fly fishing in itself isn’t inherently funny but a few chuckles along the way sure make our activity that much more special.
defining what funny or chuckelish is, is an extremely suggestive endeavour but the good thing about this, and where it correlates with fly fishing is; just like the fish, we see it or we don’t.
here’s a selection of previously posted articles that will hopefully raise a few lip corners. enjoy !
“I tried to make a photo and the camera was set at 3 sec. So in that time interval I was able only to fall down and not to make that classic photo with a big smile and my trout in my arms… “
here’s hoping we get to see many more images like this my friend !
“The distance between your head and your hand can be a long way”
～ Mel Krieger
what a nice way to say “what i think i’m doing isn’t really what’s happening”, something many if not most of us are guilty of when it comes to fly casting (and a lot more… )
see, and just as an example, i had made no plans whatsoever to make an enormous, five minutes-to-take-apart series of knots in my fly line in front of all those people while doing a casting demo. dumb brain…
Fly Casting a Rubber Chicken on the Snow in Copenhagen.
who doesn’t ?
in a fit of “why not ?” (and maybe mostly “damned right ! i’ll showem’ it can be done !”), Lasse Karlsson is once again the man of the hour with these not-only-amusing but eye-opening rubber chicken fly casting sequences.
outside of the semi-absudity of casting a 60 gram ‘fly’, what we can take away from this experiment is there aren’t as many limits in fly casting as we might usually think and that a little practice when adapting to something new is mostly a matter of a little practice and dedication. some little somethings to think about if you’re planning to cast big bushy pike flies or saltwater patterns. enjoy !
“He said that Brown Trout (sic) have adapted, through recent evolutionary shift, the ability to change colour, very much like a chameleon does. The ‘red spots’ are only visible under a certain spectrum of light and only under water which is why we can’t see them in our photos. It is thought that this is an anti-predator adaptation and, that in time, Brown Trout will develop the advances in this ‘technology’ similar to the alien in the “Predator” movie. Effectively this will mean that at some time in the future when you hook a Brown Trout and it jumps from the water all you will see is pixellated shit that is indistinct. It will also mean posting photographs of ‘trophy’ fish will be impossible as basically all you will see is a rod, net and some bankside vegetation. It’s true. “
overheard yesterday and just too good not to share, this and countless good-natured comments are to be found on Mike Barrio’s Fishing The Fly Forum. home-based on the banks of the river Don in Aberdeenshire, Scotland but with members from all over the globe, be sure to check it out and join up.
as for the Predator-like digi-camo fish, i get the feeling that our lives as fly fishers is about to pass on to a whole different level. level of what, i have no idea but it sounds like a challenge, to say the least…
HIS DAMSON JUNO
here good folks, a rare gem sure to distract you from this tedious weekend. (take a deep breath and) enjoy !
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” Once passed over, those who survive the sucking mosses of the wild windswept wastes of the west rarely return by the same perilous pathways.
But here there are fish of fable.
For those with the unshakeable courage to brave the meery passages across the bleak Willesden Witch marshes and whose destiny is to catch….there are prizes far beyond the dreams of common casters.
Standing foresquare againt the brutal gusts that shook her diminutive partner as he fought his piscine foe, a puce pink PVC body suit clinging wet and tight as plum peel to her every curve, Marjorie Whelpton Pills was a proud colossus amongst the marginal tussocks.
Line tore from the reel and tension ripped a wild roostertail of spray across the surface of the water, blown back by the whipping winds into the smarting eyes of the desperate diminutive angler. Forced by the uncontrollable power of the mighty fish to relinquish his secure position on a high sedge tuft, he found himself trapped and slowly sinking in the marginal mud…. which, thick, cloying, mucoid, closed ominously about his well oiled knees and brewed with rising vapour.
The imminence of an irretrievable submergence forced the bog beleaguered bantam to deploy the emergency self pump floatation spokes on his ZA “No Snag” Aquasheer Wading Kilt thus preventing any further descent into the mire.
Briefly reassured of his safety, Uncle Wilf Whelpton Pills sucked contentedly on his pikerel pipe and resumed the battle.
Behind, his damson Juno knew, engrossed as he was in his vital personal duel, her short but valiant and glisto-lusted knight had failed to recognize the hideous potentialities of the gaseous crisis that was developing below his midriff and she re-doubled her grip on his rawhide “EZY Train” kilt guidance reins for fear that with one ember brightening pull on that smoking bone he may inadvertently cause himself to be accelerated at velocities sufficient to reach a low earth orbit.
Sealed at the edges where it had penetrated the surface of the morass, the, (perfectly manufactured and consequently totally impermeable to fluids and gases) “No Snag” began to billow like the skirts of an early ZA “Cockerell Experimental” as the volatile fumes, unable to escape, accumulated beneath and began to place the neck sealant gland grommets under an intolerable pressure.
Shortly before the explosion, Wilf Whelpton Pills had a momentary sensation that he was suspended over a chill and abyssal void. Although he was satisfied that his feet were properly positioned below his head, he felt a small regret that he had chosen to follow tradition with respect to kiltish undergarments and therefore had no protective gusset.
Shortly after the explosion Wilf was pulled briefly taut between fish and his devoted damsel. He felt the tethers tighten and the connection to the fish part. Thus released he described a sudden and very rapid arc of a kilt rein radius landing with some considerable force amongst the tattered remains of the self pump spokes and gabardine which spread about him like a grey smoking marsh daisy.
In the aftermath, it was clear that Wilf, aside from having to wear a ZA “Will o’ the Wisp” Medicated Lunghi Wrap for the forseable future, had lost a record Rudd.
And, as his ample ally applied soothing Knoxit globules to his blistered buttocks in the blimp on the way back to Pills Manor he knew his big error was to refuse the ZA “Marsh Safe” Wide Fit No Sink Punt Frunts in favour of the Self Pump Aquasheer Wading Kilt Floatation Spokes.
It was a small consolation that he would not have to wax “below” for quite some time to come. “
The revolutionary ZA Urban Angler Aquasheer Wading Kilt, 1886 “Split Crotch” model, with fully inflated self pump safety spokes, here demonstrated as a back alley anti garrote device.
ZAPPP LTD WADING SAFETY SYSTEMS Often copied never bettered.
Mark Surtees (Stoats)
i’d be hard pressed to say what i love most about Mark; his insatiable hunger for fly fishing, manly belly or his mad, creative, genius mind.
for a slightly less convoluted… apercue of Mark’s greyer matter click the links below.
– Fly Casting Physics: Casting Mechanics, What Do We Need To Know ?
– Fly Casting- One for the Wrist Breakers
– The Sexyloops Fly Casting Model