A favourite place, which the writers would never pass by on such an occasion, is formed when a stream some two feet deep flows gently along the edge of a bank, and particularly if the bank be overhung, or other natural causes make it a harbour or refuge for the stream’s inhabitants.
Let the novice who finds himself, cold Spring weather prevailing, at the top of such a stream, cast in the manner described across, but slightly upstream, towards such bank. As the flies are carried down, let him vibrate the point of his rod slightly by an up and down motion in order to make his flies appear as though they were struggling to reach the surface of the water. Ten to one before the stream is fished out a sharp pluck will be felt, but the beginner, unprepared, will in many cases leave his fly in the fish or miss him altogether. The hooking of trout under such conditions is difficult in the extreme, as frequently no rise is seen; and it is only by perseverance, leading to appreciation of the moment to strike, that he can hope to succeed.
To teach in theory the correct method and timing of the strike under such conditions, is beyond the writers. The knowledge seems to come to the persevering almost as a sixth sense. At times it is positively uncanny to watch an “artist,” in his instinctive response to the rises of fish under the conditions described, for they are totally invisible to the average man.
Practice, coupled with intelligent reasoning out of the whys and wherefores of success and failure, will do more to help the novice than anything else. But, even with the rod in the hands of a past-master, this method of downstream fishing will not always succeed, though the waiting hour before the rise may often be well spent in giving these tactics a trial.
As soon, however, as the first insects floating on the surface have been noticed by the fish, the time has come to change methods and to fish upstream.
Upstream fishing is far more difficult than downstream fishing, and the initial efforts will prove disheartening. Rise after rise will be missed, and the flies will be swept to the feet of the angler almost before he has seen where they lit. It is nevertheless all important that the novice should school himself in this branch of fly fishing beyond any other, as upon it will depend his future success.
The education of the angler who has only mastered downstream fishing, or even dry-fly fishing, is incomplete; and, though the dry-fly purist may shrug his shoulders at the remark, it is not too much to say that, if he were transferred from the pellucid waters of the Chalk stream to some rapid broken river of the North, and were to endeavour to fish the wet fly, it would be some considerable time before he achieved any great success. Whereas the man who has once thoroughly mastered the art of fishing the wet fly upstream would be able quickly to adapt himself to the conditions and surroundings of the home of the dry fly.
Scoffers have often termed wet-fly fishing in general the “chuck and chance it” method, but those who thus described it can never have seen an expert at work fishing upstream. There is no such thing as “chuck and chance it” in the way he throws his flies. Every cast is made to a definite point, not necessarily to a rising fish, as in dry-fly fishing, but successively to each of the many little runs, eddies, channels, and slack waters behind boulders, which his experience teaches are likely to hold feeding fish. It is just the experience gained by such definite fishing that the dry-fly purist who throws to none but feeding fish would lack, if he overcame his prejudices and essayed to throw the wet fly on Northern waters.
The obvious natural law which causes fish to lie head upstream should convince the reader that no undue stress has been laid upon the importance of fishing upstream, and that that method should be rigidly adhered to on all occasions, except those previously mentioned.