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Fly-Fishing For Business Wellbeing
Fly-Fishing For Business Wellbeing
Fly-Fishing For Business Wellbeing
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Fly-Fishing For Business Wellbeing

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We all know that we should keep physically fit and mentally sharp throughout life and with the achievement of these objectives one ends up having an enjoyable and stress-free leisure. It is likely that this will all take place in a very pleasant natural outdoor environment. However, it is true to say that many people expend much time, effort and money seeking these desirable outcomes, often without sufficient information to know if their project is viable or not, given their personal circumstances. Sports, such as ball games, are unsuitable due to being stressfully competitive and require running which, with age, we find increasingly difficult. Games, such as chess, exercise the mind well but do not require fast reactions and are also competitive. Then there is the ‘gym’, which is usually indoors and requires boring, comparatively slow repetitions or running on a treadmill.
So, having taught countless people to cast a fly and had their feedback, Mike Marshall would like to pass on his accumulated knowledge, mostly gathered in parallel with the demands of a senior management career in engineering. This is not a ‘detailed, how to do it’ book, but more a light-hearted anecdotal account of the various key factors leading to successful exploits in a wide range of fly-fishing situations. In this way he hopes to convey the fact that fly fishing, probably unexpectedly, contains all the elements required to create personal physical and mental wellbeing, but is free of the unwanted aspects mentioned earlier.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 31, 2021
ISBN9781398442047
Fly-Fishing For Business Wellbeing
Author

Mike Marshall

Now who is this Mike Marshall? A pirate, a pauper, never a king–although I did have a queen–a cowboy, a cop, a pilot, a race car driver, a calluses-on-my-shoulder-blades auto and aircraft mechanic, a down hill skier, a bicycle tourist, a blacksmith, a florist, and a retail store owner. My highest points were as a dad, a grandpa, and a great grandpa. My best gig was for 43 years staying married to my best friend and business partner, a fantastic-looking blonde honey, show-stopping ballroom dance partner and mother of my children. And now at 88, I'm an aspiring writer.

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    Fly-Fishing For Business Wellbeing - Mike Marshall

    5LQ

    Achieving Wellbeing

    We all know that we should keep physically fit and mentally sharp throughout life, with the achievement of these objectives ideally being enjoyable and stress-free. It is also highly likely that this will all take place in a very pleasant natural outdoor environment. However, it is true to say that many people expend much time, effort and money seeking these desirable outcomes, often without sufficient information to know if their project is viable, given their personal circumstances. Sports, such as ball games, are unsuitable due to being stressfully competitive and require running which, with age, we find increasingly difficult. Games, such as chess, exercise the mind well but do not require fast reactions and are also competitive. Then there is the ‘gym’, which is usually indoors and requires boring, comparatively slow repetitions or running on a treadmill.

    So, having taught countless people to cast a fly and had their feedback, together with fishing many lovely UK and Irish waters himself, Mike Marshall would like to pass on his accumulated knowledge, mostly gathered in parallel with the demands of a senior management career in engineering. This is not a detailed, ‘how to do it’ book, but more a light-hearted anecdotal account of the various key factors leading to successful exploits in a wide range of fly-fishing situations. In this way, he hopes to convey the fact that fly-fishing, probably unexpectedly, contains all the elements required to create personal, physical and mental wellbeing, but is free of the unwanted aspects mentioned earlier.

    Introduction

    When my mother, Ruby, and father, John, set up home in their new council ‘semi’ in Chelmsford, on the safe edge of miles of the River Chelmer’s flood plain, they would have had no idea that they were providing a superb playground for a child with fishing potential. Later, when this became an unsurprising reality, I took for granted the value of the exercise achieved while walking quite long distances to chosen fishing spots and the quiet, but exciting prospect of a catch when I arrived. Now, I fully understand it was much more important than that!

    In this stressfully frantic, over-indulgent world, with rampant technology and success measured by celebrity rather than ability, how can we possibly achieve a sensible work-life balance for physical and mental fitness? Well, anything with fishing in its name conveys the impression of a sedentary, slow-moving sport, so my suggestion to embrace fly-fishing will come as a surprise to many people and, therefore, needs explanation. In fact, fly-fishing is all-action in various ways from getting to your chosen fishing place or places by walking or managing a boat while spurred-on by anticipation, to casting which needs to be quick and precise and then, attractively moving a fly by hand. Added to this, you can also separately practise casting as energetically as you wish. This all has to be thought about which tends to make us anticipate possible sport rather than worrying about things like business, although I enjoyed it given capable owners. Regarding mental stimulation, there is as much information as you can process, from what species to fish for considering the weather and time available, what fishery and tackle, which are not as expensive as you might imagine, to what fly to use and its depth of fishing. And there is much more when you read on, because there is almost certain to be some fly-fishing to suit your personal circumstances and, when doing it, you will not be able to think about less pleasant things, examples of which I also describe! However, perhaps the most important point of all is that you do not have to give up your exercise and problem-solving with age, because I have known several fly-fishers in their 80s who have had to stop wading in fast rivers, but then fished for salmon from a boat instead.

    Regarding technology, I treat it purely as a tool and it can be incredibly helpful, with the internet on top of the list. It provides the accommodation information and detailed weather predictions for your intended fishing area, together with the frequent river gauge heights which are often so important to achieve success. Tide tables are also very useful because fly-fishing is increasingly taking place in the sea. But prepare before you go as you cannot expect full mobile reception, particularly in river valleys.

    I suppose it is no accident that the ambience of fly-fishing is very good because participants do not fish with bait or metal lures and, instead, use small caricatures of ‘naturals’ held together with fine thread. So, by definition, they must appreciate the finer points in life and will gravitate to the most enjoyable fishing, nearly always returning their fish unharmed.

    Finally, it must be said that nothing will give you more comfort in the great outdoors than breathable waterproof clothing, so please do not neglect this. Your jacket should have a hood with a wired peak and be worn over a baseball cap with a large peak to keep water off the safety glasses you will wear, together with a large towelling scarf around the neck to keep out trickles. Then full-length waterproof trousers will be needed over wellingtons, or a pair cut off at the knees if thigh waders are chosen.

    So, it only remains for me to wish you tight lines and long casts, if you take-up any of the following ideas.

    Foreword

    When I took up fly-fishing many years ago, it soon became obvious that if I was to achieve any measure of success, professional casting tuition was required. And that is how I came to meet Mike Marshall, a respected fly-casting instructor, successful tournament distance caster and the author of this book. Initially my mentor, he soon became a good friend.

    As the title implies, the main thrust of the book is that fly-fishing provides a very relaxing and enjoyable means of promoting both physical and mental wellbeing. Mike explores this idea by giving a detailed account of his senior-management career in engineering alongside his many fly-fishing experiences. It soon becomes clear that the life of a company director is not for the faint-hearted. Indeed, Mike had to contend with many diverse problems, and issues such as takeovers, industrial disputes and even suspected sabotage of highly productive equipment, all added to his pressures.

    But fortunately, regular fly-fishing adventures to various locations throughout the UK, in pursuit of trout, salmon and other game species, came to the rescue. With mounting occupational challenges, these fishing breaks became increasingly important and the source of many anecdotes. Some are very informative, others delightfully entertaining, but all serve to illustrate how fly-fishing benefitted Mike enormously. As he commented after a memorable visit to the beautiful River Esk in Cumbria, I left this haven of tranquillity feeling better able to face the problems of an inconsiderate business world.

    The detailed descriptions of the tackle, tactics and fly patterns Mike employed during his fishing trips will interest keen anglers, and struggling casters will welcome his excellent casting advice. However, there were other aspects to Mike’s fishing exploits. A fly-fishing business with his own range of quality fly rods provided more scope for coaching, and seeing clients realise their full potential clearly gave him much satisfaction. His comprehensive instructional DVD on distance casting and numerous articles in fly-fishing magazines offered further opportunities to impart his extensive knowledge and experience.

    Mike recounts his long-standing involvement with the British Fly Casting Club (BFCC), of which he is president, explaining how it evolved, its principles and the role he played. At a personal level I can add that he was instrumental in my own modest BFCC achievements, and his generous help in identifying the correct equipment for me to perform at my best was invaluable. Typically, he was just as delighted as I was at the outcome! In keeping with the book’s concept, the whole process was hugely enjoyable and I’m sure it improved my wellbeing considerably.

    Although this book undoubtedly offers much good advice and many unique pearls of wisdom for fly fishers, it is not intended as a detailed instruction manual. Rather, it is a warm, personal and anecdotal account of the interaction between the author’s business career and his various fly-fishing pursuits. Undeniably perceptive and thought-provoking, it is an inspiration to anyone considering involvement in this absorbing pastime. I thoroughly endorse the message that fly-fishing enhances wellbeing and can recommend the book wholeheartedly.

    Dr Vernon Wood

    Chapter 1

    Wartime & Minnows

    It was 1941 and I had just started Trinity school with the war raging. Although days were generally quiet, nights could be very different with Luftwaffe bombers often active. Against this backdrop, my younger brother David who was a poorly indoor boy, mother and I would nightly crawl across the steel threshold of our Morrison table shelter, let down the wire mesh door with a clank, then tuck into bed within. Although not ideal for restful sleep, we at least knew there was a good chance of survival if the house crashed down. The main cause of our anxiety was that our road acted as a long finger pointing from east to west, starting at the river Chelmer’s flood plain and a thin strip of farm land, passing the Bofors anti-aircraft gun installation, skirting Trinity school and Chelmsford prison, crossing the river and railway line, then finishing at the bombers’ factory targets. These were Hoffman Bearings and Marconi Electronics, both absolutely vital to the war effort, so there was no chance the problem would go away.

    A raid would start with the siren sounding, then after a delay, the Bofors gun would begin firing, immediately followed by the drone of aircraft, which would then slowly fade to the accompaniment of bombs exploding in the distance; then, finally, the all-clear siren would sound. This went on sporadically for about two years often leaving shrapnel in the road but, luckily for us, the nearest bomb to home, blew the prison wall down when, it was rumoured, some happy inmates stumbled free over the rubble. Regarding the bombers’ targets, local people who worked there confirmed that they were hit several times, but not badly enough to greatly impede production.

    Meanwhile, we only knew about father through his censored letters and that he ‘was a navigator, flying for the RAF in a very warm place’.

    Mornings saw life return to normal, when I walked to school on weekdays and called for my friend Raymond on the way. He was nicknamed Chubby for obvious reasons and was the only well-covered child in the school, but he was not greedy, or bothered and sensibly carried-on without comment. However, weekends were different when we were free to go to the river, with only an occasional instruction – ‘not to talk to strangers’. We went with two small nets, one red and the other blue, leftover from a family holiday with Chubby’s older sister and a large jam jar with holes punched in its lid with a nail by his helpful father. However, as with many things in life that I would discover, things were not all they seemed! And, while my net was based on a genuine interest in fishing, Chubby’s was a subterfuge. Without permission he had swapped an expensive toy with an older boy for a very good catapult and, in spite of his somewhat angelic appearance, wanted to become a hunter of small animals and birds. So, off we went full of hope, carrying our nets like soldiers and the catapult well-concealed.

    Although we knew the nearest river system, fields and paths well, we were at first disappointed to find them unsuitable for our purposes. My fishing with a net was impossible because the river was too deep and not clear enough to see any fish, whereas for Chubby’s hunting, there were too many walkers and no quiet hedgerows. But, with persistence over several visits we found the ideal area for us both on the far side of the flood plain and barely noticed the much longer walk. Here, there was a lovely little side stream, spring fed and clear with a healthy population of minnows, and it was flanked by a long hedgerow with some trees which provided homes for lots of wildlife. So we always headed straight to this very peaceful area and followed what became an established routine, where I would keep the two nets and fish with one, thus allowing Chubby to hunt.

    It took me several visits to learn how to catch minnows having chased them unsuccessfully with the blue net, but the stream was their home and they knew every safe place to hide. Then, while having a break, I left the net flat on the bottom and noticed that when I had left it still for long enough, the minnows would reappear and swim over it. If I then selected one that was bold enough to swim over the net’s mouth and lifted quickly, it would be caught and I was very excited. So, with patience and a few moves, a number could be caught, but they had to be returned fairly quickly from the jam jar because they soon became sickly. Unfortunately, Chubby’s hunting was not so successful because he always returned with stories of nearly hitting rabbits, squirrels, pheasants and other birds all caused by having to take shots at long range. His problem was that he was making too much noise, always evident on his return because I could hear him a long way away but, luckily for his targets, no amount of mentioning it on the way home made any difference. This puzzled me because a small change in his behaviour would have allowed him to achieve his greatest ambition.

    Inevitably, Chubby’s interest in fishing (hunting) became greatly reduced by a lack of success, but I wanted to continue and was kindly given the blue net and jam jar as a present. This allowed me to go on my own and, keener than ever, was fascinated by the tiny minnows changing colour in late spring, which I now know was their spawning livery. Olive backs became greener and bellies went red which is also an inbred feature, but in different colours, shared by the mighty salmon. So, although I had no concept of this book at the time, the long walk allowed me to think about fishing and my arrival provided the excitement of putting it into practice. As a result, the continued nightly incarceration in a steel cage, together with the more occasional sounds of the Bofors gun and bombs exploding, were temporarily forgotten.

    With my interest in netting reducing and word of my liking for fishing spreading, a huge piece of luck came my way. Mother returned one day during a school holiday, with an old fishing outfit given to her by a generous neighbour, which was his late father’s and had been recovered from the garden shed. This was just what was needed and I thought I knew how to assemble and use it, having watched many anglers from a distance, so I tried it at home. The 11 ft rod was in three pieces, two mottled cane and a greenheart top pushed together with brass ferrules, all contained in a tattered maker’s fitted bag. It also had good wire bridge rings which had to be lined-up by hand and, finally, a wooden handle with tapered, sliding brass reel retaining sleeves. There was a small wooden reel having a brass ‘foot’ to tightly fit the handle sleeves, an optional clicking ratchet to prevent overruns and it was well-filled with fine braided line. Additionally, there was a keep net, a landing net and an old biscuit tin containing small items such as floats, weights and size 12 hooks attached to looped gut links, together with a large carrying bag. However, having assembled most of it, there was the problem of joining the braided line to a gut loop with a safe knot, which I had always been too far away to see tied. So being on holiday and having no one to advise me, I walked to the river and asked a kind looking angler, who did not mind my careful approach. He said, Down through the gut loop, back up beside itself, three times round, then down through the hole you’ve made, gently tighten and don’t forget to soak the brittle gut overnight before use. This was just what I needed to know and then hurried home to practise tying it.

    Next day I was ready, kneaded a small ball of bread dough and water into a stiff paste bait, put it in a spare small tin and was off to the river, leaving behind the unwanted keep net and landing net. On arrival, I was at first confused by too much water to choose from, then thought where would minnows be? Well, they would have wanted somewhere safe nearby, so I reasoned that a disused wooden rowing boat mooring which was built out over the water that flowed slowly by, would be suitable for any fish present. At the upstream end I assembled my rod and reel, selected a little red tipped quill float, added split shot to make it float upright with a thumb’s width above the water, then set the hook depth just above the bottom.

    With hands shaking slightly, I squeezed a tiny pellet of bread paste on the hook, cast it out and upstream, let the bait sink, then allowed it to drift as far downstream as possible. Sometimes adding new bait, I tried shorter and longer casts, but the float remained stubbornly above the surface. Having seen other anglers do it, I then moved downstream a few yards to try new water and was almost immediately rewarded by the float bobbing slightly, but nothing more. After another move, the float drifted a short distance and slowly, almost magically, went under, so I raised the rod tip quickly to find myself attached to my first rod-caught fish. It was a gudgeon that struggled hard, gave up and was lifted out to my hand, carefully unhooked, then returned. My excitement took some time to subside because it had looked enormous to me, compared to the minnows I was used to. But, when more composed, I caught two more of about the same size before it was time to go home because I was hungry. What a wonderful first day, but I realised that, in future, I should take the landing net because lifting heavier fish might break my precious rod.

    Becoming more adventurous and

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