The Making of an Adequate Fly Fisherman: Memoirs of an Angler

By Ken Gaherty

The Making of an Adequate Fly Fisherman

These are stories of my journey from being a kid who has no idea how to fish and no one to teach him to a seasoned fisherman who travelled around the USA fishing with friends and family.

I know too many great anglers who like to keep everything a secret, as if there weren’t enough trout for us all. Give back, help teach the kids, tell fellow fishermen the fly that’s working and catch and release.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781698711485

Book preview

Copyright 2022 Ken Gaherty.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval

system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,

recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-6987-1147-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6987-1149-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6987-1148-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022905032

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Trafford rev. 03/16/2022

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Dedication

DEDICATION.jpg

William Hardy Heaney

10 April 1945 – 25 November 2022

Bill was an anthropologist, scholar, author, fisherman, photographer and most importantly a friend. It is hard to tell in words what Bill meant to me. In the 36 years that we knew each other we never lived in the same state. We often lived a thousand miles away from each other, but we were never far apart. There were always the phone calls and, of course, the postcards and the get-togethers. This book will tell the stories of our hundreds of days fishing together. But there were scores of other days. When he was at Yale, the ferry would bring him over to Long Island in the summer and our swimming pool. When he was in New Jersey, both couples would travel into Manhattan for dinners, museums and shows. When he was in Montana, our home in Bayfield, Colorado would be a stopping point on his way to his editor in Santa Fe.

All of these visits were full of good food, lively talk, laughter and good times.

I pride myself in having good friends, but Bill was the best friend that anyone could have.

I miss you, Bill.

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1     Hey Dad, What’s He Doing?

Chapter 2     Off To College And Beyond

Chapter 3     Back East

Chapter 4     Long Island Fishing

Chapter 5     T. U. Trips

Chapter 6     Bonnieview

Chapter 7     The Catskills

Chapter 8     On To Pennsylvania

Chapter 9     Trout Unlimited Clinics

Chapter 10   1985

Chapter 11   Montana

Chapter 12   Back East, Again

Chapter 13   Fishing Guides

Chapter 14   Back To Fishing In The Good Old Us Of A

Chapter 15   The San Juan River

Chapter 16   Bill’s Ranch

Chapter 17   Fishing From Home In Bayfield, Colorado

Chapter 18   Camping

Chapter 19   Teaching

Acknowledgements

There are many people to thank for their help in the creation of this book. First, my wife, Sue Ann, who has helped me in any project that I have done for the past 54 years. She is my rock and she gets photo credit for the cover photograph.

Pete Dubno has been my friend and fishing companion for many years and has helped me remember stories that I forgot.

Susan Terrill-Flint managed to type my long-hand scribble from my notebook.

Linda Pampinella, friend and photographer, scanned and arranged my photos.

Mark Curran encouraged me to proceed with a vague idea that I had and pointed me to Trafford for the publishing.

Thank you to all of the people at Trafford Publishing for guiding me through my first ever attempt to produce a book.

Kevin’s fish, Phil’s fluke and my striped bass made it to the dinner table. All of the other fish pictured in this book were released unharmed.

And, most importantly, thank you to Trout Unlimited for their work in preserving trout for future generations.

Chapter 1

HEY DAD, WHAT’S HE DOING?

It was 1952. I was five years old and Mom, Dad, my brother Stephen, and I were driving up old Route 17 past Roscoe, New York. We were driving along the Beaverkill River and came to a spot which I now know is Painter’s Bend. There was a man out in the middle of the river casting a fishing rod back and forth. I asked my dad, What is he doing? He answered, He is some jerk who thinks he can catch a fish with fur and feathers. Well, as much as dad thought he was silly, the seed was planted for me to love fly fishing.

We continued to the Gaherty family cottage on Canadarago Lake near Richfield Springs, New York.

The first morning my mother stressed to me that my brand new sneakers had better not get dirty or I would be in BIG trouble.

As soon as I got outside, I stepped in a sink hole and the new sneakers were all muddy. Uncle Dick found me crying on the lakeside dock. I explained about Mom, the sneakers, and mud. He said, Don’t worry. He went up to the cottage and asked Mom if he could take me fishing. We got the OK and off we went in a boat to his favorite spot on the lake.

On the way he opened a tackle box he had with him. It was filled with brightly colored lures. I was in heaven. Pick one he said. I selected a red and white Daredevil spinner.

Here we are, Uncle Dick said. This is the best spot. He made several casts and then he shouted, We got one.

He handed me the rod saying, Here, you reel him in! Well, it was some fight but I got him to the boat and Uncle Dick netted him. It was a pickerel and it was almost as big as me.

When we got back to the cottage everyone was so excited that my mother pretended not to see all the mud on my sneakers.

We continued our trip up to Herkimer, New York, and visited my cousins there. We didn’t do any more fishing but my Dad took Stephen and me up to the West Canada Creek. This was something magical to me. I had never been to a river before. The water rolling over the rocks was so spectacular.

Dad let me wade along the shore and I was hooked. As much as I love water, flowing streams and rivers are my special favorites over lakes, ponds, and beaches.

I was destined to a life of angling thereafter.

My father’s boss, Mr. K, gave me a fishing rod for my 12th birthday. It was a combo – spinning and fly rod. It had a cork handle with a spinning rod and fly reel with level line. Being the impatient person that I am, it was a long winter waiting for spring to try it out. I was challenged as to how to tie the flies to the fly lines and ignorant as to the concept of