The Secret Angler

The Wild Trout Trust is a good thing, surely. What began as the Wild Trout Society more than two decades ago — the idea of two or three fly fishing friends — was later rebranded as a charity for the conservation and support of wild trout and their habitats. The new emphasis is believed to strengthen the Trust’s hand as a conservation body, diverting attention from its fishing origins. And the fish need all the help going. Industrial and agricultural pollution, eutrophication, fly fishermen driving gas-guzzling four-by-fours, water abstraction, the imminent threats of global warming are all threatening indigenous trout, especially in the south of the country. And who really cares apart from the anglers? Land owners are mostly indifferent to pollution, so long as it doesn’t spoil their view. Governments have many conflicting priorities with the economy at the top, influenced of course by the land owners and others with enough wealth and lobbying power.

So an organisation like the WTT is important, or it should be. What does the WTT actually do? That seems to have changed in the good many years that I’ve been a member. Its main focus has always been the advisory visits to clubs with trout fisheries. When Fred Scourse became director, with Edward Twiddy as projects man, there seemed to be more impetus to the organisation. A few science projects were sponsored at first but these petered out during the period Peter Hayes, a retired businessman, coordinated them. The WTT has an advisory panel of scientists who, it appears, are rarely used. One I spoke to has been contacted only once, and that a long time ago. Another resigned from the Trust when it became clear there was no interest in his project ideas.

Perhaps research is beyond the interests of a charity like the WTT. Funding these is best left to the proper institutions while the trust concentrates on the advisory visits and habitat improvements, which are undoubtedly beneficial (I’ve observed a couple). The WTT’s main problem is one of insularity. Clubby is the description used by some. I’ve been to a handful of the dos they hold each year and noticed a definite cliquishness. Despite the odd friendly face, getting to talk to one of the insiders can be surprisingly difficult. The last two directors have been relatively unapproachable, at least compared to Fred Scourse from the early days. I once tried to speak with the incumbent but he was far more interested in his conversation with someone else and I withdrew. This parochial quality seems to extend to the river trusts. Letters go unanswered, offers of help and support are ignored or rebuffed; unless you are part of the crowd, they don’t want to know. Some other fisheries people exhibit the same indifference. One biologist I encountered, in the WTT tent at a game fair, was open about his dismissive attitude to those he considered pretenders. Perhaps I have just been unfortunate, but it has happened often enough to me and others to suggest that the WTT has a problem.

The WTT is in a unique position to take a political stance, which it is entitled to do in law. Environmental damage is the big menace to trout rivers and their stocks. Fencing, woody debris, faggoting the margins are all well and good but don’t address the serious problems that only government action can tackle. I read the newsletters and the annual magazine and see no evidence of any activity of this kind. Apart from the visits to waters, the rest of the Trust’s time goes to organising gatherings of various kinds, sometimes with a bit of fishing, usually of the expensive sort. Even the annual auction lots are mostly for deep pockets. Trout fishing is rarely cheap, much of it is very pricey and beyond the reach of many. So trips to the Peacock Hotel’s water in Derbyshire or Winchester College, for example, have a keen air of exclusivity. Clubby in fact.

Yet isn’t that the problem with us all? We all want to belong to that exclusive club with access to the finest fishing, which some travel far and wide to find. New Zealand, Tierra del Fuego, the Falkland Islands are all a long long way away. We may come into this world trailing clouds of glory, but we spend our time on this Earth trailing clouds of carbon. The WTT does its little bit to encourage this.

A new fishing magazine, a serious one devoted to serious writing, is a rare event and worth celebrating. There was keen interest when Fallon’s Angler was first announced, rather as with Waterlog back in 1996, which for a brief while you could actually find in some newsagents. Waterlog closed last year with its 100^th issue, probably because there is only room for one magazine of this kind in the ill-read angling world. Many said that Waterlog had gone off since it changed format. In my view there was not a lot of difference, although it may have got worse with time; true or not, it always suffered from too much plodding prose written by self-indulgent and unskilful authors. No, I think the real reason people stopped buying had more to do with the disappearance of Chris Yates from its pages. Too many anglers are too limited in their reading matter: if it’s not Yates or BB, forget it.

How is Fallon’s Angler faring after three years in print? After a good start it seems to have subsided. One must conclude that good writers are in short supply in the fishing world. Unless, that is, the editorial team prefer that sort of writing. I haven’t seen every issue but I’ve read enough to be disappointed with much of the content. Issue 13 has some good stuff, however. In page order I enjoyed the punting article, Petley’s biography of Douglas Pavel, the piece on sea trout in Scotland and the one about Cumbria; I also liked the article on match fishing (a lovely snowy photograph too). So that’s five altogether, not bad going really. Of the others, some are at least readable, others plain hard work. I normally like the editor’s contributions but found the piece on smoothhound fishing just a little over-romanticised (though probably all Fallon’s readers are romantics).

Of the other regulars Dexter Petley is about the best. He deserves the distinction of writer, even though his subject matter is limited — rural decay in France with big carp is his regular fare. Chris Yates has always demonstrated good prose rhythm but he also has a limited range, mainly the subject of crucian carp these days, dressed with cane and fruitcake. But he sells magazines, I presume. Fishing with the General has almost exhausted its humorous vein; John Andrews and Kevin Parr I find tough going. Kevin Parr’s diary pieces appear at intervals on the Fallon’s website. They’re free to read of course, but even so the last one, Frost, appears to have been knocked together at the last minute. The writing contains some howlers — “barely of altered” is an elementary error (have, not of), and “a Scirroco”, fresh from the Sahara or otherwise, is a motor car. He meant sirocco. Not the best advertisement for the magazine.

There is too much of this clumsy writing in all magazines. The clichés, the clunky prose, the lack of narrative movement discourages a regular subscription to any magazine. Yet I feel Fallon’s Angler could be much better, whereas I don’t think that’s true with the standard monthlies. There must be some other writers out there worthy of the title, including a few of those who do appear occasionally in the magazine; more of their work would give us a better read. With these reservations I still like Fallon’s Angler and want it to succeed. But I’d like to see it improve the consistency of its content.