Tag: fishing

Spanish weather

Heatwaves are not good for fishing. Mid-30s or higher are not much good for anything but resting in the shade and listlessly checking the weather forecast for any change. Some seem to like it. On the telly they seek the opinions of the Great British Public: luvverly weather, they say, licking their Mr Whippys. Perhaps the news journalists should ask the residents of care homes and see how they enjoy the daily temperature records. Climatologists tell us this is down to a heating climate caused by greenhouse gas emissions. They’ve been telling us that for a few decades and still too many pretend they didn’t hear. The really stupid say it’s not happening but then they will tell you that black is white and the sky is green. Profoundly stupid people think they’re the clever ones, you see.

I’m not doing much fishing at the moment. Although it is cooler now — but another less intense heatwave is on the way —river water has warmed to a point where the trout don’t want to rise. In any case, many southern chalk streams are now closed to fishing to protect the fish (I hear that some northern rivers have high water temperatures too). Those waters open are not worth going to; the only fish I’ve seen rising are the small grayling, a devil to tempt on a dry fly. Coarse fishing suffers too in the heat. The only fishing worth doing is at night from the beach, when you might get a Dover sole, if you’re lucky.

Forget fishing for the time being. The World Cup provides some distraction. Not so much from the home team, which always seems to struggle to progress; the beautiful game is revealed by the handful of special teams like France and Spain. The weather in Spain seems to produce remarkable players, certainly since 2008. Following an interlude post-2012, the Spanish side has recovered its wizardry and is once again weaving a tapestry of passes through the bamboozled defences of lesser teams. Back in the golden period 2008-12, when Spain won three major tournaments in succession, some lumpen England fans were calling Spanish football ‘boring’. It seems they preferred a team that couldn’t help losing the ball or hoofing it up the pitch to the feet of the opposition.

Of course England are better now but still a league below Spain and France. So even should the weather here turn Spanish again, enjoy the football of that country and look forward to cooler days when we can go fishing once more. It will be a good summer if Spain becomes world champion for the second time because it has the most elegant football team. Naturally the players will need a little bit of fortune to get them there. Everyone needs that, especially fishermen.

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The wrong flies

I don’t write too much about politics because the subject sits uneasily with fishing, even though the well-being of our fishing depends on governments a great deal. Decisions about the environment and the money to clean and sustain it come from the top. You can’t rely on citizen science or citizen action to keep our fishing in good order. You can’t even rely on fishermen, never mind politicians.

Too many wrong flies in the political ointment these days. The Americans are stuck with the Orange Muddler, in fact the whole world is stuck with this gaudy and crass fly. Fish and other wildlife don’t take well to climate change, chemicals in the rivers but when we are ruled by halfwits that’s what we get more of. In some ways they are restrained by economics and their own stupidity — large investments in green energy cannot be wished away; big business doesn’t work like that.

Thanks to the Blue Upshites that fluttered at the end of our lines more than forty years ago, our water utilities were turned into cash cows for dodgy banks and shit shows for our waterways. No immediate end in sight for that particular environmental disaster. But an even worse fly is swarming over the country, bred on a rotten carcass somewhere, the Teal Blue and Shitforbrains, to whom the environment is for the turds. Some airheads on the TV say the current administration hasn’t worked, so let’s try them. Which is like saying, paracetamol hasn’t cured my headache, let’s try chopping it off.

People say they don’t like career politicians, they like ‘ordinary blokes’, even or especially if they are racists and misogynists. Does an ordinary bloke know how to run a country? If I’m sick I prefer to consult a career doctor than a plumber. Those kinds of ordinary blokes are not going to look after my fishing (or much else). Yet plenty of fishermen think they will, or at least hate the same others they hate.

The biggest, ugliest, nastiest fly of them all, the Muskrat, a relatively new pattern, though modelled on many older, is appearing in every flybox where it’s not wanted. It wants to supplant all the genteel tyings of the past and stick its point of many barbs into as many fingers as possible.

Beware the TBS and imitators and be careful who you vote for. These flies will burrow under your skin and lay eggs that hatch into maggots.

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