Fly Fishers' Republic

Tales

Loosing It

Loosing It

The way you fish reveals the way you handle the other sex. Or so claimed a friend of mine who’s never resorted to marriage, probably because he’s been practising Catch and Release for too long. Later I recalled that same… Continue reading

Mojo’s Big Catch

Mojo’s Big Catch

I’ve only fished a handful of times in my life, most of those experiences taking place in my pre-adolescent years. In these early fishing trips, I rarely used live bait — instead, I relied on expensive synthetic scents, and the use of loud, obnoxiously-colored lures to grab attention… Continue reading


Fall on the Nan

Fall on the Nan

My face was maybe three inches from the water. Trying to raise my head didn’t work. Neither did turning it at all. What the hell was I doing here? The water was moving, so it had to be a stream… Continue reading

Giving Nanny Carr a Makeover

Giving Nanny Carr a Makeover

This is not the story of how we turned granny into a catwalk star, it’s a tale of a bit of a face lift for a beautiful upland river. But, before we apply the make-up, here’s a little history. For… Continue reading

The View from Trout Lake

The View from Trout Lake

It was a beautiful summer and we’d made it through to day nine of a two week camping vacation in Glacier National Park. That was no mean feat; two years careful planning and plenty cajoling went to persuade my husband… Continue reading

What is a Fly Fishing Rabbi?

What is a Fly Fishing Rabbi?

On Friday nights, the Jewish Sabbath, you can find me leading prayer services, giving sermons and blessing the congregation. I am a rabbi at a Jewish Temple of 750 families in New York. But on a Sunday afternoon in the… Continue reading

Good Friends

Good Friends

That prolific angling writer and carp angler, Richard Walker, once announced that the friends he fished with were at least as important as the fish he caught. While I wouldn’t quite go that far, I would claim that they are… Continue reading

Picnic Persuasion

Picnic Persuasion

Cold, curried-beef sandwiches are bad news in a packed lunch. It happened to me one sharp spring day while fishing Loch Awe and ever since I have investigated each slice before the first bite. I suppose it depends upon your… Continue reading

Man’s Best Friend

Man’s Best Friend

I can’t remember not having a dog, always one and sometimes two, and always Golden Retrievers. They were decent, friendly, biddable creatures and wonderful companions. Training them was easy because they were endlessly anxious to please and to learn. They… Continue reading

Singing In The Rain

Singing In The Rain

Music is an angler’s best friend. Not many people know that, but, honestly, it is true. I discovered this fact as a youth when fishing the Tweed downstream from Manor Bridge. The river here tumbles into a deep pool, pounding… Continue reading

Ferox – The Aquatic Wolf From The Ice Age

Ferox

One fine summer day a few years ago I was fishing Loch Laidon for brown trout. This dramatic loch lies at the heart of Scotland where it silver-ribbons Rannoch Moor for five-and-half narrow miles. Off Eilean Iubhair, ‘the island of… Continue reading

Leaping to Freedom

Leaping to Freedom

Scotsmen easily jump vast distances. Our ankles are like coiled springs, the result of centuries of practice avoiding our enemies, and we wear the kilt because it gives our shanks freedom of movement in dangerous situations. Unlike loin-strangling breeches, the… Continue reading

Beavering Away

Beavering Away

Black, grizzly or otherwise, bears scare the hell out of me. I am reliably informed that the key point to remember, should you ever be confronted by a bear whilst fishing, is not to run. Apparently this only encourages the… Continue reading

Give them the turning flee

Give them the turning flee

When all else fails, give them the “turning flee”. This technique is best practised whilst seated comfortably in the stern of a loch boat – the blunt end to those not accustomed to the nuances of nautical phraseology. Whilst the… Continue reading

One Small Step

One Small Step

My wife, Ann, ‘The Manager’, and I invariably have a day at the end of September fishing for sea-trout on Loch Hope in North Sutherland. Last year, however, it looked as though the wind was going to defeat us. Nevertheless… Continue reading