Fishing: Learning the secrets of the Parachute Black Gnat

ANNALISA BARBIERI ON FISHING

BEFORE THE days of PlayStations and the Internet, young boys and girls would be taught fishing by their fathers or grandfathers (sorry to be sexist but that's usually the way it was). They would teach their little spin-offs how to cast, often passing on the odd bad habit as they did so; they would lovingly tell stories of where the fish lie and where they lost the biggest fish that county would have ever seen.

They would talk of flies and marabou and jungle cock and how to create magnificent attractors of fish from them and how to handle fish once hooked. This happens less and less now, because there are so many other fun things to do, apart from fishing.

So going to fishing school is the place to learn these things. Some people find it odd that you would go and learn to fish but I think it's pretty important. Sometimes I see men on the riverbank (and it is usually men) who may have been fishing for years and years, but they still can't cast. They thrash the line down so hard any decent fish for a mile around has taken refuge. Then they say "there's no fish in there today" and I think "well there were..."

A few casting lessons, at the very least, will make your fishing so much more enjoyable. There are several places where you can learn to fish, the Arundell Arms in Devon runs some excellent and comprehensive courses that are residential and last four days for beginners, although refresher courses and specialist courses (salmon, fly tying) are also available.

Orvis also run courses and it was one of these - their two-day intermediate course - that I attended. Because there were a couple of beginners, we spent the first morning casting. Even now, after a couple of years of casting, I still find expert guidance helpful. Oliver Edwards, famous for his upstream nymphing tuition, took the course. I have to credit Edwards with putting the final shine on my casting.

In the course of my professional duties I've attended a lot of casting classes/clinics. At each one the basic advice is the same but there are always personal nuances and his way just clicked with me. The first morning was spent casting and in the classroom learning all about tippets, leaders and fly line and entomology which was both fascinating and useful. Then, to really make the insect study come alive, Edwards dredged the river bed.

The course takes place on perhaps the most famous chalkstream in the world, the Test. Insect life is so rich there that the fish grow big and fat, and lazy. We saw that the river bed was alive with food, so much so that it is any wonder that these fish ever even bother to take a dry fly. Edwards picked out tiny freshwater shrimps, emerging caddis, sedge nymphs and midge pupaes. Besides them he placed the artificial pattern. I could see the beginner's eyes glowing as it all suddenly started to make sense: those flies they had in their pocket weren't just pretty, they were scientific.

Then lunch arrived, a glorious lunch provided by a proper butcher who came and set up a barbecue and laid a table with white linen and fed us chicken and fat sausages and potato salad followed by strawberries. You should never slum it whilst fishing.

The afternoon of the first day was spent fishing, interspersed with a few more trips to the classroom in the oversized fishing hut. Although I love the Test and its clear water which makes dry fly-fishing so exciting, I don't agree with the fact that it is stocked. Most of this is done so that fat, red-faced businessmen can come down and fish on a corporate day out and almost be guaranteed to catch a fish. They'll go home happy, yet with little clue as to what fishing is all about.

But most of the beginners on this course caught a fish, and that is a pleasure I would not have denied them. Their faces shone with pleasure and achievement and their arms ached with playing fish in, as the day's learning came together. I was happy to raise a few trout, on my favourite fly of the moment, a Parachute Black Gnat, but did not strike into them.

The second morning was spent going over the previous day's learning and then the rest of the day was given over to live fishing. My normal fishing buddy, Pete, was fishing of his own accord further up the Test and was having no luck (we stay in touch by sending messages via our mobile phones) so I asked Edwards what he advised: "Tell him to put a Klinkhammer on," he said.

Success. The Klinkhammer proved an almost no-fail fly and we used it again, some weeks later when we were back on the Test: it did not disappoint. Most of those on the course found that the Royal Wulff, although a rather uncouth looking thing, was irresistible to the trout.

One piece of advice if you attend a fishing school - you will be knackered so make sure your hotel has: a) a bath and not a shower; and b) is quiet. Mine failed on both these points and after the first day I would have paid pounds 100 for a nice hot bath. Orvis will be running beginner's, intermediate, dry fly and upstream nymphing courses again next year. From April through to September these take place on the Test and will cost about pounds 250 (remember that a day's fishing on the Test, with no tuition, costs not much less than this anyway). There will also be running courses in Yorkshire, Wales and Devon that start at pounds 85. Even if you don't take up fishing, you'll have a nice day out and you may just catch your supper for the first time ever.

For further information, telephone: 01264 349519.