Two books to read

“Some of the best fishing is done not in water but in print.”

—Alfred W. Miller, aka “Sparse Grey Hackle”

The past weeks I have been slowly recovering from a hernia operation. This has given me considerable time to rediscover the meaning of Mr. Miller’s words. Herein are two books that will both delight and inform you.

“The Founding Fish,” by John McPhee, will tell you more about American Shad, Alosa sapidissima than it would seem possible for one writer to research. In his writing Mr. McPhee intertwines facts and tales in a most interesting manner. In the first chapter, he describes an epic struggle to land a four-and-three-quarter-pound female shad. The fish had hit just at dusk down near Lambertville on the lower Delaware. It was not netted until two-and-one-half hours later. This fact caused the feelings of Mrs. McPhee, waiting at home, to seesaw up and down. At first she was highly annoyed when her husband, who was to have cooked dinner that evening, had not arrived home by 9:00 p.m. Then she began to fear the worst. Perhaps the Delaware had claimed him for its own, as the river does to anglers occasionally. She fearfully called the wife of a friend whom McPhee was to have had as his fishing companion. That lady contacted the local police, who shortly informed her that, “they were still fishing.” The feelings of Mrs. McPhee now turned to “spitting mad,” at a spouse who was unable to leave the river at a reasonable time. The fisherman did not return home until well past 11:00 p.m. that evening—a bit too late to put on his chef’s hat.

This tale of connubial bliss caused me to smile. On those rare fishing trips when Barb does not come with me, she invariably asks when I will return. This despite the fact that we are only eight months short of being married 60 years. That question puts me in an awkward position. I am forced to carefully calculate an answer that will give me enough leeway so that I will not be met with anger upon my eventual arrival home. At least I have never pulled a “McPhee” on that little girl of mine, nor as the song goes, “has my fate been still unlearned.”

An employee of the National Park Service once mentioned that Mr. McPhee has a place somewhere down in Damascus. That goes a long way toward explaining how he writes such fine books as this one and also “The Survival of the Bark Canoe.”

The second book, “Casting a Spell,” by George Black, takes you deep into the history and mystery of the manufacture of the American bamboo fly rod. If you are the owner of a bamboo rod, you will be mesmerized by the author’s words. If not, you will have difficulty restraining yourself from dashing out to purchase one of the many mentioned in this marvelously researched story. Hiram Hawes, one of the craftsmen mentioned in the book, describes a bamboo fly rod as being “a useful thing, beautifully made.”

I am fortunate to have a direct connection to one of the rod makers the author writes about. Back in the early 1980s, I once sat in our living room watching Per Brandin “mike” the tapers of two of my bamboo rods:the Jim Payne #101 and the Paul Young Perfectionist, A. J. McClane’s favorite trout rod. At the time, I thought Per’s interest in building bamboo fly rods would merely be a hobby, such as my tying trout flies. I can recall one frigid, cold Sunday afternoon in February, when to his dismay young Per, a staunch member of a group named the Amawalk Rock Rollers, went for an involuntary swim in the Amawalk. Fortunately for lovers of bamboo rods, he survived the experience. Who would have ever dreamed that this young Swedish lad would one day be recognized as one of the finest bamboo fly rod makers in America? Barb and I consider ourselves fortunate to be able to call him a friend.

Mr. Black introduces you to bamboo rod makers from those at the very beginning to craftsmen of today. Some of the facts you will pick up while reading this book are deliciously obscure. Would you believe that Edie Sedgwick, the young actress from the Andy Warhol studio, was a descendant of H. R. Sedgwick, who was a champion trap shooter and maker of fine expensive bamboo fly rods? Amazingly, some of the best-known makers did not even fish! Sam Carlson said to Mr. Black that, “To me, fishing in a stream is impossible. I just don’t see how anyone can do it.” Pinky Gillum would flat out tell a client who purchased one of his rods, “You just bought two weeks of my life.” I often thought that Glenn Brackett, who built bamboo rods for Winston, was unreasonable, pricing his rods at $3,000 a rod and up. Read this book and find out why his rods were priced so high. Eventually, you will come upon a great quote by Mr. Brackett. “The world isn’t made up of atoms, it’s made of stories.” There is many an interesting story in this book. I urge you to pick up a copy.