Three Men in a Boat

An early June mist kept me company for the first half-hour of a dawn drive to Rutland for the 2007 IFFA Spring International Competition.  There was little indication at that early hour of the searing heat that awaited the competitors later in the day.

When the International Fly Fishing Association calendared the event they could hardly have predicted that the heat of Summer would burn down on the boats in late Spring, but burn it did, as the toasted faces of the teams bore witness later in the day.

I should explain that this was my first visit to an international fly-fishing event.  I had offered myself as a boatman and on the drive down was wondering what I had let myself in for!  I am a river man first and a reservoir man last, so I hoped I wouldn’t make some uninformed mistake that would lead to an international piscatorial incident!  The sounds of the piper aboard the Scottish team bus as it arrived certainly sounded like they meant business!

I needn’t have worried.  Dave Newing’s briefing to the day’s boatmen covered all the necessary rules and his early morning good humour stood us in good stead when we met our competitors.  The teams paraded to the boats, led by the pipes, in good time for a 10 a.m. kick-off and we looked forward to an eight hour stint.

                                      Boarding at 10 am.

I introduced myself to Baz Reece for England and Kenny Hunter for Scotland who had drawn my boat.  This was Baz’s 12^th England Cap.  He had previously won caps in The World and European championships, winning two silvers in the Europeans.  Kenny was enjoying his 4^th Cap for Scotland and had already won two golds.  So, there was plenty of experience in the boat except, of course, in the middle, where the international event virgin sat. 

                                   Baz Reece.

                                    Kenny Hunter.

                                    Kenny Weighs in.

 I broke the news to the fellas and they took it on the chin.  In fact, as the day wore on, they both proved to be patient teachers and real sportsmen.  Despite the searing heat and tough fishing conditions they were happy to explain their tactics to me and give me fishing advice all day.  I learned more in a day than over the past couple of years.  Despite reading the fishing mags and books on most fishing styles, nothing could beat watching experts under competition conditions.

                                       England.

With clear skies for most of the day, temperatures over 20C and precious liitle breeze, finding the level at which fish were holding was never easy.  Both men began with floaters, Kenny’s with a ‘midge tip’.  Baz had a fish within 40 mins and Kenny caught one 30 mins later, both off Carrol Creek.  The Scots had found fish here in practice, but as is so often the case, it’s hard to predict whether they might have stayed around or moved on.  As it turned out they were hard to find and we crossed the Water to New Zealand Point.  Baz had found fish here earlier in the week and the move turned out to be fruitful.

                                         Ireland.

The gentle north-westerly breeze, when it appeared, carried the boat on a cracking drift down to Berrybutts Spinney which covered fish in 10-15 feet of water, confirmed by Baz’s nifty plumb line ( a tape measure from the Pound Shop with a ball of lead attached!).  After all the hard work over at Carrol Creek it was rewarding to find feeding fish at New Zealand and between 12.56 p.m. and 1.40 p.m. Baz had three and Kenny took two.  During one glorious spell fish were coming to the net every few minutes as follows:

12.56 – Kenny

1.13 – Kenny

1.16 – Baz

1.32 – Baz

1.40 – Baz

                                       Scotland.

If, like me, you’ve flogged yourself round a reservoir on a hard day failing to catch fish, you’ll appreciate the excitement in the boat when we contacted them.  I’ve got to tell you, not having a rod in my hand at that point was hard to take!  Every fibre of my casting arm wanted to chuck something at them!

Both men were fishing teams of four flies, with an occasional small booby, but in the main a variety of buzzers and crunchers’ did the damage.

Baz and Kenny cursed the heat long and hard as we sometimes drifted in a flat calm.  Kenny’s exquisite Scots cursing was a joy to hear.  It was then that I promised I’d turn them over if I smelled them cooking.  If they hadn’t been so hot they might have laughed!  Their generosity of spirit to each other and sportsman-like behaviour in conditions that would have tried a saint were remarkable.

As often happens, the fish turned off the feed for a while and it was 2.52 p.m. before another fish was caught.  By 5.00 p.m. they had six each and it stayed that way.  By that time we had drifted over the same water a number of times at a variety of distances from the bank and very occasionally saw fish move on the surface, keeping the interest levels up.

                                           Wales.

Make no mistake, despite the good humour the competition was serious and hard won. 

On the day, the England twelve won the event with 84 fish.  Scotland took 65, Wales 54 and Ireland 51.

I know that the organizers don’t find it easy to sustain the necessary number of boatmen required for the competition season.  If you haven’t tried it I can recommend it to you as a way to learn and an exciting day on the water. 

At the end of the day, everyone had something in common, whatever their background or country of origin………..a face burned to the colour of an English rose!!

Report submitted by Steve Dolton : many thanks from all at ukflyfisher.

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