The mysterious joy of fishing

Nov 13 2007 by Moc Morgan, Western Mail

WHY does a fish take what the angler offers it at the end of a line?

This simple question was asked by a reader of this column. Apparently he and his mates had been discussing the issue for quite a long time – over five pints of ale in the local pub to be precise – but the answer evaded them. I told him I had often pondered at length over the same question – without the assistance of pints and without finding the answer. There are many anglers – among them some very learned gentlemen – who have tried to provide answers – but these have always varied so enormously.

Among some “learned” anglers can be found psychologists, scientists, anatomists, physiologists and epistemologists who look at things from a different, scientific perspective – but I doubt whether any of their answers to the riddle have been any more reasonable or correct than those of the ordinary bank-side anglers.

Without exception the answers always gravitate around the word “food”. There is some consensus that fish consider the fly, bait or spinner as something that could be nice to eat.

When it comes to coarse fishing I am sure that this answer is very accurate because coarse anglers use items such as maggots, luncheon meat, bollies or sweetcorn to entice the fish.

But coarse fish differ from trout – although both like to feed on maggots. However, I have my doubts whether game fish place the same importance on food as coarse fish do – the sewin probably doesn’t and the salmon certainly does not.

I believe food must form part of the answer – but it is definitely not the whole answer.

Many years ago I recall taking a big trout from the Pont Llanio Pool on the Teifi.

At the time there was a flourishing milk factory nearby and every weekend the machinery had to be washed and cleaned.

The pool lay just below where the pipe from the factory flushed into the river and millions of small maggots which had thrived in the waste pipes were pumped out into the river.

The trout loved them and every time the pipes were flushed I bet the fish thought Christmas Day had arrived.

The trout I caught on this occasion had a small fish measuring around six inches in its gullet with its tail sticking out from the mouth. Yet it took my Sunfly – my favourite dry fly. That fish had definitely not taken my fly because it was hungry.

Others reasons given for trout going for an angler’s offering are curiosity or playfulness or indeed anger at being provoked in such a way.

These reasons have often been supported by anglers and many have experiences to prove the point. A trout’s mouth is the only part of its body it can use to explore, attack or defend anything coming at it from above or through the water.

The emotions as described above reflect human emotions and one wonders whether they are appropriate to describe the reaction of a fairly simple creature which has a small, small brain.

When observing fish I think we must somehow project ourselves into its lifestyle. Its mouth could well be used in ways similar to how we use our hands and lips.

Angling is very different from other sport because of the role the fish has to play. Success or failure depends on the reaction and response of the fish.

In most other sports if the participant performs well, then the result will reflect this. In angling the performer may well give a perfect performance in all the skills required but it will all be in vain if the fish do not respond.

In angling so much of the initiative lies with the fish – unless the angler can offer him something that brings a response, all is in vain.

I love fishing for sewin at night – and when a sewin takes the fly into its mouth in what is to me total darkness I am totally mystified. Did he see the fly? Did he hear it land on the water? Did he want to play – was he angry – or was he looking for a bite to eat. What mystery still!

The only thing I am certain of is that at night I as an angler am far more responsive to the slightest pressure on my fishing line that I am in daylight. When I sense that a sewin has mouthed my fly – what utter joy.

One day, with technology moving so fast, we may know the answer to all our questions about the habits of fish. Will we then be happy? I hope that I will not be around. I fear that to me such knowledge would mean the end of the joy of fishing.