A painstaking confession that adds feathers to a dressed fly

My preparations have been painstaking though there is another in the household who prefers the term obsessive. I’ve decided to have a bit of a rethink.

Steve has been banging on at me for over a year to have a go at this Tenkara fishing lark. It’s all to do with very long fishing sticks, droopy bits of line (that closely resemble baler twine) and no reel, which all sounds a bit iffy to me.

There is no real casting involved, apparently one just flaps the limp string around, hoping that the fly lands in the water. Steve has mumbled something about old dogs and new tricks.

Anyway, I have decided to give it a go and have even bought a Tenkara rod.

My friend and I, Martyn Roberts from ‘All water fly Fishing’ in Harrogate, have made a pact that our first visit to the Rye will be a “Tenkara only” affair. We will be well away from prying eyes and no cameras are allowed! If I feel that you are up to it, I’ll let you know how things go.

I have it on Steve’s authority, that there is a fool-proof method for catching fish with this style of gear. He tells me that, first, I need to know where the fish are; no problem there then.

Next, I flail about with stick and string in order to drop a little fly on to the water five times in a row; seemingly, it is an absolute guarantee that I will catch a fish on the fifth flap.

Yes, and I’ll believe that when I see it.

There appear to be some mysteries and black arts involved in this new-fangled fishing lark, apparently. I need special flies in order to make it all work; reversed hackle or some other airy fairy fancy concoction.

If I ever find out what that means, I might give it a try but, for the moment, that’s just a step too far. I can see the advantage of a fly with a bit of mobility, so for a start I shall try the drop fly from about 1800, which incorporates ostrich feathers into the dressing.

I’ve always thought that ostrich feathers bestow mobility upon anything that they happen to adorn, the Victorian ladies proved that with their hats.

So, whilst visiting South Africa recently, I decided to gather some plumage from said creature. I did mention the possibility to an ostrich farmer who pointed out possible spanners in the works.

First, the best feathers are on a male ostrich between the top of its leg and its bum. I was assured that sneaking up on them is not a good plan.

Ostriches have two razor sharp toes on each foot; with which they launch a kick that can disembowel a grown man.

They can also do about 45 mph and if you fall down whilst running away, they are so stupid (their eye ball weighs more than their brain) that they are likely to mistake your head for an egg and sit on it for 40 days.

Returning featherless, I have a confession.

Kate, when you and my son Sam were married last week, I could not help admiring that fabulous feather boa that you wore; the smattering of ostrich at the back just set it off perfectly. I know that we were all a bit distracted by the photographer, but yes, it was a bit of a liberty.

When you see the photos, all the white stuff blowing down Bedale market place is not confetti. Oh, and there really is only a tiny bald patch at the back.

Flies dressed by Stephen Cheetham.