“Did you have a nice time darling?” If only they knew the trials, the struggles you endure. You’re not nice to be around now and given to dark and sullen muttering. And fish-envy. You will find out who your real friends are’
It catches up with all of us sooner or later. Sometimes it moves on again with merciful speed to visit itself on some other poor soul. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it stays. And stays. Then stays some more, like a bad dinner guest who refuses to leave.
We all have ‘off days’. You can put it down to that at first if you like. But after a while you may notice a constellation of all of those random little misfortunes that until now seemed unconnected – the lost car keys on the morning of departure for your long planned trip, the snapped rod tip, the expensive polaroids that slip from your nose and are lost to the depths, that hook stuck in your… you get the idea.
But this is all just normal life-type-stuff, right? Except that now you start to notice too the drop in performance, like you’ve forgotten how to cast or tie knots quickly and without fuss. The trees crowd in towards you to gobble up all those errant cast flies, and the fish.. well the fish. It’s all about the fish when it comes down to it isn’t it? And now they seem to have developed extrasensory powers when it comes to discerning your fly, your presentation and indeed your very presence itself.
But, and here’s the thing, this only applies to you. Because that noisy, blundering duffer just a short way along the bank is shrugging again, almost apologetically, as he/she nets yet another fish, caught on the most hideous and poorly presented ‘fly’ to ever shame a hook shank. While you blank. And continue to blank. And then blank some more. You move on to find a new place where the fish may be more obliging. Meanwhile The Duffer moves into the spot you’ve just vacated and continues to catch.
That’s when you know you’ve got the curse. After a while, and this is where it really starts to bite, The Duffer, buoyed up with self confidence, will actually start to offer you advice. Honestly.
It’s about now that the self-doubt starts to creep in. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been an angler, how accomplished you are or how good you thought you were. All of that is now in question. And the fish can smell it. So can your fishing friends. It’s in your demeanour. And your bad mood when you get back home. “Did you have a nice time darling?” If only they knew the trials, the struggles you endure. You’re not nice to be around now and given to dark and sullen muttering. And fish-envy. You will find out who your real friends are.
This situation is not making you happy, but rather than adopt Zen-like acquiescence and take a break to await your chi to be restored, instead you battle on with grim determination, reaping the diminishing returns of bitter frustration and continued disappointment. After all, as Winston Churchill supposedly said, if you are going through hell keep going.Or alternatively have a cup of tea and watch the cricket. The fish will keep.
Writing & Images Darjeeling – June 2023
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