‘Tenkara is an ancient form of Japanese fly-fishing where the line is tied directly to the rod tip, with no reel, much as Charles Cotton would have fished in Izaak Walton’s Compleat Angler’
Three days fishing tenkara with cane and horsehair in the summer of 2019
July 20th
This moment was inevitable and my heart is in my mouth. The fly lands just ahead of the fish, off to one side. There is a tail-twitch but no take and I am wondering if the crimson hothead is too much today as the fly swiftly drifts back towards me, unmolested. But for some reason, the fish turns at the last second, pursuing the kebari downstream, jaws open, hunting it down, hooking itself; I can’t miss. It is a good fish of a couple of pounds and the first proper test of the horsehair line and of the bamboo rod now bucking in my grip. There is no time to wonder now if either is up to the job as the fish pulls strongly towards the snags. The rod goes over to the side, parallel to the water, turn the fish, another run, same again then rod held high, get the fish’s head up, tire it quickly. Fish is in the net, breathe, sense of relief then a realisation that my fishing system of bamboo and horsehair was never really challenged at all. It was evolved, tried, tested and used for generations by those who know.
So, it works and surprisingly well and, thinking about that last statement, there shouldn’t really be any surprise at all. But there is more. While I’m not sure if this system will enable me to do more or different things on stream (…though time alone will tell on that…) there is another dimension to the experience of fishing with bamboo and horsehair, in that it feels different, both physically and metaphysically.
Physically, yes, in many ways – more of this later. Metaphysically, in that the interface, the connection, between angler and environment feels fundamentally different – for this angler at least. Of course there is the aesthetic, the pleasure of fishing with the beautifully handcrafted. Then there is the uniquely warm feeling that is reward for supporting and engaging with fine, traditional, artisan craft. These things I sought and gained when I acquired my own bamboo tenkara rod. The unexpected dimension is that of connection and is harder to put into words. But I’ll try; bamboo rod and horsehair line creates for me a natural continuum between angler and fish in a way that carbon and synthetic casting line just can’t. It’s as though my fishing gear grew out of the ground itself, formed of nature itself and, of course, in a way it is.
I can’t really explain why, but when I’m fishing, this notion just makes me feel… well… happy.
July 24th
It is magical here. Outside, a sweltering heatwave but, under this deep cool emerald canopy, we are travellers in a different land. And for this brief but delightful journey my fellow traveller is made of golden canes: Hotei-chiku (golden bamboo) for the heart, Ya-dake (arrow bamboo) for the head. Their rich colour is heightened by many layers of Urushi lacquer so that the rod and the iron stained rocks of this little stream look as one. I hold the rod and I can feel its vibe, an echo of traditions handed down.
The rod was once part of nature, a living, growing thing. Perhaps that’s why I feel I need to bring it back to wild places like this, to the places where I feel most comfortable, places where it can live on, anew. My ancestors – my father, his brother, their father, his brother and further generations back – all were English furniture makers; me too for a while. Wood lives on past the tree’s felling. That’s what I learned. Keiichi-san says to put the rod together like a tree, with the nodes set like alternate branches.
The rod is ten feet long in three sections, its style is of plain and functional utility, a business-like tool for the efficient catching of trout. The action at first seems stiff, agricultural even. But the rod is surprisingly light in the hand, and tie on a balanced horsehair casting line and this rod springs into life. It is beautiful; beautiful to hold and behold, to cast with and to catch with. It is made by master craftsman Masayuko Yamano in a process staged over several years. It has travelled far to arrive in my hands – I am blessed- and today on my first cast it catches a fine trout in the blazing sunshine of the high peaks.
But eventually the searing heat drives us off from the high moor and so here we are at this magical place; a little woodland stream of placid pools, rocky riffles and the dark intrigue of deepening cuts. But it’s the fizzing energy at the foot of the falls that draws us on today.
For the shady dark canopy overhead I had tied on a pale stiff hackle fly that sits high. It’s soon struck by little trout in the foamy water at the tail of the fall. The first one leaps and skitters and shakes the hook free, the second too. The third little trout sticks and comes to hand. No trophy size fish – it’s far more than that. The rod feels very happy here.
August 3th
It’s surprising, sometimes, how quickly you can get used to something. I’ve been trying out bamboo and horsehair tenkara for only a short time now and already it’s feeling…well… natural, I guess. Yes the rod is heavier than my modern tenkara rods and the casting stroke is different for horsehair line, but I’m discovering that I can do pretty much the same things with this set up as I can with my other rods.
Today I’m fishing with Karel Lansky. Karel is picking pockets impressively with his Diawa Sagiri, a wonderfully lightweight sieryu rod that casts like a dream. He’s racking up a very healthy tally of fish captures as we leapfrog up the river. At first I’m struggling to keep up. It’s not a competition but I’ve set myself the challenge of trying to match Karel’s success rate with my ‘rustic’ shorter ten foot rod and line.
It’s an interesting contrast. Karel’s Sagiri is the epitome of a modern ‘sport’ rod, beautifully balanced, refined and responsive. My Wazao rod would be considered these things too, if you were to travel back a couple of hundred years. And that’s what I love about my rod – it just feels authentic and true to its heritage. An efficient fish catching tool, no more, no less. I can’t bring myself to put a synthetic casting line on it, for me it asks to be fished with horsehair, and in a short space of time this has all begun to feel quite normal. How far I’ve travelled becomes apparent when a try with Karel’s Sagiri pulls me back to the future.
I am happy, though, to get my bamboo back and I’m now settling into the groove, the fish are coming, my casting is improving and I’m enjoying the challenge of targeting ever smaller pockets and ever more subtle flow mosaics to search out the fish. We both catch with surface and subsurface presentations as we move upstream, and some nice fish come for both Karel and myself. We finish up with pretty much identical fish tallies – around twenty five fish to hand each with both of us each having a further dozen or so trout hitting the fly but not sticking.
For me, tenkara is seldom a numbers game in itself, but today has been an interesting experiment and a good confidence booster on my new path. I’ve greatly enjoyed meeting and fishing with Karel for the first time, and learning from my observation of his approach to the river. A really good road trip and the bamboo bug is biting ever deeper. Happy days!
Writing & Images David West Beale – Spring 2025
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