‘Just short of a century later, the rod is here in Catalonia. I didn’t fancy a trip to Iraq (not too welcoming), Indian mahseer are far more difficult to reach than they were even twenty years ago, but the mighty Ebro presented an opportunity to battle Silurus Glanis (Wels Catfish) to give it a proper test’
Carbon fibres, glass fibres and bamboo fibres: the great debate amongst anglers ebbs and flows but for me it is the ‘made by Nature’ bamboo fibres, crafted into ‘built cane’, on almost any measure. Cast your eye with reverence over a hand-planed,split-cane fishing rod and you are examining fibres grown in Mother Earth and caressed by an artisan. This old Hardy in front of me has fibres as straight as a ruler, retaining strength and whispering those magic words to the angler:
“I won’t let you down”
There are two reasons why I can’t tell you immediately what rod this is. The first is that, a few years ago, I took it upon myself to refurbish it in a not very sympathetic style. By that,I mean that whatever was left of the Indian ink writing was removed, together with all rings and varnish, and from there I rebuilt it with whatever fittings I had laying around at the time. I was clearly concerned about delamination below the bottom section ferrule as I can see I whipped that first, very thoroughly, for a full six inches. I used white thread so it became translucent when varnished, presumably the overall intent being to provide some kind of bandaged protection, before then going on with a coarse grade of scarlet for rings and intermediates. Close inspection reveals a good job (albeit the purists will be aghast) with very careful later application of a tung oil finish.
The second reason is because I am getting old and my memory is fading. I think I bought the rod from an auction site and I am certain it said ‘Palakona’ and ‘Salar Spinning’,but any more than that is lost.
I always thought the rod to be about nine feet something but it comes as a great surprise, when put beside and measured against a B. James MKIV Carp, that it is only marginally shorter, so about ten feet is more correct.
We can be confident about the age because Hardy were quite particular how they marked their rods. In 1927 they used the stamped numbers (on the brass butt cap) from E5883 to E9435, and this is clearly marked E6604, so I am going to say it was quality-checked and passed out from the Alnwick works in January to February of that year. A kind friend pointed me to a full online version of the ‘Hardy Anglers’ Guide’ 49th Edition 1927, scan-copied clearly enough to distinguish the rods on offer that year, through which I gradually worked my way. Pages 195-200 discuss ‘Palakona’ and I am now thinking that this rod may also have a ‘tempered spring-steel centre’ described as “practically indestructible.”
The rod has ‘Stud-Lock’ joints (Pat.14632/23) and double‘Screw Grip’ reel fittings (Pat. 20875/22) and it looks like the double fitting was, on some models, an optional extra at twelve shillings and sixpence. Most aspects of the rod match closely to the JJH no.1 Spinning Rod but this one here is a beast of a thing and, bent against more modern rods, I believe the test curve is over three pounds and perhaps closer to four. So, I don’t think it is a JJH no.1.
My conclusion: this is a one-off and Hardy (back then at least) would go a very long way to meet their customers exacting requirements. I suspect a series of ‘to and fro’ correspondence led to this rod commissioned at ten feet, stud-lock joints, double-screw reel fittings and a stepped-up steel-centred heavy taper. Perhaps Captain MDW Bird (p.260 of said Hardy Guide) procured this in anticipation of a posting to India for mahseer or a trip to the Tigris from his base in Mosul for Lucio Barbel.
Just short of a century later, the rod is here in Catalonia. I didn’t fancy a trip to Iraq (not too welcoming); Indian mahseer are far more difficult to reach than they were even twenty years ago, but the mighty Ebro presented an opportunity to battle Silurus Glanis (Wels Catfish) to give it a proper test. The river here is two hundred and twenty yards wide, twenty to thirty feet deep a rod length out, and we are well off any beaten track, adding an extra element of jeopardy to the venture. My guide is a resident Catalonian but in a previous life he played left full-back in Romford, whilst I ran just ahead in midfield. Late at night our chats descend to stories of our youth and the madness of it all. As I said, ‘in a previous life’ thanks goodness, for both of us.
It was at night that the alarm sounded. No confounded electronic contraptions was required; the old JW Young’s Windex ratchet quickly reached a ‘one-tone’ note as a catfish picked up our bait and headed upstream in the general direction of Andorra. Paul smiled. This is it; we’d been scheming this moment for five years or more.
Those fibres, probably originating from Tonkin cane sourced and shipped from Guangdong Province a century ago, stretched and strained in the torchlight. I leaned into the fish, using a leather glove as an additional brake to the heavy and tightened clutch. In the dark the fish ran and ran, and at one point probably two hundred yards had left the reel.
I wonder what stories this rod could tell. Was this its hardest day or am I just a mere child to the man that last strained its fibres to a full battle curve? My fish was landed after a mighty tussle and the resurrection was complete.
The journey doesn’t end now, perhaps it will never end, and maybe this rod will outlive me. Tonight, under a Catalan moon, it will once again be a ‘Rod in Hand’ and perhaps the ultimate test of those fibres will follow, first grown a continent away and a century ago. We are in the lap of the gods and those that went before us, and if it happens tonight, I know it won’t let me down.
Writing & Images – Tengisgol, Autumn, 2024
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