I remember peering through the bushes intently, awestruck at the grace them old duffers displayed while sawing their line back and forth in a double haul, back and forth seemingly without effort, leader never tangling, and I wondered whether I would ever be skilled enough to do likewise …
… and whether I would ever lose my fear of them same mean old SOB’s when it came to critiquing my casts, and like church, would I ever be accepted as a member of the congregation, able to walk erect versus hiding in bushes fearful some old cuss would claim I was afflicted with limp everything.
I remember thinking it must take forever to learn such skill. Now I find out “forever” is cheap – only about $79,000 worth …
Former garda and keen angler James Moynihan, whose fly fishing arm was seriously hurt in a scuffle with late night revellers, has been awarded damages of just over €43,000 in the High Court.
The math is actually pretty fair. Figuring a minimum wage of $10 an hour (it being a labor of love therefore you can be paid a pittance) that would be a monetary settlement of 7900 hours, or 329 days.
The average angler fishes nine times yearly, but spending most of his time arguing with kids, erecting tents, deploying stoves and camp gear, inflating mattresses and answering, “No, we ain’t there yet!”
Figuring seven of the outings are the garden variety two day weekend, and two are the rarified three day “Total Woodsy Immersion” that makes 20 days per year of fishing.
Each weekend contains two such days, so that’s 20 days per year of fishing, suggesting that 329 / 20 = 16 years of fishing to learn how to cast effortlessly.
Quicker if you ever lived up to them offseason promises …
That sad looking fellow in the photo appears to be needlessly suffering. One could attribute this to a lack of “them same mean old SOB’s” in his life.
As of late, “them same mean old SOB’s” stand clear of me. They have all taken their turn and I have been found wanting. Their best efforts cast upon stone.