TALES OF FISHING
Review by Ian Ainslie

As a sea-going captain with the British Conference Lines servicing Australia and New Zealand—before the advent of container ships—Bryn Hammond plied the seven seas with cargo and passengers. With fly rod at the ready he took every advantage of the stop-overs and loading delays to sample the fishing at hand.

During one such visit to Hobart to load apples for the markets in Europe, unseasonable weather had delayed the ripening of the crop. “As a consequence of this, what might have been a week or fortnight of loading, could be spread over a month —even more . . . Being a trout fisherman I don’t think the delay bothered me too much.” And so begins the tale ‘Kangaroos and Rainbow Trout at Dee Lagoon’.

While most of the tales centre around experiences in New Zealand as the title suggests, Bryn Hammond has travelled the world time and again and even his New Zealand tales are likely to begin with digressions about Italian whores in Genoa or quotes from the likes of Scholes, Maclean or even Plato! Along the way he pursues and unlocks a few
of the myths and mysteries surrounding the expeditions and writings of Zane Grey with less than flattering findings.

There are 14 stories in the book and each is much more than a fishing tale. Hammond focuses on the places, people and events that made the trips memorable. His aim, to convey something of the magic of fly fishing, is achieved despite some rather awkward type-setting.

Tales Of Fishing (In New Zealand and beyond), Bryn Hammond, The Halcyon Press, 2001, paperback NZ$34.95.

CALL OF THE RIVER
Review by Ian Ainslie

As a prolific contributor to the pages of FlyLife, Philip Weigall needs no introduction to regular readers and as Steve Vizard says in his Foreword “Call of the River brims with good talk and engaging stories. It is not the same as going fishing with Philip, but it is close.”

Phil acknowledges that “Much of the inspiration for this book comes from time on the water with others.” And for me it’s the companionship, humour and passion in the stories that is far more important than the techniques, flies and locations –although for those looking for the ‘how and where’ each story holds good advice.

There are essays from Philip’s home rivers of Central Victoria and from places as diverse as Tasmania, New Zealand and Europe. Chapter headings such as: The High Snowys; The Back Country; Eucumbene; Midges; Mackenzie Country and The Creek, build expectations of the fishy tales to come.

The book is addictive, like the sport, and for those of us who like to read about the fly fishing exploits of others and measure our judgments and decision making against theirs, Call of the River is a welcome addition to the fly fishing library.

Other FlyLife connections include a spectacular cover shot by Bill Bachman and some evocative pencil illustrations by Trevor Hawkins.

Call of the River, Philip Weigall, Penguin Books Aus. 2002, hardcover $39.95.

THE FLY
Review by Ian Ainslie

Sourced from a previously unpublished manuscript written around 1965, Stevens Publishing has presented The Fly as a small book, limited edition and leather bound. As the late Dick Wigram says in the book, it is not specifically about fly tying but more about flies and the people who made them, and as such it is a fascinating insight into the thoughts of one of Tasmania’s fly fishing and fly tying legends.

Wigram discusses the development of some of his own patterns such as the Brown Nymph and the Green Matuka and expands the discussion to include other fly fishers and flies that have an equal place in history, such as J. M. Gillies (Great Lake Beetle), Reg Lyne (Lyne’s Fancy), Stuart Napier (Nymbeet) and Max Christensen (Yeti). These and other flies are photographed in colour with their dressings detailed.

The book is A5 size, 63 pages, leather bound and limited to 250 numbered copies. It is small and expensive but none the less a significant publication in terms of the history of fly fishing in Australia.

The Fly, R. H. Wigram, Stevens Publishing 2002, leather bound $250.

FROG CALL
Review by Rob Sloane

Quite frankly I can’t picture Greg French sitting in a directors chair, wearing a felt beret, sipping champagne and reading excerpts from his new book Frog Call at some bloody tedious writers workshop. Slumped on a log, staring bleary eyed into the glowing embers of an illegal campfire, wearing a crumpled bush-hat, swigging from a bottle of cheap port and rambling on about some impossibly big fish, is more the Greg I know.

I don’t care if Dr Bob Brown reckons Frog Call is some sort of ‘brain food’ for green intellectuals. Greg French is one of us, and he writes dinkum guide books and gutsy fishing stories about where to go and what to use.

Earthy maybe, but profound? Literary thinker and gifted story teller? Mirth, passion and hope? Stories about fatherhood, relationships, love, matters of the heart and soul, and bigger universal themes? Mateship, trout fishing, nymphs, spinners and wild places . . . that’s more like it!

Being a mere fishing writer I am not qualified to pass judgement on this book even though my name has been taken in vain a number of times in its pages. Just because I like Frog Call so much doesn’t mean that you will, although I fear it may have universal appeal. Read it and judge for yourself. Here’s a little sample:

"When I was a teenager I photographed an unusually splendid panorama of the remote lake country. It overlooks my desk, watching like a Madonna. Mostly it is a source of solace but a pin-up is no substitute for a relationship and when I have neglected the bush for too long the image fills me with melancholy. I get frustrated that the air in this photo does not smell, that the sun can’t burn my skin, that the weather cannot suddenly turn bad and threaten me. I long for the totality of the bush, its exhilaration and unpredictability. I grab my fly rod and backpack and I’m gone."