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At first glance Australian Fly Patterns is a big, glossy and eagerly anticipated addition to the literature on Australian flies. However, as author Peter Coulson rightly states in the Preface “it is not a definitive reference book or a dictionary of Australian fly patterns.” As the cover blurb claims, the book is “a compendium of flies and patterns that have proven their value around Australia”, although the suggestion that “you must have these patterns in your fly box” is perhaps a little rash as there are said to be more than 800 of them, all beautifully photographed and reproduced in full colour. There are some 250 glossy pages in all, hard bound with dust jacket, and the book is sure to provide weeks if not months of entertainment for fly fanciers and fly tiers across the country. The flies included cover all aspects of fly fishing—trout, natives and saltwater. I should stop there because, delving a little deeper, I’m left with more questions than answers. You will find little text as such, just a photograph and a basic tying recipe for each fly. Occasionally there is an explanatory note in relation to how to fish a particular fly but hundreds of patterns (particularly trout flies) include no supporting information. No when, where, how or why. Assuming that the scope of the book is merely fly name, photo and recipe, the lack of an index also seems surprising. Given the name of a fly (often obscure—like RC4C), and a desire to look it up, the book assumes sufficient prior knowledge to place the fly in one of 29 chapters, and from there the names are listed alphabetically. But there are some curiosities. Say for example someone told you to fish a Zulu, and you went to look it up. You’ll find one Zulu (eventually) listed on page 167 under Wets, and another Zulu (noted as a variation) on page 39 under Dries accompanied by a photograph of what must surely be a palmered Red Tag? Look up Nymbeet and you will find two versions which seem identical as far as I can tell, but neither is true to the legendary original. Anyway, an index of fly names would have saved a lot of time. Would you know to associate the name Peacock & Gold with Caddis, or Styx Special with Beetles? The title Australian Fly Patterns is also worth comment, because the book has a strong Victorian bias, particularly in the trout department. It also includes many fly patterns developed in other countries, although this is not acknowledged—Mrs Simpson, Hamill’s Killer, Craig’s Night-time (on the cover!), Fuzzy Wuzzy, Hairy Dog and Matuka (a chapter), just to name a few trans Tasman wet-fly migrants. Surely the origins of such flies should be listed in the fine print? Fly-tying has such a rich and proud history, I would hate to think that the next generation will know nothing about the development of the flies they use. Of the 800 or so flies, more than half it is claimed have never been published. Many are “so-called variations” although the original ties are not given (if given they are not identified as such). A glaring omission is the failure to acknowledge the originators of many of the fly patterns shown, or are we to assume that the person listed in the book as having tied a particular fly also developed the pattern? Should this be so, Michael Milczuk would be credited with the Pheasant Tail Nymph and Coch-y-bonddu, and Peter Coulson with the Twilight Beauty (worse than an underarm delivery to the Kiwis!). Several grasshopper patterns in the book credit ‘Fulling Mill’ as the tier—perhaps there is a local Mr Mill with first name Fulling, otherwise this must surely be the commercial UK based fly supplier. So who do we credit with developing all these patterns? In the end I am left contemplating not so much what this book delivers but, given the budget, what it could have achieved. But, as I said up front, it’s a handsome enough book full of interesting flies, and worth the fifty bucks to add to the collection. |