Every year, usually my first fly fishing outing, I bring along some friendly spirits. They accompany me in the form of fishing equipment that close fishing friends once owned and ultimately ended up in my hands. Usually, a next of kin wanted me to have it or the angler gave me the item before he passed beyond the riverbend. Over the years, I have fished with a rod that the late Joe Areno wanted me to have and one that the late Gordon Leeman once owned, or perhaps with the late Ralph Lichtenstein’s wading staff. Perhaps I wore a pair of waders that the late Tony Lorio‘s daughter, Catherine Gallant, passed on to me. While using the fishing equipment, I recall the fond memories that I had fishing with all these gentlemen who have since passed beyond the riverbend.
Yeah, I know it is goofy, but I actually feel their spirits and quite frankly enjoy their company. It allows me an opportunity to once again remember them and to reflect upon the good times that we had fishing.
Such was the case this year. Actually, it didn’t work out that my first day fishing this year was with them but with some live friends. So, this year, I took one along on my second trip….and this time my friendly spirit was that of the late Charlie Lahey. He passed away in 2010, at the age of 101, just days before his 102nd birthday. You may recall my writing about this gentleman and our fishing together when he was 101 years old….and he caught a couple of trout!
Last fall, his daughter Andrea Dimassimo surprised me with a wonderful birthday gift. Old Charlie’s flyrod, reel, vest, etc. She said that Charlie would want me to have them. He probably bought that flyrod in the 1950’s or 1960’s and back then, 50 years later, Charlie who was 100 years old at the time, would tell me that there was a lifetime warranty on that rod. How we would chuckle over that. Well, the least I could do was to take him fishing with me this spring.
So off we went, me with Charlie’s stuff, his Fenwick fiberglass flyrod, his Pflueger 1495 ½ fly reel, line, etc. I even took along some flies that Charlie had created when he used to fish the Mad River in VT. He named it the Mad River Special, a bucktail fly with an orange body, yellow throat, brown deer hair wing, woodduck tail and junglecock wing. On the rare occasion when he was having no luck with that fly, he would try his tandem fly (two hooks) with a fly on the front hook and a bare hook in the rear. He used to put some garden hackle on the rear hook. He named it his Add-a-Worm fly.
Charlie was a well-known angler from the Berkshires and VT and several articles were written about him in this column as well as The Berkshire Eagle. He was so famous that he ended up in the Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame in Hayward, Wisconsin. Gerry Gibbs, famous writer for Outdoor Life Magazine and a Vice President from Trout Unlimited National, came to the Berkshires to present the award. Charlie’s induction was not just a listing in some log of honor or anything like that. No, his picture is on a plaque hanging on the wall along with notables such as Lee Wulff, Kurt Gowdy, even Isaac Walton.
You can well imagine the thrill of my fishing with this friendly spirit and using his rod and reel. We started off in the morning fishing the East Branch of the Housatonic River in Hinsdale, MA. I fished with his Mad River Special fly, with the predictable results – zilch, nada, no fish would even look at it. It brought me back to the many times when Charlie would be fishing between me and another deceased friend, Dave Oclair, and he would haul 2 or 3 nice trout right out from t under our noses and promptly release them unharmed. Dave and I were fishing the same pattern fly in the same type of water not 20 feet away, using the same action and we would catch nothing. Old Charlie really got a kick out of that.
There was a bench along the waters where we fly fished and periodically we would sit there and have a bite to eat and enjoy the day, usually a sunny comfortable one. Occasionally, we would have a swig of bourbon from my flask. That was Charlie’s preferred booze. Hey! He was 100 years old and it didn’t harm him yet. Then we would fish some more. What a privilege and honor to spend that time fly fishing with him.
I had to chuckle at the continuing lack of success with his fly on this day. It was only fitting, for that fly was created by and only responded to Charlie. I’ll bet he was looking down and chuckling while advising me to fish it slower, fish it lower, twitch it a couple of times, etc. I wanted so much to catch a trout on Charlie’s old flyrod and fly, but I finally had to switch flies.
This time I tried the Brown Charm, a fly that was developed by another renowned local fly fisherman in the 1960’s, the late Bill White. There were few accomplished local fly fishermen in the 1960’s-1980’s who hadn’t fished and had success using the Brown Charm. The late outdoor columnist, Ted Giddings, in one of his columns, called it his favorite fly. It was a wet fly with a pheasant tail, buff body ribbed with brown thread, wood duck wing and brown hen hackle. Thanks to another local fly fisherman, the late Homer Ouellette, who gave me the original pattern of that fly several years ago, I was able to tie it up.
Using Charlie’s old rod and reel and Bill’s fly, I cast it out into a likely looking run of the river and wham! There it was, the trout which made my hopes come true. The brown trout was lightly hooked in its lip in such a way that it was not necessary for me to touch it or remove it from the water. With the use of a hemostat, I simply clamped onto the barbless hook and with a gentle jerk unhooked it. The fish was in excellent shape as it swam away into the darkness of the stream. That fly produced other fish that day, too.
How cool wass that, catching trout on an old rod that was once owned by someone who is now listed in the Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame.
An old philosopher once said, “It is the responsibility of those who live to carry on the hopes and dreams and spirits of loved ones and friends who leave us behind”. I guess that is what I was doing. What a nice feeling resting on a streamside log amidst the fiddleheads and trillium watching and listening to the babbling river while enjoying the pleasant spring day and fond memories of old Charlie.
“Here’s to you, old fella, we had another wonderful day.” I muttered to myself. “As always, I enjoyed your company”. Then, with scratchy eyes, I raised the flask and took a healthy swig of bourbon.
Incidentally, I learned about that above-referenced old philosopher, Richard “Dick” Gotshalk, while reading a recently published book entitled, “Holy Water, Flyfishing Reveries and Remembrances” by Jerry Kustich. It was advice given to the author by the philosopher shortly before passing beyond the river bend. Holy Water is a book written by a man who has spent his entire life as a fly fisherman, fishing rod maker, outdoor lover and conservationist.

I really related to this book as it appeared to be written by a fly fisherman approximately my age who recounted certain events in his life which occurred over the years….memories of his first fish caught, the places he worked, the places where he lived, people who influenced him during the years, the heartbreak of losing a loved one, working for Sweetgrass Rod Company, the river access issues that existed in Montana and other western states, Atlantic Salmon fishing, the increased interest in salt water fishing in the Caribbean, etc. Those events served as wonderful reminders of some of what our generation went through as well as provided a history lesson to generations which follow.

Prior to now, I had never read any of Kustich’s books. He wrote several, including, Flyfishing for Great Lakes Steelhead, At the River’s Edge, A Wisp in the Wind and Around the Next Bend. I intend to do so now after reading this book.

Through his angling essays, he has a writing style that tugs at the heartstrings of the fly fisherman that few authors have. Similar to what the late author Norman MacClean did with his epic novel, “A River Runs Through It”. I was wrapped in this book from the Introduction to the final words on the last page. Incidentally, on that last page writing about himself and his late wife Debra, he wrote:

“Time evaporates like water falling on hot pavement, so it is important to choose activities that are good for the soul while it is still possible. I often look back to that September on the Madison (River in Montana) in 1981 when Debra and I vowed to travel while we were still young enough to do so. As if that experience were a portent of things to come, we committed to a path of uniqueness like there was no tomorrow. It was a sacred journey. I could not have imagined back then that the Madison, beautiful in itself, would have inspired the subsequent decades of adventures to so many other inspirational waters that now seem to me holy. But that is the nature of rivers. One leads to another, and then another. They flow on forever, and forever connected, they enrich our souls and touch our spirits with mysteries that none of us can fully comprehend. Perhaps that is why we keep on going back.”

See what I mean about writing style?

The 187- page hard cover book costs $24.95, is published by West River Media and is available just in time for Father’s Day.

Trout Stockings
The following waters were scheduled to be stocked with trout last week: Green River in Alford, Egremont and Great Barrington; Ashfield Pond in Ashfield, Walker Brook in Becket and Chester, Westfield River in Chesterfield, Sackett Brook in Dalton and Pittsfield, North Pond in Florida, Housatonic River in Dalton, Hinsdale and Pittsfield, Upper Highland Lake in Goshen, Hubbard River in Granville, Williams River in West Stockbridge and Great Barrington, Norwich Pond in Huntington, Pontoosuc Lake in Lanesborough, Lake Buel in Monterey, Konkapot River in Monterey, New Marlborough, and Sheffield, Lake Garfield in Monterey, York Lake in New Marlborough, Windsor Lake in North Adams, Otis Reservoir and Big Pond in Otis, Green River and Hemlock Brook in Williamstown and Windsor Pond in Windsor.