8/14/2019 Guides Diary September

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/guides-diary-september 1/250 Irish Angler 

General Fly Coarse Sea Tackle

Guide’s Diary 

Driving slowly down the hill, I catch glimpseso the estuary through the trees. Like somemagical gold and silver eece it reveals itsel only to those who know where and when tolook. I stop the car and get out to study the

secret map that I will ollow or the next ew hours. White sur breaks in clean gleaming lines along the sandbars o the outerreaches, channels o rich green and blue water cut throughdeposits o bright gold sand and you already know that thetide is beginning to push in. Just outside, a small group o gannets are working on sandeels, not climbing very highto dive, they quickly gain some altitude and then turn and

spike. Tey are eeding close to the surace, caught suddenly by the morning sun, shining white, and then disappearinginto the warm rain o a summer shower. A rainbow arcs intothe sea.

Te anticipation o the early morning shing never really lets me sleep properly the night beore. I wake several timesto check the time; I don’t want to miss the tide. My headstings a bit rom lack o sleep. As I take the rod rom the carmy eagerness increases, all other thoughts disappear as I getthe smell o the estuary. I slowly tie on a y, check the leader,check the reel seat, push the rod sections together, wave therod a ew times, and tap my jacket pockets or y box andtippet. It’s always like this no matter how many times I do it,no matter how well I’ve prepared, a ew moments hesitation

beore the start. I begin to walk.Te reedom rom the responsibilities and constant hope

that normally accompanies me when I am guiding a clientis gone now. I am ree rom the burden o the anticipationthat the shery will perorm, and I notice many things thatguiding prevents you rom seeing. Te rippling lonely cry o a curlew welcomes me rom across the shining silver andgrey mudats as I make my way into the heart o some o the greatest peace I can nd. No tramping o eet or jovialconversation, just my light single step along the bubblingshore. Past the wreck and remains o the old timber boat,past the tall yellow pole with the mysterious purpose, around

He may be a guide, but sometimes Jim Hendrick just likes

to get off on his own to relax and unwind.

It’s not all about the shing.

8/14/2019 Guides Diary September

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the corner and out o sight, the urther I go the more theoutside world disappears. I am on my own time.

I sit down on a rock and look across and down the estuary.Te warm damp wind blowing up rom the southwest carriesthe sharp smell o the mudats to me. I hear nothing exceptthe wind whispering through the trees behind, the sharp callso oystercatchers, the odd beckoning call o a herring gull.Tere is a constant bubbling in the mud and shoreline weed. Along the edges o the rising tides I can see the quick marchstep, then stop, and then march o dunlins and behind themthe mullet show is beginning as the tide carries them intothe warm water. A squirt rom a clam catches my eye and

urther into the estuary the cormorants line up along a sandbar, arms held out wide.

Sitting and waiting, watching and listening, I know thesh will arrive. A silent green tractor crosses a yellow eldin the distance pulling a giant red trailer. Somebody throwsa stone, I hear it crash into the briars behind me, turn tosee and then in an instant I realise – the little bird now buried in the briars was avoiding the awesome ury, speedand power o a peregrine now pulling out o the chase – Ihear the sound o its speed as it ashes past me controllingits ight. I continue to wait. I run over the last ew days andthe events. Playing them out in my mind and thinking how Imight have done things diferently, realising how, ultimately,you cannot determine how anything wild will behave. Your

own expectations are not the same as other people’s andso I continue to mentally apply changes and ne-tune theservices. It’s inevitable that your thoughts will return to work – enough o that! I’m on a day of here.

I stand up and walk slowly into the water to waist height.Te tide is running through now and I make the rst ew casts getting the stifness rom my bones. Over the next ew hours I will sh or not, choosing as much time to do nothingas I eel like. I do not orce the shing to happen. I amcontent to be here with the opportunity to sh at my leisure,surrounded by a natural world that I enjoy. I am happiest inthe midst o its undemanding simplicity and innite beauty.

 A secluded estuary is the

perfect place to get away 

from it all.

‘I AM CONTENT TO BE HERE WITH

 THE OPPORTUNITY TO FISH AT 

MY LEISURE.’