LANDING-NETS AND OTHER EQUIPMENT
In Oppian’s _Halieutica_, a poem of the second century A. D., the
outfit of the perfect angler is summed up in the following couplet:
The slender woven net, the osier creel,
The tapering reed, the line, and barbèd steel.
Brethren, I would invite your attention for a few minutes to the
consideration of that net.
Ever had it catch in the brush, stretch its rubber loop to the limit,
then let go and, zip! soak you one in the back? or dangle, whether
at the front or side, where you continually are getting tangled up
in it, or where your flies become caught therein with a devilish
persistency? Sure! Then you vowed that henceforth you would proceed
netless and beach ’em, only to encounter immediately thereafter
that biggest trout of all, in a deep, dark pool, with beaching
possibilities “forty miles away”--and you lost him! Right-o!
Any reader who, like the writer, ever has lost three landing-nets
in four-seasons’ trouting, will be interested to learn that a most
serviceable article is easily to be achieved at practically the
cost of the netting itself and of a little time and easy labor,
the chief requisite for the frame being a bit of discarded common
telegraph-wire. In bending the wire to shape an iron vise is of
assistance, likewise pliers, and some hard flat surface, like a piece
of iron, to hammer the wire against.
For a short-handled frame, the whole seventeen inches long, make
the handle part about five inches long and have the bow about eight
inches at the extreme width. Make it somewhat triangular in shape
with an almost straight front side. This is a good shape at any
time but particularly advantageous for scooping up minnows. To this
end also have the net fine-meshed; and make the frame double across
the front so that one wire will serve as a guard to protect the
lashing-cord against contact with bottom stones.
This net is light, effective, and it slips easily into the
fishing-coat left pocket through the opening at the front edge of
the garment. There it is securely carried, entirely out of the way,
yet easily accessible when wanted. (By the way, we wonder if the
reader is “wise” to those sleeveless fishing “coats,” possessing all
the advantages of the old-time article but ever so much cooler on
a hot day.) If this net is dropped it will sink to the bottom and
there is some chance of reclaiming it in running water. Or, for added
security, a cord about three feet long may be tied to the handle and
fastened at the other end to a coat buttonhole.
[Illustration: Showing how to put the frame together]
Two pieces of wire, bent in the forms shown in Fig. 1, are bound
together with strong cord as illustrated in the photograph, the wire
ends at the winding points being beveled with a file.
If a longer-handled net is desired, bend your two pieces of wire as
shown in Fig. 2, bind together, and fasten to them a handle made
from a piece of old broomstick, so that the whole is thirty-four
inches long. The wire is riveted to the handle, a copper washer being
next the wood at either side and also outside the wire under the
rivet head. Make the openings for the rivet holes by bending the
wire around a nail and then jamming it up tight in an iron vise,
the jaws gripping close to the nail. Have the part of the handle
that comes between the wires, of a triangular, wedge shape--the back
representing the base of the triangle--so that it will wedge and hold
firm when the handle is extended with the net in use. A buttonholed
piece of leather is attached by a small brass screw, through a copper
washer, to the wooden handle just below the position of the rivet,
by means of which this form of net is suspended from a button or
hook that fastens the left breast-pocket of your flannel shirt or is
attached in the vicinity of your left coat-lapel. And the three-foot
piece of safety-cord may be used here also.
To prevent the net from dangling below the frame when folded, fasten
a loop of cord to the bottom of the net, and slip this loop over the
part of the handle which projects beyond the rivet joint; it will be
checked at the leather hanger, but will release itself automatically
when the handle is extended.
When either frame is completed, a coat of green paint may be applied.
Now that this net problem is solved, let us consider for a little
some other items of the angler’s equipment that make for safety and
comfort.
[Illustration:
The author’s net
Cravenetted (waterproof) hat with cork half-disks sewed to band for
carrying flies ]
Among these is a small rain-cape or poncho, that will at least cover
the shoulders but need not extend much below the bend of the
elbows. Such a garment is easily fashioned.
[Illustration: Shoulder poncho]
Get two yards of five- or six-ounce close-woven khaki duck, costing
(when this was written) about thirty cents a yard. Cut and sew it
together as indicated on the accompanying diagram. Allow a little for
seams, in cutting. The seam across the center should be a lap-seam
composed of the selvedges. The edges at the circumference are hemmed.
After basting the halves together by hand, have the seams and edges
finished on a sewing-machine. (Possibly you are on good enough terms
with your wife, or somebody else, to ask her.) The completed cape is
thirty-six inches from back to front, by forty-four inches wide. It
will reach to just below the end of the elbow and does not interfere
with casting. (While keeping it short in front it might be lengthened
to below the waist in the back, for better protection when stooping
or bending over.)
The center slit for the head is twelve and one-half inches long, and
is sixteen and one-half inches from the front edge of the cape. It is
reinforced by an extra piece of the goods three inches wide, sewed on
the inside (shown in illustration). The edges of this piece and of
the cape at the slit are turned in and sewed together.
Corresponding to this reinforcing piece but slightly larger, and
sewed along but one edge--and half-way across at the ends--is the
collar, three and one-half inches deep at the center and four inches
at the ends. It is fastened to the outside of the cape as indicated
by the dotted lines.
When the sewing is completed, melt one-quarter pound of paraffine
shavings in a tin vessel (placed in a second vessel containing
boiling water) and mix thoroughly with one pint of turpentine. Allow
the whole to remain in the hot water bath, while applying it with a
clean paint-brush to the outside of the cape. Dry the cape in the
air. It may show streaky, but you can drive the paraffine into the
cloth fiber and distribute it evenly by pressing the garment with
a hot iron. A smaller proportion of melted beeswax sometimes is
incorporated with the paraffine in such waterproofing operations.
Anyone with the least experience in camping will know of what
paramount importance it is that you clothe yourself in woolen
underwear. It need not be heavier than medium-weight, but it should
be of wool. Even in midsummer it can be very chilly in the mountain
altitudes that the angler haunts, after sundown especially; and it
can be chilly at any time after a ducking in the stream, in the
wind, with cotton next the skin. By the way, where the water is
unusually treacherous, don’t hesitate to cut a piece of sapling for a
wading-staff.
Your hat should be an old felt one, with a brim for better protection
from the sun and rain. This same paraffine solution will waterproof
that hat too, but it will need a few ventilating windows at the
sides; or it may be “cravenetted” or given a dose of lanolin. A handy
thing to go around the hat is a leather or woven band to which cork
half-disks are sewed for sticking flies into; or the band may have
riveted to it strips of metal carrying little clips.
When next we shall have considered the angler’s footwear, these
include about all the essential articles of clothing that pertain
especially to the fisherman; though we might add the general
suggestion that no article of outer wear should contrast too strongly
with his surroundings. This would give preference to such subdued
colors as gray and yellowish- or greenish-browns.
To wear waders, or not to wear waders? Whether ’tis best to discard
them and get boldly wet, without any idea of trying to keep dry,
or whether we shall encase ourselves within these air-excluding
mackintoshes and stew in our own sweat--regardless of the fact that
one is almost certain to go “over the top”--that is the question.
There are three factors to be considered: foothold, dryness, and
locomotion. If waders--either mackintoshes or hip-boots--are used,
you must have hobnailed wading-brogans to wear over the feet of
the one, or leather sandals with hobnailed soles or some similar
contrivance for the feet of the other. Screw-calks are an advantage
over hobnails, which have a faculty of becoming loose and dropping
out when the sole leather dries after long soaking. These calks may
be transposed as required, those wearing down quickest being moved to
another part of the sole and replaced by some less worn. In addition
to the woolen stockings next the skin, a heavier pair also are worn
between wader and brogan, to ease the chafing of the former. These
sometimes are turned into the tops of the brogans, making a double
layer where the raw-hide lacings (keep them well greased) are drawn
around the ankle at the tops of these shoes; but a better scheme,
because keeping the sand from getting between stocking and wader,
is to pull the outside stockings up to full length and to secure
the tops around the wader with a rubber-band. You can get these
rubber-bands--and useful for so many other purposes--by cutting them
from played-out auto-tire tubes.
[Illustration: Cutting across country]
[Illustration: The ford at high water]
The banana-peel can assume no airs in the presence of a rock
covered with slimy moss. A dangerous fall in or along the stream
may prove no light matter for the lone angler, far from camp or
farmhouse. A simple emergency expedient is to wrap strips of canvas
or burlap or bind pieces of rope around the feet of rubber boots.
Sand works into the meshes of the cloth and gives it a good gripping
surface; or a pair of woolen socks may be worn over the boots--while
they last.
Don’t neglect to have along with you some kind of a rubber-patching
outfit. These are sold by the tackle-man and also by rubber-goods
people; the familiar tire-patches and cement will serve the purpose
pretty well. Good waders cost money; we wonder why a fellow couldn’t
make something that would serve, of ten-ounce duck--patterning
after an old pair of boughten goods--having lap-seams and being
waterproofed with the beeswax, paraffine, and turpentine compound or
something even better for the purpose.
Waders are all right--generally--when actually wading, but are
cumbersome to walk in; besides, walking subjects them to excessive
wear and tear. And, frequently, as much or more walking along stream
is done as walking in the water. On the other hand, wading without
waders is chilly business during early Spring fishing. The only
solution here is to carry extra footwear in the shape of something
light that can be slipped into when you desert the stream for a
considerable hike over dry land, the while you hang the waders around
your neck. For general hiking, the regulation Munson last army
shoes are the thing; and the dope for them is one, two, three parts
respectively of resin, beeswax, and mutton-tallow, melted together.
Never dry out wet leather shoes by exposing them to too direct and
strong fire-heat; fill them with hot sand or pebbles. Moccasins or
felt slippers are a great comfort in camp.
Many veteran anglers have solved this wading problem, in a manner
satisfactory to themselves at least. The early Spring fishing--except
perhaps for very short snatches, and not too far removed from ready
access to a good warm fire indoors--has long ceased to appeal to
them very strongly; and ordinarily from the middle of May on they
can keep very comfy without waders. They get right in, but keep
moving and don’t stop to rest at any time when there is the slightest
suggestion of a chill. If camping, be sure to dry out thoroughly or
change to warm, dry clothing before going to bed. The best stimulant
after exposure is hot tea or hot black coffee, and warmth. Alcohol
generally is better applied outside.
This reminds us that the hot-water bottle--of rubber or the canteen
so used--comes in mighty handy when accident or sickness occurs in
camp. You always can prepare the water, and the bottle filled with
this and slipped under the patient’s blanket may add much to his
safety and comfort; or a hot stone wrapped in cloth may be utilized
as a substitute. And the device isn’t so bad for cold nights even for
the camper who is perfectly well.
And don’t forget that first-aid kit. It should include some compound
cathartic pills or cascara laxative, two-grain capsules of muriate
of quinine, five-grain aspirin tablets, “Sun” cholera tablets, a
few two-inch gauze roller-bandages with small cartons of absorbent
cotton and sterile gauze, tincture of iodine, some needles with
catgut sutures in alcohol in tubes ready for use, a couple of artery
clamps, some surgeons’ plaster, and a hypodermic syringe with a
few strychnine, cocaine, and morphine tablets for use with same.
Before you leave home have a chat with your family doctor and make a
memorandum of what he says about just when and how these things are
to be used in an emergency. And though you probably will escape the
necessity for the use of any of them for yourself or your immediate
party, it is very satisfactory when you are enabled to play the
“friend in need” to some member of another outfit or to some honest,
whole-souled farmer, far from any source of prompt medical relief.
A mosquito-dope that is cleanly, and about as efficacious as any, is
a mixture of one ounce each of creosote, oils of citronella and of
pennyroyal, with two ounces of olive or castor oil. The addition
of a tube of carbolated vaseline augments the wearing quality. For
some woods pests the incorporation also of three ounces of pine tar
increases efficacy, but makes it much less pleasant to use. Mix by
heating the tar and olive or castor oil, then stir in the other
ingredients over a low fire until they are thoroughly incorporated.
Two good and simple preparations are: two parts citronella, two parts
spirits of camphor, and one part oil of cedar; and, the other, nine
parts castor oil, eight parts sweet oil, two parts carbolic acid, one
part oil of pennyroyal. A fly-dope in much favor with salmon-fishing
guides of the Gaspé country consists of equal parts of pine tar and
castor oil with the addition of a little bisulphide of carbon. All
these are good sunburn lotions also.
Every article you read that tells about what to take with you into
the woods mentions the compass; but you do not see much note of the
pedometer. This inexpensive little instrument will add much to the
pleasure of your outing. It is easily adjusted to your individual
average length of step, is very reliable--as the writer has proven by
checking up with his auto odometer--and it is a satisfaction to know
distances definitely, as the length of certain trails or exactly how
far you are from the nearest post-office, farmhouse, or some other
point of special interest.
If not already informed, you will be glad to know about those
government section-maps, to be had from the Department of the
Interior, that note in great detail all the essential features of
about almost any section of country that you may be planning to visit.
And don’t overlook that flashlight, with extra batteries.
“J. A. C.”, in _The American Angler_, tells about a friend who
possessed “a barrel of tricks worth the attention of the angling
fraternity. I was fishing the Concord River, Massachusetts, with him
not long ago. It was raining; a bully day for fishing but a hard day
for smoking, which is the special consolation of a wet day out of
doors. He was in the bow of the canoe and I was trying to paddle just
near enough to make good casting for both of us, myself fishing at
the same time and trying to keep a pipe going too. Some job. Every
once in a while I saw him lean over, open his coat and apparently
scratch a match on the lining. It looked sensible to me, so I tried
the same trick. But it didn’t work. Finally, I asked him how he did
it; the matches wouldn’t light on the inside of my coat. He turned
around, opened his coat toward me, and then I saw he had sewed onto
the lining a _bit of rough emery-cloth_, about two inches wide by
five inches long. ‘Great scheme, Jim,’ he said.”
THE ANGLER’S CAMP