Fishing

Fishing has been perhaps the hardest gallery to start to put together. Fishing photographs have been the hardest for me to make for any number of reasons:

The light ( weather ) is generally lousy. Fishing is a solitary activity. Good fishing requires a level of concentration which means you are not thinking about anything else. Its a wet activity. Cameras are averse to wet.  Finally, if the fishing is good, the last thing I want to do is pull out my camera!

The photo I want to discuss is the one from the title banner. When I show it to people, the first comment is always about the enormous rod the angler is carrying. It's a Spey rod, a type of two handed flyfishing rod used to fish for steelhead or salmon. In the hands of an experienced caster, it can cast a fly 120 to 150 feet out in to the river.

The picture itself is of my semi-brother Ken stepping in to a run on the Clearwater River in Idaho. It was made, by my calculation, on the fourth day of our friendship. I marvel at the fact that at a time in my life when new friendships are rare, I have happened upon this one.

It was late in the day and we had come to this spot to fish through the last few hours of daylight. Walking further up the bank, I turned to see the light streaming downstream and reflecting off Ken, his rod and his reel. I took the camera out and made a single exposure, knowing it was the "one" the moment the shutter released.

It is my favourite fishing photo ( and one of my few colour images ) because to me, it sums up what flyfishing and particularly steelhead fishing, is all about. Most of the time, you feel like you are painted into a Chinese watercolour landscape, dwarfed by your surroundings. For the older generation of fishermen, its about peace and solitude and perhaps being momentarily swallowed up by our environment. Many hours of effort are required before hooking a steelhead. The act of catching a steelhead is for many of us, our sole opportunity to touch something completely wild.

Perhaps because it represents so many grand moments in life, I never tire of looking at Ken stepping quietly, gingerly in to possibility.