fishydreams

Paul Daniels used to have this magic kettle. It would pour out anything that anybody wanted. I am not just making this up. It is true. I saw it on the telly. When he told the audience that the modest metal kettle he had in his hand could dispense any drink that anybody might want, everyone was sceptical. Why not? Who wouldn’t be?

And so he called somebody up to the stage and asked them what they wanted to drink. The first punter said that he could murder a cup of tea. Luckily, the producers of the show had the foresight to anticipate what the audience might be drinking and so a table was prepared with cups and glasses of various kinds. An assistant promptly located a cup and saucer and this was handed over. Out came the tea, piping hot, from the spout of the magic kettle. “Do you want milk with that?” Daniels asked him. He did. Out came cold milk from the same kettle! 

That was just the start. One person after another took to the stage and they got whatever they asked for – red wine, white wine, single malt whiskey, brandy, draught Guinness. You name it and it would appear. 

There were a bunch of rugby players in the audience. You know what these guys are like. They gulp down pints like there was no tomorrow. I remember them, I think, because they all asked for the drink that I would have chosen myself had I been let anywhere near that kettle. Each asked for a pint of lager and the kettle duly delivered one frothy pint after another.

It´s hard to think of anything that might be better than Paul Daniel´s magic kettle but it occurred to me that maybe there could be. How about a magic fly box?

One of these might dispense with whatever fly you might need. No more boxes of flies! You just size up what might be on the menu and then instruct the magic fly box to cough it up. Grayling are sipping little dries? I´ll have a parachute Adams size 18. The bass are chasing sandeels? give us a Clouser. There´s a deep pool that might have a decent trout in it? Let´s have a tungsten nymph with some rubber legs for the hell of it!

When I first thought of the magic fly box it had me foaming at the mouth. All my prayers were answered at once!  But then the doubts started creeping in. With that fly box in my possession, gone would be the excuse that a missed fish or a blank day was because the exact fly was not available. I have had a lot of mileage out of that one! Gone too would be that feeling of rummaging through the incarcerated inhabitants of my fly box to decide which of the prisoners might temporarily be let out on parole or, at a time of desperation, of finding a saviour when all hope seems lost. And, for that matter, gone too would be the hours at the vice creating or amending established patterns or breathing new life into others. That magic box would make the vice obsolete and its absence would necessarily be accompanied by the loss of the imagining and dreaming and hoping and inventing. These are all the companions of the vice and all of them would be gone.

If a magic fly box were to appear, would you take it?

_{Published in Fly Fishing and Fly Tying Monthly, August 2022}