The spectacle of spring and the arrival of the migratory birds make for a miraculous time in Iceland, where I was born and raised. Here in the Florida Panhandle there is really no winter, comparatively. However, there is a distinct spring. It is spring when the migratory birds travel through to destinations further north (robins, orioles, etc.), and the ruby throated hummers arrive and make their presence known. Most are migrating through, but some take up residence in my yard. Then in the fall the hummers migrate south to Central America. Their migratory routes can be along the coast west to Texas and then south through Mexico to reach Central America. They can also cross the Gulf of Mexico, and that is quite a feat because these small birds cannot land on water. They can travel via the Florida peninsula to Cuba, and then use the Caribbean islands to reach South America.
So, what is so special about these birds? First off they are so tiny – 3.75” long and weigh in at 0.11oz (9.5cm – 3.2g). Then there is the physiology. Their resting heart rate is 500 bpm, increasing to a whopping 1200 bpm when flying. Then there is the wing speed – the hummer can beat the wings 50-200times per second! The birds can hover in the air, ascend or descend straight up and down from that position, and fly backwards. To be able to accomplish that their brain has grown to about 4% of their weight, the largest of the bird brains, based on percent of body weight (human brains are a paltry 2%). For this rapid metabolism they need lots of energy. I take advantage of that and have feeders with a sugar solution ready, hung from the pergola from late March onward.
Then I can sit back and enjoy the birds and sometimes I manage to take a photo of them that is in focus. To freeze them in the picture you need insanely fast shutter speeds, for instance, the featured image was shot at 1/3200 of a second and still one wing is blurry. They also can slow down their metabolism at night and enter into a state of torpor just to awaken the next morning for another day, like waking up from the dead. These pictures are of a male (the females are very similar without the red patch). When a male has found the feeders, he tries to defend them from all other males. Females get to drink, and I smell an ulterior motive.
Here I managed to get a picture of the bird with the tongue sticking out. Their tongue is very long, and they use it as a micro-pump to get the nectar.
The coloring of their feathers and the red throat are based on the iridescence of the feathers. Depending on the sunlight the color can be striking. And generally, the hummingbirds have an absolutely breathtaking display of colors, depending on the angle of light and the iridescence of the feathers. The bird seen perched on my fly rod has a commanding view of “his” feeders which he will defend from other males.
In these times of the plague I find it reassuring that there is a lot to cherish and be in awe of in nature around us that goes about its business, regardless of our worries. The hummers are certainly a booster to the daily dose of antidepressants. I certainly love those wonderful birds.
I enjoy observing various forms of wildlife where I live. I have touched upon some of the aquatic species in Pensacola Bay and in the Gulf. Now I want to do the avian part some justice. I recently took my dogs on our daily one-hour walk, starting from my house, and saw the birds I cover here. To spot all these birds during an hour’s walk within a small town is amazing. The spotting part is easy – these are big birds (except for the Kestrel), but if you don’t pay attention you will not see them.
The first bird is the great blue heron, and it’s ubiquitous around here. The heron and I have at least one thing in common, and that is fishing. However, the heron does not cast any fly, instead stalks the shoreline, and uses its sharp beak to spear its prey. The stunned prey is then just summarily swallowed.
The red-tailed hawk lives and hunts around our recreational center – in the middle of town. There are several wide open fields, and it can view the menu from various vantage points. I absolutely wouldn’t want to be a rabbit crossing those fields. This hawk is quite the poseur, and is not nervous around people at all. I encounter him on my walks at least once a week.
For the Icelandic readers, our language has two words for its falcons – fálki and haukur (fálki i.e. gyrfalcon). Haukur is the same word as hawk. In USA there are numerous hawks, but they are not in the falcon family. The red-tailed hawks are quite a bit bigger and chunkier than the Icelandic gyrfalcons. I must say that I find the table manners of the gyrfalcon more refined, than those of the red-tailed hawks. The gyrfalcon will sever the spine of its prey before dining, but the hawk does not observe such niceties, and just starts eating its prey. The prey might be dead from the impaling talons, but often it’s not.
Then I noticed two bald eagles soaring – too far up to photograph (I use an old photo for this blog). They are unmistakable with their white heads and tails. Their number seems to be growing, but that might just as well be due to my powers of observation. The fishing prowess of the bald eagles is legendary and known to all. Their table manners, however, are appalling.
The ospreys are everywhere here in the coastal areas. They are superb hunters and eat preferably live fish. They cruise over the water and then dive down, hitting the water with their talons first. They can become totally submerged, then pop up again and take flight with a fish in their talons. I have noticed when they fly off with their fish, the fish’s head always faces forward. Whether it has to do with aerodynamics, or the osprey is just being nice with a scenic flight is unknown. Then the osprey tears the fish apart and that is that.
I think they have a sense of humor, or at least one of them has. One day I went fishing and was catching Spanish mackerel left and right, and releasing all the fish I caught. When I came home an osprey flew over and dropped a mackerel on my driveway!
The kestrel is North America’s smallest falcon [weighs ca 4.1oz (120g)] and is similar in size to a mourning dove. I once noticed a smallish bird sitting on top of the uprights of an American football goal at the recreational center’s grounds. Those uprights are really high. By sneaking in and using my longest tele (approx. 640mm – handheld – sometimes you just get lucky), I got this shot of the kestrel surveying its hunting fields. The big hawk and the small kestrel can coexist because the kestrel goes for insects, invertebrates, and the small fare. So each bird occupies a different niche. Judging by the droppings (the white stuff) on the pole, it is clear that this is a well-used vantage point for the kestrel. I find the kestrel to be a beautiful bird.
Now for my biggest surprise of the dog walk. I noticed some movement in an abandoned eagle nest. This huge nest sits very high from the ground in a dead tree. In order to be able to see over the top of the edge you need to be far away. First I spot the “horns” and then I see the unmistakable owl face. Then I spot the owl chick. I had never seen this owl before. The great horned owl is a huge bird (22” or 55cm high) and an apex predator. Only the great gray owl is bigger here in USA, but the gray owl is a resident of the north part of the US. The great horned owl is found all over Canada and the States. The owl kills its prey by squeezing it if it survives the initial impact. Those talons are able to exert 500 pounds of pressure per square inch (30psi is your car tire pressure)!
After I posted this I got this e-mail and correction from Lucy Duncan.
Your blog was certainly interesting. I would make only one correction, and that is of the nest in which the Great Horned Owl nests. It is not an abandoned eagle’s nest. The trail is called the Eagle’s Nest Trail because there used to an eagle’s nest there 70 years ago when my husband was a boy here. That tree and nest had long been forgotten by any eagles by the time I moved here in 1966, but in the 1970s or early ‘80s, a tornado took that tree down and the nest with it. The nest you now see is an Osprey’s nest. Or, I should say it was an osprey’s nest! The owl nests much earlier than the osprey, and when the owls leave that nest, an osprey could move in. If there were a competition for the nest, the owl would certainly win.
So, Every Jonah has a Whale….. and you have woven quite a delightful tale of your own.
Thank you for sharing.
Thanks Lucy – I opted to place the whole e-mail here to prove that someone does indeed read my blog!
Also please have a look at Capt. Baz’s comment after the blog entry.
https://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/IMG_1256-scaled.jpg17072560Jonas Magnussonhttps://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/FFI_9846_Logo®_Casting_Instructor_CMYK-600x476.jpgJonas Magnusson2020-03-02 18:35:142020-03-03 19:53:00A great blue heron and five raptors - my neighbors
One person in my stable of blog characters is Capt. Baz. No, don’t worry, this one isn’t about him. However, it started with him.
“Hi Jonas – my little brother Dave is in town, and he really would like to learn to fly cast,“ was the gist of our phone conversation, followed by “and it is on the house too!” I am fine with “the work is your reward” philosophy if I am teaching something. However, Baz, manual labour is a straight no no no.
Dave showed up, and he was an exceptional student from the outset. When I am teaching raw beginners I find one issue in them all. It doesn’t have to do with the movement, but rather lack of it, i.e. they just can’t stop the hand/wrist and rod when they make the backcast. So, their backcast will look like the picture below.
The motion we are trying to teach starts with our upper arm vertical, and under arm horizontal (90 degrees). Then the hand is moved up and back with constant acceleration to an abrupt stop until the underarm has reached the vertical position with the wrist firm. This movement should be smooth, and the acceleration constant, but the stop must be abrupt. There are some issues with the constant smooth acceleration, but that can be ironed out rather quickly. However, the abrupt stop on the back cast is very hard to accomplish in the beginning. The drawing below shows a good backcast.
This near universal inability to stop the hand/wrist and rod is a bit baffling when you come across this first when teaching (conveniently forgetting how I myself struggled). We use our arms and hands all the time to do all kinds of complicated tasks. We certainly can stop a forward moving hand hard (think fly swatter – hammer). But, when you think about that particular backward motion, we do not use that often in our daily lives, if at all. When we gain the ability to stop our hand on the back cast – the backcast will be straight without slack – setting up a good forward cast. My task as a teacher is pretty much wrapped up when my students understand the importance of the abrupt stop and straight backcast. All the rest is tweaking this or that.
But returning back to Dave, it turned out that he could absolutely stop his hand wherever I wanted him to stop it, while keeping the wrist firm. On top of that, the constant acceleration part was there, too. This piqued my interest, so I asked him what his work was. “Oh – this and that in business“ was the answer ” and I am a drummer (i.e. sort of a musician).” Now this was very interesting to me, and sure enough the musculature of his underarm was exceptionally well developed, and precisely those puppies control the wrist movement. Biceps and triceps have to do with flexion and extension of the elbow.
We had two short sessions, and at the end he was double hauling, and shooting line with ease. A week later he calls “How long are these fly lines?” It turned out that he was casting into the backing (fly lines are around 100′, some shorter some longer). That is a very long cast for even excellent casters.
Last January Capt. Baz, Odell Mullis and I went to the Bahamas to escape the Florida winter, that is, what there is of a winter. This was Dave’s first encounter with bonefish and he had been told that they would be very hard to catch. We don’t go to a bonefish lodge, so it is low key and self guided. The Bahamian flats are just stunning. Vast flats become dry on low tide and then the tide comes in, and the bonefish follow to get to the smorgasbord of the inundated flat.
Yup, you guessed it, Dave with a bent rod became a recurring theme. Bent rod when I only almost had a strike!
The bonefish subsequently released. Needless to say, Dave caught numerous bonefish on his first trip with us.
I gotta go now – the UPS guy is at my door delivering my set of drums.
In a previous post I covered this river – see below. The current post deals exclusively with the two uppermost fishing spots – i.e. the Réttarfoss pool and the Réttarstrengur run.
The crew for this trip was my fishing partner and friend Sibbi – https://everyjonahhasawhale.com/?p=1783 – and Hilmar Konráðsson, with whom I had not fished before – but I will gladly fish with again. Then there was my American friend and traveling companion Odell Mullis in the role of photographer. His job was the hardest – fingers freezing – electronics sluggish, and rain constantly splattering the lens.
The salmon in Hrútafjarðará can get up to Réttarfoss, but can’t jump that waterfall. Therefore, the pool below the waterfall invariably holds numerous fish at the tail end of the season. However, it is awkward to fish, and casting in the canyon can be problematic. The position taken by most anglers is close to the middle of the outflow from the pool. That is not an ideal position. You get too close to the fish to my liking, and you are practically on top of some of them. This violates two of my fly fishing tenets: no unnecessary wading and don’t get too close to the fish.
We were fishing there in late August ’19, and the conditions were challenging. Just a few degrees above freezing, and wind was barreling up the canyons from the north, and the blessed rain was there too, and there was a lot of both. The amount of water flowing was quite a bit over the average. No fun wading in those conditions.
By tiptoeing close to the black basaltic rocks to the position you see on the photograph above, we were in a relatively concealed position to cast over the outflow tract of the pool. However, the fly was not going to move across the water in a way we like it to do. After some rumination Sibbi says “let’s try a hitching tube here, and just strip it across the outflow.” This is why I love this guy – he is always ready to try something unconventional. The salmon loved this, too, and we had great fun for a while with multiple salmon striking the flies, and there were some takes and then some salmon landed. (It is called hitching when the fly is riding the surface and a V shaped disturbance on the surface forms – see video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0TYgn_oO2Q )
The current is usually sufficient to make this happen, but by stripping the fly we made it go faster than the current, thus making the V on the surface. This strategy saved the day for us and will certainly be tried again. This is a very good reminder not to get stuck in some routine. If your approach does not work, try something else. It really does not matter how you don’t catch fish – does it?
After leaving the Réttarfoss pool the river flows over some rocks, and is shallow and spread out with no channel. At the rock formation – seen clearly in the third picture below – the river forms a channel, Réttarstrengur, that is pushed up against the west canyon wall. The salmon will be there from the run’s beginning, and can be found for 100 meters (more or less depending on the amount of water). There are always salmon there – you may not catch them, but they are there. We take great care not to get too close (no wading there), instead we use longer casts, and the fly must be delivered on the opposite side of the current for best results. Then you pull it into the current and now you mend. Small flies are our choice there. Take care to cast with quite a sharp angle not more than 45 degrees to insure the fly swings first over the fish – not the line then the fly. To do that you need longer casts as you do not want to wade or get close to the channel. Make an effort to keep the line and leader straight, that way the fly is fishing from the get-go. For the Icelandic crowd – see the excellent book Af Flugum, Löxum og Mönnum by Sigurður Héðinn a.k.a. Haugurinn page 72 on Smáflugur. Réttarstrengur is without doubt one of the premium runs in Icelandic salmon rivers.
You really should practice before your fishing trips, preferably with a casting instructor. I have witnessed multiple times anglers in expensive rivers with no cast at all. It is a mystery to me why anyone buys those costly permits, and shows up with no cast. Most anglers I come across in salmon rivers would do well to take some lessons. When you are riverside it is too late to learn how to cast.
This is how far away from the river’s edge we like to be. There is no sense in getting closer if we can cast over the run with a sharp angle from where we are at. By and large anglers wade too close and also too deep. If you get too close – the fish see you, and it is game over. If you wade too deep you lose height and your cast suffers.
Sibbi keeps his distance and is rewarded with a beautiful salmon.
Subsequently released into the river.
Odell and Hilmar seeking shelter from the wind, cold and rain.
https://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/IceFishFalls-Jonas-1-scaled.jpg15622560Jonas Magnussonhttps://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/FFI_9846_Logo®_Casting_Instructor_CMYK-600x476.jpgJonas Magnusson2020-01-16 15:46:582020-01-16 15:47:00Réttarfoss and Réttarstrengur in Hrútafjarðará
This list of natural wonders is in itself enough to keep anyone full of awe and profound respect for the forces of nature.
In Zion I spotted some vultures soaring in their familiar fashion. I suddenly noticed a much bigger black bird cruising in the canyon. I immediately thought “it’s a condor” but nay – they are so rare. Probably the rarest extant bird in the world. My wife got in two shots with her 200 mm lens (you need more, but it will have to do) and when we blew up the image the case was settled. The white coloring on the wings’ underside clinched the diagnosis. A condor it was, and we were suitably impressed and thankful for getting to witness this majestic bird cruise effortlessly in Zion canyon.
Humans are capable of immense destruction of nature. We are in a period of extinction of animals and moving towards a climate catastrophe. However, humans are also capable of immense feats when we choose to. When we understand that we are a part of nature – not its outside masters – it is possible that we can solve the environmental problems we have created and survive and even thrive. On my positive days I am a pessimist and I do not harbor much hope that we as a species will come to our senses. However, the condor story gives me hope. I choose to recount my condor story because it is positively amazing, and it underlines what we are capable of when we set our minds to it.
The Condor Project
1987 Californian condors were nearing extinction. The US government funded an ambitious and expensive plan to breed and then reintroduce the condors. All extant Californian condors were caught and brought to participating zoos. The Condors will lay one egg every other year. If that egg is promptly removed, they will double clutch (i.e. lay another egg). The chicks were hand reared and little by little the stock increased. Now, to make certain that the condors could survive when released, two female Andean condors were released in South California, and they did fine, thereby proving the point. Subsequently those two Andean condors were caught and returned to South America. Now, condors have been released in South California, in the Grand Canyon Arizona, Zion National Park, and North Mexico. In short, the birds are making a slow comeback. Now their biggest threat in the wild is lead poisoning, acquired by eating animal carcasses peppered with lead shot. Hunters in condor areas are now supposed to use lead-free shot.
https://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/IMG_8323.jpg22223333Jonas Magnussonhttps://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/FFI_9846_Logo®_Casting_Instructor_CMYK-600x476.jpgJonas Magnusson2019-06-08 10:26:232019-06-08 16:27:46The Condor in Zion National Park
You can look, but don’t touch! Oh, how wise that advice is. We start out looking at the opposite sex – but beware!– we can’t resist! Then it seems we end up looking at cookies we shouldn’t touch, but then we do. Same goes for ours life savings.
I took a trip to an undisclosed Bahamian island in January with some of my friends. It is not a famed Bonefish destination. There are Bonefish there, of course, but they are very hard to find. The trip is about escaping the daily grind (feeding the dogs and cats) and enjoying mild weather as the winter rages in the Florida Panhandle. The company of friends is great, of course, up to a point (see picture below).
This time around the weather in the Panhandle was truly nasty, and the Bahamian weather was mild but very windy, with real tough fishing conditions. I seem to be fixated on the weather and I blame my roots in Iceland for that. The weather there is erratic and nasty as a rule. The wind is constant and brisk and it has shaped the way we walk. All really adapted Icelanders lean into the wind as they walk. When there is no wind, they still lean, and once I spotted one of my friends on a busy street in Stockholm just by the way he walked. There is something about the national style of walking that is a dead giveaway. All telephone conversations between Icelanders start with – and you could be at the Taj Mahal – how is the weather? Living at 66 North affects one. But back to the flats… Previously I have touched on the moving parts of Bonefish chasing – so I will not regurgitate that part.
Bonefish are a very exciting fish to chase. Hard to spot – finicky, and if hooked, tremendously fast. In the Bahamas they are protected, i.e., you have to release them. How best to do that? I am guilty of having handled fish and posing for an egotistical picture with the fish and then releasing it. However, the best way to go about this is to let them stay in the water and try to release them without touching them. The Bonefish and Tarpon Trust have a very good web page on this.
There is one reason additionally to not take a fish out of the water. In water they weigh very little (Archimedes’ law), but when out of the water the effects of gravity are stronger than they are used to. This can lead to internal bleeding when the internal organs experience this.
Here is a short video on how I managed to unhook Bonefish.
I gave a presentation on “Matching a Fly Rod to a Flyline” 1/18/19 for the Fly Fishers of Northwest Florida my local fly club. For my effort I was awarded a pair of castanetes by the club’s president Dr. Handley.
https://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Screen-Shot-2017-06-20-at-09.35.52.png443604Jonas Magnussonhttps://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/FFI_9846_Logo®_Casting_Instructor_CMYK-600x476.jpgJonas Magnusson2019-02-26 17:20:572020-05-23 16:16:50Matching a Fly Rod to a Flyline
When running an inpatient surgical ward there is a constant struggle to get the patients home after operations. There is, of course, some reasonable length of stay needed for serious matters etc. However, from my point of view some of my patients could go home sooner than they themselves wanted. There were all kinds of ploys used to hasten their discharge, but the opposition had some tricks up its sleeve, too. For instance, when I would do the rounds on Monday, I expected that someone would be able to go home on Wednesday. So, I would suggest discharge on a Tuesday. Then when the patient began to balk I would suggest: „Well ok Wednesday then,” and everybody was happy. The hospital had a library and the patients used it in their convalescent period (Icelanders are a literate bunch). Then I had the following rule to lighten the atmosphere in the wards where there were a number of patients together. Of course, the patients preferred the romantic genre of books, for example, the Red Series (Fabian bare chested, etc.). The rule: Whenever a book like that was spotted on a patient’s nightstand, they would be unceremoniously discharged (or an attempt would be made on the basis of the evidence). If you can read that stuff you are ready to go home, right? And It would happen that this did not go over too well.
At that time, we had a Surgeon General of Iceland Ólafur Ólafsson, who was and still is a crusty old guy. He sported bushy white hair, and his equally bushy eyebrows were in the Santa Claus class. He was at the tail end of his career at that time. His voice was deep and gravely, and had he been an American he would have been reading the voice overs in the Whiskey and Cigarette commercials. He probably would have put James Earl Jones out of the voice work. As Surgeon General he has a great sense of humor and the ability to see the absurd and funny in just about any setting. He was always a champion for the patients and their rights, and was never a tame tool for the politicians – he was a very unconventional civil servant. He gave me invaluable advice: “Jonas, just be yourself.”
Contrast him with the Suits and apparatchiki that we have met through our lives.
Author‘s addition to the definitions: A Suit – a civil servant totally devoid of any charm, humor or even a face.
Ólafur could be a handful, especially when he called in the middle of the night (he is a night owl) to discuss some pressing issue. You are fast asleep in some happy dream and then “It is Ólafur” and you began thinking – it must be some damn volcanic eruption. When he was still working, his offices were next to the square where the homeless and unfortunate souls of Reykjavik congregated. To his credit, he always kept a protective eye on his neighbors and tended to their needs. When he retired he palmed them off to another humanist doctor. I just love this guy for lots of reasons.
Now, one of my patients got offended by my Red Series comment and made a formal complaint to the surgeon general. Such a matter needed to be resolved and resolved it was.
I got a formal reprimand letter from the Surgeon General’s Office stating (loosely translated):
https://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/Screen-Shot-2018-04-18-at-18.51.12.png465546Jonas Magnussonhttps://everyjonahhasawhale.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/FFI_9846_Logo®_Casting_Instructor_CMYK-600x476.jpgJonas Magnusson2018-04-26 17:52:512021-01-01 09:54:16Reprimanded by the Surgeon General
Icelandic Medical Association centennial – fly casting course
In the fall of 2017 I got an email from IMA’s president asking me to teach a fly casting course to Icelandic doctors. The IMA is celebrating its centennial this year, and the president thought it a good idea to introduce some play into the pomp. I was all for it and started to organize the course. Indoor or outdoor is the first dilemma. Outdoor is a better option generally if we could have some other weather than Icelandic, but it is the only one we have there in the subarctic. There is a near constant area of low-pressure area at our latitudes called the Icelandic low.
We Icelanders never use that word or acknowledge the low’s existence because it is just too damn depressing. Denial is a robust defense mechanism. However, all phone calls between Icelanders start with “How is the weather?”
So, outdoors was not feasible. To get anything done in Iceland it must be before spring (if there will be one that year at all). When the days get longer, and temperatures get into double digits (Centigrade) the natives go nuts. It is impossible to plan anything because now everyone is so busy living and enjoying life – scheduling a course then would be utter folly. In the summers it is even worse to get together a group of people. So, March indoor it was. We secured a good size gym and announced the course, and all the spots we had available were promptly filled. Forty-five persons booked and 42 showed up. What I was most pleased with was that 15 ladies participated. Some of them were intermediate and some beginners at fly casting. Unfortunately, fly casting gatherings can get to look like a Trump rally at times. We need to attract young people and more females into the mix.
Stefán keeping an eye on Gunnar – Guðbjörg doing fine
Gubjörg bringing the rod tip too far back i.e. wristing
I have discovered that it is far easier to teach females to propel the fly than males. Females do not resort to brute strength and are much more limber. They also listen better than males and pay attention. There are some great female casters, and Joan Wulff was the best of both sexes for a spell – her accomplishments were not built on power (Ms. Wulff is still teaching, and her books are great). Usually it takes up to an hour to break down a male and get his attention. Starting out they use far more power than they ever need, and the speed they use is excessive. So, the first hour goes like this: “Slow down – slow down – are you deaf – slow down. God dammit, slow down. Less power – less power – have you got a seizure?” I do not know for certain why males behave this way – I think it might be the testosterone marinade that we males live in. However, when they slow down and go gently a big smile is usually our reward. “Wow I could feel that.” – is the refrain – meaning they felt the rod unload in their hand (a bent rod straightens and counter flexes and then straightens again – you will feel a slight kick in your hand – called unloading). The term casting is perhaps inappropriate. There is no follow through of the hand as when we throw a stone, and we stop the rod tip high – it is the rod tip that propels the line forward – the caster only bends the rod tip with his motion.
Gunnar and Stefán
Þorgerður doing the triangle exercise
Many ways to skin a cat
An old friend of mine Stefan B Hjaltested was a co-instructor, and we got along very well. He did teach differently than I do, but we both got the same results in the same amount of time. He did not use any technical terms – do this – no do not do that etc. – was his way. His approach is “teach them like they are children.” This only proves that there are many ways to skin a cat.
All in all, we taught for 30 hours and we hope that our students had as much fun as we had.
We also hope that all our students learned a lot and will diligently practice new tricks before their future fishing trips.
Pictures – Davíð Valdimarsson
Ready to go
Stefán keeping an eye on Gunnar – Guðbjörg doing fine
Stefán Gunnar Guðbjörg and Þorgerður working
Gubjörg bringing the rod tip too far back i.e. wristing
Gunnar and Stefán
Gunnar and Stefán now smiling
That’s where you stop – high
Hard work being an instructor
Rod tip down – no slack
Rod tip down – no slack
Jonas harping on those straight lines – Stefán takes a Buddhistic approach