The Complete Fly Fisherman – August-September 2019

continued on page 89

90 | AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2019 | TCFF

LAST CAST

T

here are various contenders for the greatest lie in the

world – the usual hot candidate being that the “cheque

is in the post”. Well, I have another suggestion, and

you will have heard it. It goes, “Your call is important

to us, so please stay on the line...” Rubbish! If both I and my

call were important, you would answer it immediately and not

tell me that I am 937th in the queue, and repeat that my call is

important, and having done that, pipe some poorly recorded

and even more badly performed muzak in my ear. No doubt

this aural assault is supposed to cool down my rising tide of

anger, but I have a very sensitive musical ear, and this makes

it even worse. But don’t worry, we are experiencing high call

volumes at present, we should get to you sometime in the next

decade.

By now, you will sense that I am having a go at call centres,

which I regard as one of the greatest evils of society. They are

nothing other than an excuse for and a means of delivering

shocking customer service, and that, dear reader, is what this

column is all about. What has this got to do with fly fishing?

Hold on, and all will be explained.

The story begins last year and was dealt with in my column

under the heading “Herman Jass Broke My Rod”. Well, he

didn’t really, but I thought it was a catchy title, and so I went

with it. As I explained, and mainly for the purposes of staying

out of trouble with the comely Mrs Jass who guards Herman as

a lioness her cubs, he didn’t really break my rod. It would have

broken anyway, no matter whose hands it was in, and this for

the reason that I did not seat the spigot joint, or ferrule, or what-

ever you call it, properly – so take heed. Don’t let this happen

to you.

The rod, as I explained in the piece, was one I had had in my

collection for nearly 25 years or possibly more – a 7’6” Orvis

4-wt, built in the full flex action. As things go, somehow the

rod found itself at the back of my rod cupboard where it

“languished” for probably close to 20 years or more, while I

used the more common 9ft 5-wt, and like most rods today, it

had a much faster tip action, something that I have bemoaned

in these pages from time to time. In any event, the little Orvis

was a gem and I could cast virtually as far with it as I wished, as

far as I could with the 9ft 5-wt. However, I have always believed

that Olympic-type casts are not really necessary. Rather, a cau-

tious approach and a little time spent watching and noting what

is happening are worth more than an extra 20ft on your cast.

This is certainly true of my home water which is a relatively

small river and so prodigious cast lengths are not required.

Storm Warning: Batten down the hatches as ANDREW LEVY is about

to have a rant about customer service.

Your

Important to us

Call is

Photo: Orvis