Chapter XII: 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.

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.

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.

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.

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