For most anglers, fly fishing means being alone together.
It is an oxymoron. But it is certainly something that anyone who fishes understands. Fly fishing is all about solitude, but it is a solitude that we often love to share with others.
Why does this matter? Because relationships matter. People matter a whole lot more than fly fishing. And fly fishing can be an excellent point of contact for people. Sharing the solitude gives the pursuit much more value than it possesses on its own.
Not to overanalyze what ought to be natural, but how do you pursue fish and people simultaneously? How do you pay attention to someone else and pay attention to your drift? To be very pragmatic; how do you cast next to someone else who is casting?
There are some settings where it is possible to fish a few yards from each other and not compromise your angling efforts. Heavy spinner falls, salmon runs, or amidst the crashing waves on the beach: these situations allow for conversation and fishing in equal measure. If you are sharing a drift boat, then this dynamic is automatically part of the experience. Proximity usually means a running dialogue punctuated by hook sets or attempts to convince the other person to move to a new spot.
It is completely within the rules of fly fishing to stop, sit, and rest while on the water. Taking breaks allows you to perform the essential tasks of observation and rest. Or, there could be a conversation. Streamside chats could be purely about tactics, or they could go deeper. There is something disarming about being in nature that facilitates genuine discussion, even among the most hardened of individuals. Fishing is about more than catching fish. We all know that. Enjoying the scenery and the company doesn’t compromise what you’re there for. If anything, it enhances it.
Realistically, most of us don’t live on the water. A shared ride to the river may the only times you see your “fishing buddy” during the whole day. It can also be real, captive, quality time. I’ve had good conversations that began on the drive up, rattled around in my head while fishing, and then continued as soon as we hopped in the car and headed home. A legitimate restaurant stop can accomplish the same thing.
Taking the conversation outside of the stream, literally and figuratively, is also helpful. Have your fly fishing friends and their spouses over for dinner. Explore how you have similarities and differences in politics, religion, and other areas of life that have very little to do with fly rod choice. Taking a friendship past the superficial will only lead to more robust, well-rounded fishing trips. Days when the trout aren’t cooperating or the stripers aren’t where they’re supposed to be will be a little better. You won’t be enduring those days alone.
We’re not meant to endure anything alone, be it bad fishing or life’s hard times. Similarly, we’ve been given an opportunity to celebrate the simple and the grand with each other. But it is okay to do it quietly; to enjoy solitude together.
This is an updated and streamlined version of an article from February of 2018 called Alone Together: Relationships Through Fly Fishing. Revisiting older articles allows me to tweak things based upon how I write, and how I see things, these days.