Fly Girl’s Blog -
I live in a country where something like a quarter of the residents likes to wet a line. A significant proportion of those are, apparently, women. There isn’t research data about what kind, how often, where or how much, but I suspect the vast majority like bait or lure fishing salt water, or trolling behind a boat. My assumptions are drawn from my own (extremely anecdotal) research based on women I’ve encountered on rivers or lakes, at clubs, on websites, reading the “Personal Interests / Hobbies” sections on job applications (not creepy, part of my job), Facebook etc. And of course, the My Family car stickers.
The makers of My Family car stickers have created a “Fishing Mum” sticker. It doesn’t distinguish between fly or spin, it’s just an image of a smiley lady in boots, holding a rod in one hand and a dangling fish from the other. You’d think given the proportion of the female population who claim to fish that you would see this image reasonably often when driving out and about, stuck in traffic. But I have calculated a ratio of one to 200 of the “Shopping Mum” stickers. So where are the fishing women?
Now I understand that a woman who fishes will also shop (whereas the converse is not necessarily the case), but surely a woman who has made the decision to broadcast to her fellow commuters who she is and how she spends her time, would rather identify with a pastime that engages her with the world, challenges her natural born instincts and brings back something to the table? Oh wait – that’s shopping…
So I can only conclude two things about the women who have said they like to fish as a pastime: 1) while they will do whatever it takes to spend some quality time with their partner/children – even if it involves spending an afternoon sitting uncomfortably in a damp dinghy dunking bait for snapper – they do not identify themselves as fishers; or 2) women who fish do not feel the urge to spend money on stickers announcing the fact. I fall into the second category.
So what of the rest of my “research”? I did for a brief time hold membership with a local fly fishing club in hopes of meeting a female fishing buddy. I thought it would be cool to ring up a gal pal, plan a trip and instead of gossiping about celebs and moaning about husbands over a coffee, do it over a river instead. Kind of like a far less politically motivated Thelma and Louise with waders. The club yielded two women, both in their sixties. They were extremely friendly, but in a motherly sort of way. The rest of the members were so fanatically competitive that I let my membership lapse after a year.
I have never met another woman fishing when I’ve been out, and while there are legions of women’s clubs and websites and blogs in the US and UK, there are not in this country. It would seem that the NZ fly fishing lady is as shy and reclusive as her quarry. But I know they’re out there…
Like all rare and elusive creatures, the mystery that shrouds the NZ fly fishing lady makes the discovery all the more richer and rewarding. Bravo to her that she quietly goes about her business, no fuss no favours, doing it because she loves it, not for the fanfare. She’ll be slipping into fishing shops, buying licenses and driving to her favourite haunts with exactly the same motivations as her male counterpart – to catch a fish, to clear her mind, to be somewhere beautiful, to focus and to experience, to exercise her skill and to connect with nature. What gender she was born is a matter of complete and utter indifference. She was born to fish. She doesn’t need a sticker to prove it.
Fly Girl
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