I contemplated long and hard exactly what topic to tackle this month. Then it came to me: or rather the deluges of rain, a wind that ripped the blossoms from the trees, and the delicate wafers of snow - yes snow - that pirouetted from the skies more or less suggested it. 'It' is roll casting.
How often (now let's be honest here) do we consider a roll cast as something other than just precursor to another cast in our casting repertoire? And yet there it is, the only cast (as far as I am aware) that we can actually stop, at any point, and check to see if we are doing the thing right. The only cast (as far as I am aware) that does not need very much line behind the rod to fully load the rod. Certainly, the only cast that will form the basis of Spey casting. Come to think of it, the roll cast is also the only cast that I know that will tackle those horrid trout. You know, the ones that stubbornly sit under tree branches, under bridges and other canopies. They smugly smirk at our futile attempts at reaching them with our flies. Attempts of either emulating a fruit bat, by hanging from a branch poking our rod and line uselessly through the foliage down to the water, or festooning the neighborhood with our painstakingly crafted bits of fur and feather with well directed casts into the trees.
Nope. Learn to roll cast. It's far easier.
The glorious thing about a roll cast is that just about anyone can do it. All you need to do is waggle some line onto the water (technical term), and push the rod tip over to your downwind side to steer the line away from the body. Then ease the rod tip back so that the line follows: if it's windy (blowing from behind) or you adopt Lefty's style just jab the rod tip back to position the fly line. Anyway you can, position the line behind the rod. But leave some on the water too because the water surface is your launch pad. You cannot make a roll cast without some line adhering to the water. This adherence is what the aerialized line and rod will generate energy from.
You will know when you are ready to make that forward movement. With the rod and line positioned to your side (as you look) the whole affair will look a bit like, a slightly tilted capital letter 'D' - the rod being the upright the line being the curve and the line on the water a long tail.
Your hand position at this point should be about in line with the corner of your eye.
Now all you have to do is hammer a nail into a wall opposite with your rod tip (metaphorically speaking!). The forward movement needs a bit of firm tap, often firmer than you might imagine. You will then find the loop (the tilting 'D') will pitch forwards, roll and carry the line resting on the surface with it. Job done.
Executed properly, the whole cast is created mostly in front and in the air. There is popular misconception here that the roll cast does just that: roll along the water surface. Not so.
For a high roll aim the tip high. For a low roll: aim the tip lower. Simple. Remember if it goes wrong: stop! Check the hand position, the rod angle and line curve - form that tilting 'D' and try again. Remember: if you aim the cast at the surface that's where it will end up - prematurely!
It is, of all the casts, one of the most therapeutic. If you have had a bad day, a row or your best dog has eaten your favorite rod (this has happened!), get the rod out and make a few really firm forward roll casts. You might not catch any fish, but you'll feel a whole lot better.
The roll cast is also a lovely introduction to how a rod and line behaves for newcomers - and the very young especially.
Which brings me back to wind, snow and horizontal rain. There I was, on one of our larger lakes wearing line and leader rather like a somber bedecked Christmas tree. I was not in the best of moods. The wind was making a total nonsense of using my conventional still water leader of twenty plus feet - yes I did indeed type 'Twenty +' -- the whole episode was, well, ridiculous. But the fish were there: you just knew it. So then I thought: "Roll cast!"
So I did just that. Waggled some line on to the surface, made one roll cast to straighten the whole leader set up, another to get into the belly of the line one lift, a quick overhead cast and out and fishing. Job done. And, I am glad to say, the odd fish was caught and played from a seemingly hopeless position.
I must tell you about shovel casts: perhaps that should wait till next month. May your loops be ever tight and wind knots few!
(by Charles Jardine of Wales for the FFF ClubWire Email NewsWire)