The Angler’s Coast, by Russell Chatham
Published by Clark City Press, 1990 $34.95 hardbound
Russell Chatham is God.
Okay, well maybe not God exactly; the state of perfection precludes character flaws, after all, and Chatham seems to have as many quirks and weaknesses as the rest of us. But dysfunctions aside – or even perhaps because of them – Chatham eloquently infuses his works with a solid sense of connectedness, of living fully in the world, of remaining wholly an individual at a time when conformity represents the surest path to a Gold Card. And, he’s a hell of a character, too!
All of which is no small feat, as we lesser mortals will attest.
Although The Angler’s Coast does not present Chatham’s voice at its fullest (pick up a copy of Dark Waters for a broader range of themes and styles), it has special significance for California fly fishers because it depicts an era in West Coast angling which, despite having been gone for only a couple of decades, is virtually unknown to a new generation of sportspersons. For once, the “good ol’ days” were exactly that.
Our fisheries have suffered tremendously, and Chatham’s essays, originally collected and published in 1976, let us know how much we’re missing. He writes about fly fishing for abundant stripers in San Francisco Bay, about catching hundreds of steelhead in the Russian River, about hitting an unexpected herring run (!!!) in Tomales Bay. Sure, you can still fish these places, but you’d better be satisfied more with the act of angling than with hook-ups. Chatham grimly observes that, “Compared with the river it was thirty years ago, today the Russian is essentially a biological desert” – a statement that holds true, of course, for a number of other waters as well.
In a way, 1hough, Chatham’s book is also one of opportunities. He gives ideas about new places to fish, methods and tackle to use, and species that we normally wouldn’t pursue, such as carp, rockfish or, again, the lowly herring. This utilitarian value alone makes The Angler’s Coast worthwhile reading for fly fishers intrigued with the range of angling options our state affords us. It has definitely gotten me off my derriere.
But perhaps more importantly, Chatham provides us with a strong rationale to get involved and save what’s left, restore what’s been lost. He has more than adequate reason to be pissed over the destruction of California’s fisheries, and frankly, so do we. Buy The Angler’s Coast. Savor its prose. Then roll up your sleeves and save a stream.
California Fishing, by Tom Stienstra
Published by Foghorn Press, 1992 $19.95 softbound
While not the ‘complete guide” that its cover claims, California Fishing weighs in with 768 pages covering 870 lakes, 185 streams, and the length of the California coast. The emphasis, obviously, is on stillwater angling – and on angling for stocked trout (approximately 80 percent of the inland waters described are planted with hatchery fish). These are only negatives if you confine your endeavors to stream fishing for wild trout. Otherwise, Stienstra’s writing is both descriptive and engaging, and there’s plenty in his book that will interest the peripatetic fly fisher.
Traveling Light, by Bill Barich
Published by Vikinll Penguin, 1985 $8.95 softbound
Perhaps the reason why Bill Barich’s writing isn’t better known among fly fishers is because his work is published primarily in the New Yorker rather than in angling magazines. Also, perhaps, because his fishing essays are few and far between; I’ve only come across five so far, and three of these ari collected in his fine book, Traveling Light.
(The other two pieces arc in David Scybold’s Seasons of the Angler, and Leonard Wright’s The Fly Fisher’s Reader. Both anthologies arc excellent and available softbound.)
Barich strikes me as being a writer who angles, rather than an angler who writes. This is an important distinction, not so much because writing as a vocation helps guarantee quality prose, but because a writer, if a generalist as Barich is, will view sport – or any endeavor, really – as a means to illuminate our lives and the world around us. It’s appropriate that Traveling Light includes essays on searching London for the perfect pub, spending a summer in the Tuscan countryside, horse racing at Golden Gate Fields – along with baitfishing for steelhead on the Russian River and fly fishing for Dolly Varden on the McCloud. Wandering and wondering are two aspects that tranform angling into such a fulfilling pastime; Barich approaches his musings with wit, a sharp eye for detail, and a quiet, unpretentious curiosity that makes turning each page a sheer delight.