It’s been nearly a year now since I first stepped up to the oche at Westward and attempted to propel my sinker into the great green yonder. Since then, I’ve managed to get back most months and, with a good bit of practice here and there, gradually forged my way from a best cast of 191 yards at my first event to a PB of 245 yards at my most recent one. The road to this point has had a few little twists and turns as I’ve messed around with different casts and, at times, neglected to practice in favour of fishing. On the whole, however, I’ve stuck with it, and as an improving caster, I have some bits and pieces to share that will hopefully be of use to anyone interested in taking up casting themselves.
The first thing to say is that casting needn’t be a costly pastime, at least not at the lower levels. I haven’t bought any mega high-end rods, the rod I’ve been using since March is a mate’s Harrison P2; the sort of thing you’d use for fishing the Bristol Channel and certainly not a full-on field launcher. The reels I’ve got are nothing special either, just two Abu 6500s and a 5500, all with cheap monomags, and I’m still using the same spools of line that I started with (the trick is to just replace the line that’s lost or damaged rather than the whole reelful). I think one thing that I’ve done right is to continue to learn with kit that is basic and user-friendly, and to concentrate more on trying to get the technique together. I’ve seen guys struggle with rods and reels that are too much for them and I’ve resisted the urge to tread that path myself.
Another realisation is that, to some extent, casters are stuck with the bodies that they have and what works for one will not necessarily work for another. I have spent a lot of practice hours trying to emulate what better casters are doing and just not been able to make their styles work for me. Whether this is because I haven’t got the same timing, or maybe because I have gangly chimpanzee-like arms, I can’t say for sure, but the fact is that I’ve tried to emulate a lot of the casts that I’ve seen other people using without much success. Ultimately, the only style that I’ve made real progress with is more or less the same cast as I started with, just with a few tweaks here and there. The positions and timing of ‘my’ cast are what are natural and comfortable for me. The gradual increase in yards seem to come from little adjustments to what I’m doing and even changes in how I’m thinking when I’m casting.
The third thing that I’ve found is that even when I feel like I’m casting pretty well, there’s a lot of variation in distance from cast-to-cast. At a recent event, my distances varied from just over 200 yards to a best cast of 237 yards. My second best casts were in the mid-220s. I’ve found that this is a really typical pattern, over a day where you might throw 25 casts or so, there will be one or two really outstanding ones that go way past the rest, there will be lots around the middle, and there will be a few runts that you’d rather forget about. Often those better casts that go absolutely sizzling off and land 10 yards clear of all the others will leave me shaking my head as I have no idea what I did differently and how to repeat it. Whether I managed to apply force to the lead at a better moment or whether it got picked out the sky and carried on further by an invisible flying monkey, I honestly couldn’t tell you. One thing I can tell you though is that something changes psychologically every time after a new personal best; there’s this new knowledge of what I am capable of doing and an unspoken demand on myself to exceed it.
Those are just a few observations about the practical side of casting, but there’s a couple of other things that I think are important to emphasise about the social aspect. Plenty of anglers talk about being interested in coming to casting events, but never do. Sometimes, some will admit to being worried about being watched and judged. This is a natural reaction to situations that put us under pressure, and I’ve definitely felt these kinds of jitters before when faced with other intimidating scenarios. The truth is, however, that I’ve never felt this sort of pressure when I’ve been casting. When I go up to cast I’m so focused on what I’m trying to do, it’s like the other casters might as well not even be there. Sure, people watch you when it’s your turn but it’s absolutely not like they are watching so that they can pick out something to criticise or make fun of. Throughout my first year, the only things people have ever said to me about my casting have been pieces of well-meant advice, and encouragement when I’m doing better. In other words, if you are a beginner, people will not be nasty to you or try to embarrass you when you mess up.
Another reason for some anglers’ reservations about going to casting events seems to be that they are troubled by the prospect of their casts being measured. My thoughts on this are that everyone has to start somewhere and it is worth having to eat any humble pie to start the process of improving - the benefits are too great to ignore. If you take up casting and begin adding yards, there will be a significant crossover effect to your fishing distances. This was certainly the case for me. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that I’ve enjoyed a fair bit of success at the upper end of my range this year, and have been able to chuck heavier leads and bigger baits further and easier than I ever could before. Of course, there is also the possibility that you may go to an event and surprise yourself at just how far you actually can cast. Either way, it’s all win-win.
The last thing I want to say is that there really is no substitute for seeing great casting in real life. You can watch all the Youtube videos going but I’ve yet to see one that really captures the sense of what massive casts look and sound like when they happen before your eyes. The second event I went to was a real eye-opener for me, being very well-attended and with quite a few big casters present. The power and precision of their casts and the sound of the air being literally torn apart as they sent their sinkers screaming down the field left a huge impression on me. I challenge anyone with even the slightest interest in casting to see it going down at that awe-inspiring level in front of them and not think, ‘I want to do that’.
The first thing to say is that casting needn’t be a costly pastime, at least not at the lower levels. I haven’t bought any mega high-end rods, the rod I’ve been using since March is a mate’s Harrison P2; the sort of thing you’d use for fishing the Bristol Channel and certainly not a full-on field launcher. The reels I’ve got are nothing special either, just two Abu 6500s and a 5500, all with cheap monomags, and I’m still using the same spools of line that I started with (the trick is to just replace the line that’s lost or damaged rather than the whole reelful). I think one thing that I’ve done right is to continue to learn with kit that is basic and user-friendly, and to concentrate more on trying to get the technique together. I’ve seen guys struggle with rods and reels that are too much for them and I’ve resisted the urge to tread that path myself.
Another realisation is that, to some extent, casters are stuck with the bodies that they have and what works for one will not necessarily work for another. I have spent a lot of practice hours trying to emulate what better casters are doing and just not been able to make their styles work for me. Whether this is because I haven’t got the same timing, or maybe because I have gangly chimpanzee-like arms, I can’t say for sure, but the fact is that I’ve tried to emulate a lot of the casts that I’ve seen other people using without much success. Ultimately, the only style that I’ve made real progress with is more or less the same cast as I started with, just with a few tweaks here and there. The positions and timing of ‘my’ cast are what are natural and comfortable for me. The gradual increase in yards seem to come from little adjustments to what I’m doing and even changes in how I’m thinking when I’m casting.
The third thing that I’ve found is that even when I feel like I’m casting pretty well, there’s a lot of variation in distance from cast-to-cast. At a recent event, my distances varied from just over 200 yards to a best cast of 237 yards. My second best casts were in the mid-220s. I’ve found that this is a really typical pattern, over a day where you might throw 25 casts or so, there will be one or two really outstanding ones that go way past the rest, there will be lots around the middle, and there will be a few runts that you’d rather forget about. Often those better casts that go absolutely sizzling off and land 10 yards clear of all the others will leave me shaking my head as I have no idea what I did differently and how to repeat it. Whether I managed to apply force to the lead at a better moment or whether it got picked out the sky and carried on further by an invisible flying monkey, I honestly couldn’t tell you. One thing I can tell you though is that something changes psychologically every time after a new personal best; there’s this new knowledge of what I am capable of doing and an unspoken demand on myself to exceed it.
Those are just a few observations about the practical side of casting, but there’s a couple of other things that I think are important to emphasise about the social aspect. Plenty of anglers talk about being interested in coming to casting events, but never do. Sometimes, some will admit to being worried about being watched and judged. This is a natural reaction to situations that put us under pressure, and I’ve definitely felt these kinds of jitters before when faced with other intimidating scenarios. The truth is, however, that I’ve never felt this sort of pressure when I’ve been casting. When I go up to cast I’m so focused on what I’m trying to do, it’s like the other casters might as well not even be there. Sure, people watch you when it’s your turn but it’s absolutely not like they are watching so that they can pick out something to criticise or make fun of. Throughout my first year, the only things people have ever said to me about my casting have been pieces of well-meant advice, and encouragement when I’m doing better. In other words, if you are a beginner, people will not be nasty to you or try to embarrass you when you mess up.
Another reason for some anglers’ reservations about going to casting events seems to be that they are troubled by the prospect of their casts being measured. My thoughts on this are that everyone has to start somewhere and it is worth having to eat any humble pie to start the process of improving - the benefits are too great to ignore. If you take up casting and begin adding yards, there will be a significant crossover effect to your fishing distances. This was certainly the case for me. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that I’ve enjoyed a fair bit of success at the upper end of my range this year, and have been able to chuck heavier leads and bigger baits further and easier than I ever could before. Of course, there is also the possibility that you may go to an event and surprise yourself at just how far you actually can cast. Either way, it’s all win-win.
The last thing I want to say is that there really is no substitute for seeing great casting in real life. You can watch all the Youtube videos going but I’ve yet to see one that really captures the sense of what massive casts look and sound like when they happen before your eyes. The second event I went to was a real eye-opener for me, being very well-attended and with quite a few big casters present. The power and precision of their casts and the sound of the air being literally torn apart as they sent their sinkers screaming down the field left a huge impression on me. I challenge anyone with even the slightest interest in casting to see it going down at that awe-inspiring level in front of them and not think, ‘I want to do that’.