Jerry and Russ were expert fly fishermen. They lived and breathed it. They did not merely own the expensive gear, they used it frequently. They were encyclopedias of fly fishing methods, entomology (the study of insects), equipment, casting, knot-tying, and fly fishing ethics. They had learned how to actually think like trout. They were trout whisperers. They tied their own flies and built their own rods. They had specialized equipment for every possible fishing scenario.

Jerry also was a respected pastor and leader. He was “semi-retired”, which meant that he “stopped doing the things I don’t like doing and I focused on doing the things I enjoyed doing”. He was an outstanding speaker, writer, teacher, and counselor. He was on staff at the same church as me. I sought him out for wisdom and mentoring as often as possible.

One day I was telling Jerry that I used to do some fly fishing. I think he was looking for another fishing partner. I was looking for an excuse to spend more time with him. To my surprise, he invited me to go fly fishing with him and Russ. They coaxed me into buying a good rod, a decent reel, three types of line, boots, waders, and a pontoon boat. This was a bigger financial investment than I had expected.

My first outing was with them was to a secret gem hidden in the Okanogan Mountains of North Eastern Washington. We arrived at the lake around midnight. After sleeping in the back of our pickup trucks, we thawed out around a campfire, gulping down cowboy coffee and a hearty breakfast cooked on a Coleman stove while gearing up our lines.

There were about ten other people fishing the lake that morning. It was cold, quiet, and beautiful. During breakfast, Russ and Jerry discussed a couple of theories as to what fly was going to work this day, based on their vast experience. I made sure that I had a couple of each of the deadly flies that they mentioned.

Fishing was slow that morning. A bump here. A lost fish there. I yawned sleepily as I paddled slowly along the shoreline. The sun peaked over the mountains and began to move the thermostat into the 40’s. After 90 minutes of fishing, I switched to a fly designed to look like a black leech. This fly was a modification of the classic Wolly Bugger and is nicknamed “Hale-Bopp”. I let my sinking line carry the fly down deep and slowly paddled my feet in the water creating a slow troll away from the shoreline. I watched a majestic bald eagle successfully land a small fish of his own not far from where I was.

Deep in the cold water, near the weedy bottom of the depths, a curious trout noticed my fly cruising by. Its hunger triggered an instinctive response and it sprang into action. Gulp! My pole began to shake and my line started running out as it grabbed my deep water fly and began to run with it. This jarred me awake as I gleefully began to battle the fish. I applied gentle pressure to the spool in order to create a little more drag as my reel buzzed and the line was carried out. 100 feet from my boat the fish burst from the glassy surface of the lake and showed its thick strong body of silver and rainbow colors. I frantically reeled the line in as the fish swam towards my boat. Suddenly he turned abruptly and the line started pulling out again. He jumped again, shaking his head while trying to loosen the fly from his mouth. I worked hard to apply steady but gentle pressure on the line. With barbless hooks, a little slack and the hook could slide right out. Too much pressure and the tippet line would break.

One of the more difficult skills of fly fishing is landing the fish. In a pontoon boat, even if you tire out a fish and reel it close, holding your rod in the correct position while netting the fish is a skill that cannot be taught without actual practice. I reeled my line all the way to my leader. My pole was longer than my arm, so I tried to bring my pole overhead enough to reach the fish with the net. After “missing it” a couple of times the fish gracious tired out, laid on its side, and let me scoop it up. I felt like a pro. I hadn’t seen anyone catch a fish like this one, all day. It was a good 18 inches. Maybe even 20. No one will ever know for sure – we were fishing “catch and release” and I swear it definitely was 20 inches long.

I had found the secret fly that was going to work that day! So what did I do? Like a good friend I yelled across the lake “Black leech!!!”. They needed to know what was working! I thought they would excitedly change their fly to what I was using. Instead, they scowled back at me, looking very displeased. Russ rolled his eyes. Jerry shook his head in dismay. They would not even smile over my catch. I was confused by their lack of enthusiasm.

That fly continued to work well for me. I caught a few more fish before lunch. After taking my fins off, and pulling the boat up the shore, I swaggered my way to our camp. I was puzzled to discover they were still in a sour mood. Russ confronted me immediately: “Matt, you don’t ever, under any circumstances, announce to the entire lake the secret of what is working! Black leech!?” He rolled his eyes. Jerry shook his head back and forth.

This is an unwritten but understood ethic of true fly fishermen. Share your secrets with your close friends, but no one else. I guess this is what Jesus meant when he said, “Don’t cast your pearls before swine.” (Matthew 7:6). I have learned that there are many such rules when it comes to the outdoors. There are secrets. Secret hikes, secret trees, secret beaches, secret surf spots, and secret fishing holes. Don’t go blabbing your mouth about secrets. There are unwritten rules prohibiting talking about these places, publishing information about these places, talking to media about these places, and God forbid that you would ever post on social media about these places. If you make any of these mistakes, there is a community that will hold you accountable.

From that day forward, whispering “Black leech!”, became a joke among us, followed by uproarious laughter. Russ and Jerry never let me live this down. You can be certain I never made that mistake again.

Innocent and not so innocent mistakes are necessary in order to learn and grow. Our mistakes are our best teachers. Do not feel shame when you make one. Instead, learn from your mistakes and move on. Perhaps one day you will understand and be able to laugh about it. If you learn from your mistakes you can be sure of this: You will be more successful.

Proverbs 27:5-6
An open rebuke
is better than hidden love!
Wounds from a sincere friend
are better than many kisses from an enemy.

• When have you made an innocent mistake and faced correction?
• What makes it difficult to receive correction?
• When is appropriate to give correction, and when is it better to keep things to yourself?