Anglers Journal

Up in the Attic

A thin man with wispy white hair beckons me from the top of the steep attic stairs. “I’m up here,” Bill Beattie shouts. A Portuguese waterdog named Cruz barks his welcome. I feel as if I’m climbing out of the hold of an old sardine carrier and onto a bright deck. Or ascending into the crow’s nest of a square-rigger.

I stare for a moment as light streams in from seven skylights and two windows at the east and west ends of the attic. Hanging from the ceiling and rafters and nailed to the walls is a collection of rods and reels, lures, paintings, photographs, ship models and other ephemera.

Part museum, part tackle shop, part nautical antique collection, the attic is the magnum opus of a lifelong fisherman who saved everything and collected even more. I’ve never seen anything quite like it in one place. “All these things have meaning,” says Beattie, a former commercial rod-and-reel fisherman who also fished light tackle when he wasn’t catching for the market. “The rods, the reels,

Вы читаете отрывок, зарегистрируйтесь, чтобы читать полное издание.

Другое от: Anglers Journal

Anglers Journal2 мин. чтения
My Boat My Life
For Kendall Osborne, the skinny waters and back bays of Virginia’s Atlantic seaside — home to one of the northernmost tarpon fisheries in the country — are a fly-fishing heaven. “I love the challenge of that fishery, and the scenery and solitude. It’
Anglers Journal3 мин. чтения
The Armchair Angler
Back Seat with FishBy Henry HughesSkyhorse Publishing While it’s not sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll, Henry Hughes’ memoir rejoices in the indulgences of a life full of love, literature and fishing. No one sucks the marrow quite like Hughes. Beginning w
Anglers Journal3 мин. чтения
Fish Of Countless Casts
I have misspent the last 32 years of my life in pursuit of Atlantic salmon. I have very little to show for it. A dented Subaru; a singular collection of double-handed rods; enough fly lines to stretch from Doaktown, New Brunswick, to Cascapédia, Québ