"...........I have been let down at the last minute and require a trained Championship quality gun dog....oh...and you of course.....for a very special shoot on a private Estate an hour away. I have told the Estate Keeper that I know just the person who can help.........."..............part of me already regretting where this conversation was taking me but neverthless.....the response I could clearly hear coming from my own mouth was ....."of course I will help although can I just check I heard correctly about the highly trained Championship quality gun dog piece...." ...............I recall clearly thinking there was something that had a rather challenging aspect to it with the statement rather different from the actuality.......however......
.......did I also detect a slight hesitation and perhaps regret from "R" when the plea for a loaned "dog" was voiced...the phrase "oh and you of course" didn't seem to flow quite as easily as the initial request for the dog....perhaps my imagination........I can scrub up well and know the protocols........I wonder where the Estate is........so.......despite my thoughts that this Saturday just gone would be time for me.......watch the rugby.......tinker around in the garage aka "workshop".......no-one around.......relax and do man type stuff in the man cave.......no......it was not to be......."Good Karma" it was that came into effect and the inbuilt reaction to help my neighbour out of a difficult situation.......
Sunrise on Saturday saw me already showered, shaved and dress. As it was, apparently a "very special shooting party", I chose a particularly nice shirt, a dark green fleece and some rather fetching tan coloured trousers......match this with my somewhat battered.......but very comfortable........long lace calf length Desert Boots........ah......if only those faded and now ripped boots could talk what a tale they could tell.........my old Barbour coat shaken out.......but still going strong after 25 years of abuse.......pockets checked......."priest" secreted in the poachers slip and now for the final piece....the hat....it promised to be.......a mild day with a chance of occasional rain so a lightweight Barbour "floppy" hat seemed the headgear of choice..........Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.............it was no-where to be found.........disaster..........one really has to have a hat........clock ticking.........sun now creeping above the horizon and showing the first orange glow to greet the day........old and also battered 4 litre Toyota Land Cruiser engine running.....dogs all loaded and secured in the back and ready.........the growls eching down the drive as they sought to establish pack dominance amongst them for the journey ahead.........but still no bl***y hat.................
I checked under the stairs......on the pegs.......in the conservatory.......down the back of the chair........no.......still no hat.......a last look revealed the substitute........an American style baseball cap with "HEMINGWAY KEY WEST and an embroidered Marlin.......hardly traditional but needs must........it would have to do........the clock was ticking and an hours drive ahead to the Estate. No more time........slightly unfortunate that I didn't recall the old boots looking quite as battle worn but the gaitors would cover the worst.......hopefully.......so.......with that settled.......off we all set.......dogs still growling at the rather early start to their day too but up the road we went toward the low sun now rising in the East............drat...........I have forgotten the sunglasses......
We arrived at what..........at that point..............was still the mystery Estate......one of those that only this country can host with a natural ease..........tucked away in the southern English countryside....large ancient country houses hidden away in the folds of the land and down long narrow lanes with high hedges to deter "prying eyes"................old stands of trees all..........seemingly.........immune........untouched........ by the passage of the years and the march of progress.........horses in paddocks and fields awaiting the start of their own day...........past villages with names long forgotten and........quite probably...........not even shown on Ordnance Survey although whether by accident or design one would never know............a landscape in some respects unremarkable but nevertheless quintessentially English...........this "Blessed Land".........this very heart of William Blake's Jerusalem or.........for those less historically minded or perhaps of a different generation..........think ITV and Downton Abbey.......certainly no arguing over car parking here or indeed worries over the spread of suburban development.......a contrast with my own daily experience in case you might wonder .........where I live.......happily I might add............ in a reasonable and modern house ........complete with Sky TV satellite dish.......... and no support staff to meet the family needs in the kitchen or garden.........but please..........no social commentary or hunting debate in this particular post.........it is intended solely as a "traditional and light hearted piece" as I hope the following might suggest..............
I eventually pulled off the road..........having navigated unmarked by-ways and roads but as I began to recognise the unique signs of a private Estate............I pulled up next to seven Range Rover Vogues.......all with the glass "blacked" out.........and all with that unique "Country Life" look.........parked ........almost abandoned..........somewhat haphazardly yet with a sense of rightful belonging near the Keeper's cottage...........I say "cottage" but this single word seems wrong in seeking to accurately describe.........perhaps "Keeper's House" is a better phrase .......crikey........where have I gone wrong...........beautiful and surrounded by woods and fields..............a delightful fellow came down the path to greet me...........very, very, very traditionally dressed in Tweed, "Tattershall", tie, "plus fours" and brogues..............by his heel the always attendant and obligatory mud splattered Spaniel............
"Good morning".........a firm handshake grabs my extended right hand..........."R" tells me that you have kindly volunteered to help us out for the day. Most kind. Very decent of you. Really grateful; sure you will enjoy the day. Are those the Champion dogs in the back ? They look fine. Superb looking. I am told they are excellent. We have some of the very best "guns" in the country with us today. I don't need any mistakes if you know what i mean and....oh......we do try to provide a traditional day if you get my drift......."...............My eyes followed his as they looked first at the baseball cap adorning my head......and then again slowly down as they took in the Desert Boots..................ooooops.....I should have put the gaitors on before I got out the Toyota.........oh well I thought...........the baseball cap will shield my eyes from the early morning sun and at least I have brought the bl***y dogs...............
"What can you tell me about the Estate before we begin", says I...."...and what should I call you ?"
"Everyone calls me "H". The Estate is about 12000 acres; a mix of arabel and woodland mixed pheasant and partidge really....oh.....long family tradition here though....been here generations......Fleming....you know them ?"
"What...Fleming as in Sir Ian....author.....James Bond....the original 007 ?" says I.
"Yes that right. The very same. Long tradition here of that sort of thing if you get my meaning". Well...are you ready. First drive in 15 minutes and I had better get these bl***y "beaters" sorted out ....follow me down and I will introduce you to the "Guns" .......
How kool thinks I. The Shooting Estate of the original James Bond.........Ha Ha ! What a hoot......"Shaken but not Stirred eh ?"
I followed his Land Rover as we careered far too quickly down mud tracks in and out of woodland until a grass clearing revealed itself between the lee slope off the woods.........the “guns” already in position........all dressed immaculately for the full day ahead..their hand tailored tweed attire probably exceeding the cost of both my house and my car..........I wondered who they were............that small group of influencial people who rarely make the media headlines but who, in reality, have quietly and without fuss shaped and run this “Blessed Land”, this “Albion”.........for generations. “H” had not volunteered the names and I knew sufficient not to ask.
..........I parked and opened the tailgate.......taking just the two dogs for the first drive......they both looked superb...........stunning Black Labradors in the peak of condition......
.....the early morning sun reflecting the muscle toned flanks..........well..........at least they looked the part even if I was......... apparently......... somewhat lacking.........at least in the hat department.......oh well......a quiet approach.......still now.......sit.......good boy .......whispered .........just wait..........I positioned myself just in front of the fence on the down-slope that bounded the woods some 20 metres behind the “guns”.......we awaited the inevitable approach from the woods to our front....in days gone by perhaps the excitement of the approachi.....ng hordes to clash in steel and saddle but now........in arguably more civilised times........the sticks and noise from the “beaters” working their way methodically to our front.....a much anticipated flight.......suddenly that noise.........bang........bang bang........bang bang.......bang.....bang bang....the smell of expended cartridges filling the crisp morning air......but soon the whistle to signal the first drive was over.....the “guns” sheathing their “Purdeys in their traditional leather slips and moving off toward the discreetly positioned Range Rovers that silently had received their own orders to move.........I waited........”my dogs” beginning to agitate in anticipation of their coming duty..........how would they perform..........with honour........with enthusiasm.........with grace and quiet efficiency ? Goodness but I hoped so................I knew they had “marked” the fallen but as I waited, another metaphor took shape........... A former life.........a memory of the Accountants coming down from the woods after the battle to kill the wounded from the Chairman of the Board........ah..........but so long ago........no matter..........back to more immediate concerns.....
“I think I might of winged one. Did you see it glide over that tree line ? a cultured and clipped voice shouted toward me. "Did you see it ?
“I have it marked” says I. “I will send one of the dogs to retrieve”.......I neatly avoided the “My Lord”.....It might be someone even more important.....
“Well done” says he as he turns shouldering his leather case that only moments before had been so casually lain on the ground. His brogues cut the turf through the still dew laden grass as he marched to re-join his party........my time thinks I.............I quietly slip the lead off of one of the two Labradors and point behind me toward the woods...........no hesitation..........a bounded leaping dog with nose to the ground effortlessly covers the distance and into the undergrowth and tree-line searching in that unique way that differentiates the breed...........the remaining “Lab” pulls at his lead..........but thank goodness thinks I as I note the Keeper looking through his field glass toward me.........more accurately toward the tree-line where “my dog” had so expertly gone to do his duty......I could sense his professional assessment..........he turned away ........seemingly satisfied .........and sheperd’s the “guns” ........with their minders...... into the massed blacked out 4x4........I say a silent prayer ..........and slip the lead off the second dog which then takes off as though possessed by the very Hound of Hell ...........Aaaaaarrrggghh..........Nooooooooooo............... well trained eh..........I dare not shout to reveal my incompetence...........can I risk a discreet single whistle.........Ha Ha Ha.........I fail to appreciate his muscles rippling ...........how strong...........how elegant he looks as he bounds in the opposite direction................Noooooooooo...........this is a mess...........an utter disaster saved only by the Range Rovers already cresting out of sight on the far hill..........thank goodness.........no-one saw...........a “saving grace”.............still........he will return.........I hope.........and I can collect the birds to front..........and at least the first dog was immaculate when the Keeper looked...........now...........where actually is the first dog.........oh bugger.........that one’s disappeared too............drat.............this is either going to be a very, very short or a very, very long day...........here am I in the ancestral home of 007.................bugger..........”shaken and stirred”.............it’s not even mid morning and I have “lost” two dogs.......Championship indeed !
So.......what on Earth is the point of this ? Well.......actually we had a great traditional day in a very traditional Estate. The English countryside at its very best and the home of James Bond; the original 007. The dogs did come back......of course.........they subsequently regained their composure and discipline.........as indeed did I..........It was a long day in the field and a tired Barbulus that eventually made his way back to his normal home some 12 hours later........the dogs were great........my old Barbour as faithful as the Labradors and my old Desert Boots now have trod the very same ground as another of my hero’s from a past. .........As for the baseball cap...........I accept it was more practical than traditional but therein of course is the very point of this tale. Last night as I still recovered with a single malt from the exertions of Saturday........an e.mail and accompanying photograph “drifted in” through the Ethernet.........it was from a very traditional fishing friend.........I shall call him “Q” to also protect his identity. .........He had........coincidentally......sent a picture of his latest creation.........a traditional hat with some new, hand crafted adornments and yes........for those who followed my post on the beautiful mahogany ferrule stoppers for my MkIV’s........the mystery individual who I shall tonight call “Q” is one and the same.........a stunning leaf and acorn hatband addition.......crafted from Redmire oak and a mix of Dremmel, Sanding Wheel and Diamond Burr attachments.......natural Spalted Beech and finished with Danish Oil........the Acorns beautifully made from oak with Spalted Beech “cups.
I hope you agree that this is a stunning adornment and a fitting tribute to fishing tradition and to the Autumn and also another famous traditional ancestral “home”...........it made me smile to think that the day before I had a baseball cap to “match” my old Barbour and a very traditional day in the English countryside........so.......
What Does Your Traditional Hat Look Like.........?
M
