The first time I met Ted, I was fishing a pool on the Main Southwest Miramichi and when I saw him coming through the reeds, I finsished working the pool and sat down for lesson in casting. I had watched Ted from the other side of the river many times and he was a vision with a fly rod which few could equal.

He said that I needn't stop on his account. I replied that I was a beginner and would like to watch him work the pool in order to try pick up some of the technique to improve my casting. He said he had been watching me while coming down the trail and figured that might be a good idea. Yeah, it hurt a little, but it was the truth.

He went back up the bank to make his way to the head of the pool and fell on the slippery trail. Yes, he could hit and, yes, he could cast a fly, but, man oh man, could he swear. He issued forth profanity which was akin to poetic for nearly a whole minute and never once repeated himself. By the end of the day I was casting, and swearing, much better.