Preserving skin
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It was Pres Mole who suggested some time ago to put this information on my website so here it goes.
It
was ‘Bluey’ Powell in the Complete Angler Tackle Shop in Melbourne
which planted the “flyfishing idea” into my head first, the year was
1970 and I remember vaguely having bought one of those new but awful soft
hollow fibreglass fly-rods and gone on Sunday morning to some water hole
called Ringwood Lake for casting practice under Bluey’s instruction.
Not
long after that I was transferred from Melbourne to Sale, a small three
horse and two dogs, country town in Victoria to work on Bass Straights Oil
Platforms. Yes there was the ’70-mile beach’ or was it 90-miles,
offering excellent surf fishing for anything from Shark to Stingray to
Kingfish to Flathead. But there was also the Macalister River and its
contributories, with just one specie – Trout.
And
it was trout fishing I was drawn to most of the time.
By
chance I met this “old timer”, who’s first name I have forgotten
–shame on me, but his last name, not that it has any relevance to this
story was McDonald. NO not the one who had the farm, or the one who sells
fatty food.
In
many ways I was really lucky meeting Mr McDonalds because he was one of
the nice old gentleman who willingly part with their knowledge and train
some young upcoming Rookie or Freshman or Greenling. Whatever pigeonholing
you might put on me, it was me, a Disciple of the Grand University of
fly-fishing, and that was 35 years and a million casts ago – yesterday.
I still feel like a Rookie, Freshman or Greenling and I am still in awe
when I am in that Grand University of fly-fishing. Well, unless you NEVER
‘blank out’ (come home with an empty bag), and I in spite of
everything, sometimes do, you still got something to learn.
As
so often, I divert – if only slightly. With the help off or maybe under
the influence off Mr McDonald I quickly discovered that tying my own flies
was the way to go. Maybe because I am a tight ass and didn’t want to
spend the money buying flies or I didn’t want to catch trout with
somebody else’s flies or I felt confident at my dexterity. But whatever
the reason, I was determined to tie my own flies.
Let’s
go with the ‘tight ass’ scenario, it is probably 50% of the reason and
I feel quite comfortable with it.
Well,
to tie your own flies you need fly tying stuff and living in a country
town, there is one thing people had which I needed lots of – roster
capes.
Whenever
I heard the old chock crow, I used to go in and ask the owner if they had
an old preferably speckled rooster who was past it – whatever roosters
supposed to do, other then shouting profanities at an ungodly hour and
they now didn’t do no more. Picture
#1 & #1a
I
would offer to put an end to the roosters advertising prowess, de-feather
and clean the bird and
prepare him for the pot and return him to the owner to eat, in exchange
for the cape.
The
idea was that I could cut their neck off without damaging the cape
feathers. Mind you the fowl couldn’t care less about the niceties of the
execution. Picture #2 No rooster
was safe from me, not even the little bantams.
I
found much to my delight, that nobody wanted their old cock back which
meant I also could take his saddle Picture #3.
The owners were mostly glad to get rid of the thing although sometimes
with sentimental overtures which I could not share.
So we would boil the beast and let it simmer for a day or so in a big pot adding veggies, onion, spices, chicken stock and a big piece of Jarrah Wood and then, when the Jarrah Wood was soft, we would take the rooster out give it to the dog for burial and we would eat the Jarrah Wood and the veggies. (Got ye).
The older the rooster, the stiffer his feathers and the stiffer the feathers the stiffer the hackles, and the stiffer the hackles, the cockier the flies will sit on the water and that is good.
Now
we finally getting somewhere.
The
oldest method to preserve food is to salt it. Think back a few thousand
years ago when fish and meat were covered in salt and dried to preserve
it.
Salt preserves
foods by creating a hostile environment for certain micro-organisms and
inhibits bacterial growth and subsequent spoilage.
It
wasn’t anything I invented, civilisations before me discovered that
salted fish and meat made long-range explorations possible in the age of
sailing ships and ages before that.
So
the recipe is simple, take skin, just add salt.
So my rooster necks were stretched out on a piece of ply wood, chipboard or simular and nailed or stapled onto it. Just stretch the skin enough, so that air can freely get to it, rub copious amounts of salt on it – mums kitchen salt is fine (and cheap) and keep it out of the sun. The only other important factor is put it somewhere where rats or mice can’t get to it, they’re always desperate enough to try anything. As we already discovered, flies – that’s the once who go Bzzzzzz will not harm the hide. Leave the skin at least for a week or so in summer and maybe two in winter, until it is nicely dried out and until it feels hard. Brush off the salt with a medium hard brush, remove nails or staples, trim edges if necessary – voila!- you are now a certified taxidermist.
Picture #2 & #3 shows actual capes/saddles from that time which have survived numerous clean-outs and are 35 years old and still useful and are still being used from time to time.
Nowadays I salt possum fur/tails or wallaby skin
from the odd (fresh) road kill and it will do just nicely. Picture
#4
If you want to cut up a cape or fur, it is best done with a sharp knife or scalpel.
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There are three kinds of men: The ones that learn by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence and find out for themselves. |
If you would like to contact me for comments or contributions click here: thetroutwhisperer@bigpond.com