Chap­ter VI – The Com­pleat Angler con­tin­ues with a thought­ful dis­cus­sion on the grayling, also known as the umber. This fish, often debat­ed over in terms of clas­si­fi­ca­tion, is close­ly com­pared to trout for its val­ue and ele­gance in the water. Some believe the umber and grayling are sep­a­rate species, much like the her­ring dif­fers from the pilchard. Pis­ca­tor leans toward con­sid­er­ing them as one, large­ly because of their shared char­ac­ter­is­tics and praise from nat­u­ral­ists. The admi­ra­tion for this fish spans sev­er­al coun­tries, par­tic­u­lar­ly in Italy and Switzer­land, where its fla­vor is held in high regard. The grayling reach­es peak fla­vor in May, mak­ing it a sea­son­al del­i­ca­cy that anglers and chefs alike eager­ly await.

French folk­lore adds a lay­er of fas­ci­na­tion by claim­ing that graylings feed on gold, an idea sparked by gold­en par­ti­cles found in the stom­achs of some caught in the Loire. Though clear­ly mytho­log­i­cal, this tale illus­trates the rev­er­ence sur­round­ing the fish. Pis­ca­tor even spec­u­lates that the grayling’s diet of herbs like water thyme may con­tribute to its faint­ly flo­ral aro­ma, liken­ing it to the scent of vio­lets. This asso­ci­a­tion adds a lay­er of sen­so­ry appre­ci­a­tion to the catch, ele­vat­ing the expe­ri­ence beyond sim­ple sport. Some ancient texts even sug­gest med­i­c­i­nal prop­er­ties, like using the fish’s fat mixed with hon­ey to treat eye conditions—a rem­e­dy attrib­uted to Ges­ner. Such claims under­score the deep inter­con­nec­tion between angling, tra­di­tion, and nat­ur­al reme­dies.

The name “Umber” is believed to come from the fish’s quick, dart­ing motion, a fea­ture that makes it elu­sive in swift rivers. The grayling’s abil­i­ty to move with near-invis­i­ble speed enhances its mys­tique and makes cap­tur­ing one espe­cial­ly sat­is­fy­ing. Pis­ca­tor express­es per­son­al fond­ness for the grayling’s fla­vor and fra­grance, liken­ing it to a flo­ral bloom—thus call­ing it the “flower-fish.” This poet­ic com­par­i­son echoes St. Ambrose’s praise and illus­trates the kind of beau­ty that can be found in the small­est of riv­er crea­tures. Far more than a culi­nary prize, the grayling stands as a sym­bol of nat­ur­al grace and the sub­tle plea­sures of the angler’s art.

The dis­cus­sion touch­es briefly on eccle­si­as­ti­cal and schol­ar­ly ref­er­ences, blend­ing the­ol­o­gy and biol­o­gy to frame the grayling’s role in his­to­ry. Walton’s approach reflects a deep respect for both the sci­ence of fish­ing and the sto­ries that shape it. Whether viewed through the lens of folk­lore or stud­ied for its phys­i­cal traits, the grayling occu­pies a cher­ished place in fresh­wa­ter lore. This con­ver­gence of myth and obser­va­tion encour­ages anglers to see more than just the catch—it becomes an invi­ta­tion to appre­ci­ate the water’s hid­den rich­ness. Every riv­er bend may hold not just sport, but a sto­ry.

Beyond the lit­er­ary admi­ra­tion, the chap­ter offers valu­able advice for those hop­ing to catch a grayling. Pis­ca­tor notes that light tack­le and sub­tle pre­sen­ta­tion are key, as grayling are sen­si­tive to noise and dis­tur­bance. Clear, cold rivers are their nat­ur­al habi­tat, where they feed gen­tly on insects and small lar­vae. Best caught dur­ing day­light, they rise grace­ful­ly for sur­face insects, mak­ing dry-fly fish­ing par­tic­u­lar­ly effec­tive in spring and ear­ly sum­mer. Patience, silence, and a care­ful hand reward the angler with a fish that is not only edi­ble but ele­gant in its behav­ior.

The grace­ful­ness of the grayling’s rise and the shim­mer of its dor­sal fin often evoke a painter’s palette in motion. Its strik­ing colors—a soft blend of greens, sil­vers, and lavenders—seem drawn from the riv­er itself. Unlike some fish that are admired main­ly for their size or fight, graylings win affec­tion through their beau­ty and finesse. A well-pre­pared grayling dish reflects this same sense of refine­ment. It doesn’t over­pow­er the plate but delights those who appre­ci­ate sub­tle fla­vors, espe­cial­ly when paired with fresh herbs and light wine sauces. For many, the culi­nary sat­is­fac­tion com­pletes the cycle of pur­suit, patience, and reward.

In bring­ing togeth­er folk­lore, sci­ence, and angling tech­nique, this chap­ter becomes more than an instruc­tion­al guide. It trans­forms the reader’s per­cep­tion of the grayling into some­thing almost sacred. To catch one is to par­tic­i­pate in a tra­di­tion that hon­ors nature’s com­plex­i­ty and poet­ry. And in doing so, the angler becomes not just a fish­er­man, but a stew­ard of the qui­et mys­ter­ies that live beneath the water’s sur­face.