In March 2022, the Club was saddened by the sudden passing of long-time member Phil Bush, whose energy and enthusiasm had enriched our gatherings for many years.
Phil was more than a familiar face on the water; he was a source of laughter, camaraderie, and quiet wisdom. He also served the Club with dedication as Treasurer for four years, from 2012 to 2014. Whether offering thoughtful advice, spinning a yarn that filled the room with smiles, or arriving with his trademark neatness and good humour, Phil embodied the spirit of friendship and generosity at the heart of our Club.
A devoted fly fisher, meticulous craftsman, and man of endless stories, Phil brought joy wherever he went. He had a gift for making people feel welcome, lifting spirits, and reminding us – with a grin – that life is best lived with care, curiosity, and a good laugh among mates. His presence on our trips, meetings, and social gatherings was always felt, and his absence is felt just as deeply.
Fishing, Friendship, and Phil: Memories from On and Off the Water
What follows is a personal tribute written by Dawn Hopkins, capturing the character, humour, and heart of a man we were all privileged to know.
During one of my terms as the Proud President of the Hastings Fly Fishers, I had the privilege of having Phil as my Treasurer for two years. His knowledge, support, and steady advice were invaluable. Moreover, he was a constant source of good humour and encouragement.
The Magnificent Seven in New Zealand
During that time, we embarked on our first overseas Club outing. We called ourselves “The Magnificent Seven” — Phil, his wife Narelle, Don, Alan, Alan’s wife Trish, Ron, and myself — flying across the ditch to New Zealand’s South Island in July 2014 to try our luck at catching some of their “bug fush.”
Early in the trip, Ron brought his Garmin GPS, and we took what looked like a shortcut. Mistake! It’s amazing what hire vehicles can handle when you really need them to; however, going off-road down a dry riverbed certainly wasn’t in the rental agreement. Ron insisted everything was under control, right up until we passed a local farmer on his tractor and saw the look on his face. From that moment onward, the tone for the entire trip was set — because we laughed. A lot.
Throughout the week, we fished through sleet and snow, we laughed, we fished, we played cards, we found every coffee shop we could, and we laughed again. We sipped wine, we fished some more… and the stories about “the big ones we missed” got bigger by the day. Naturally, we laughed even more.
Phil’s Impeccable Fishing Style
Anyone who knew Phil will remember him as the snappiest dressed fisher on the water. After each long day, most of us would peel off our boots and waders and abandon them on the outside table to deal with later. Not Phil. Instead, he wiped his down carefully and hung them near the fire to dry. Consequently, the next morning he was always crisp and dry, while the rest of us squelched our way into damp gear. Phil would just smile and say, “If you want your good gear to last, you’ve got to look after it.”
Return to the South Island
In 2016, Phil returned with us to New Zealand — same rivers, same fun — but now as part of a group of thirteen. As a result, the laughter doubled. On one of their days off, Phil, Peter, and Robin revisited a favourite river. It was Pete’s turn to fish. He tried for half an hour, changing flies every few casts, determined to tempt a stubborn fish. Meanwhile, Phil and Robin spent most of the time rolling around on the bank laughing. Eventually, Pete discovered why: his “fish” was actually a stick on the bottom of the riffle. You can imagine the noise around the dinner table that night as Phil retold the story, ensuring the laughter was as loud as possible.
TFO Tales
Several times a year the club hires a minibus and heads to Fishing Tackle Australia in Coffs Harbour for gear. I had been researching TFO fly rods, and Phil wandered over to check out what I was looking at. Not only did he explain the history of the rod, but he also told me about the people who started the company and how they named it. I was sold. I took the rod to the counter, only for Phil to follow me and put one beside it. Apparently, he had talked himself into buying it, because in explaining it to me he’d made it sound irresistible.
A Man of Many Tales and Talents
Phil loved to regale us with stories: his days in his accountancy firm, deep sea fishing, time spent fishing and sharing drinks at his holiday home in Thredbo, his years playing and refereeing rugby league, his cricketing days, ballroom dancing, collecting classic books and antiques, his overseas travels with his beautiful wife Narelle, his wonderful family, horse racing, and tying intricate flies. I was honoured to photocopy all 352 of his fly patterns, handwritten with a perfectly ordered index dating back to the 1980s; something I will always treasure.
Phil was also a keen gardener. He loved growing vegetables, but he had a real passion for bromeliads. When his parents passed away, he transplanted some of their broms into his own garden, and I added a few more to his collection. Just a few weeks before he passed, he told me proudly at our monthly meeting that his Portea petropolitana had produced several flower sprays over a metre high.
A Legacy of Warmth, Wit, Wisdom and Friendship
After Phil’s passing, more than 218 tributes appeared on Facebook, and many spoke of the same things we all knew and loved about him. Phil was deeply respected and warmly loved — by his family, his students, his peers, his mates, and everyone lucky enough to call him a friend.
A few comments stood out:
And one of my favourites:
Tight loops and bent rods, Phil.
