The fishing world lost one of its giants on March 14 when Lefty Kreh passed away at his Maryland home. He was 93.

For years, I’d heard stories about Kreh, one of the world’s foremost authorities on both freshwater and saltwater fly fishing. Kreh was a TV personality and writer, and often presented seminars on fly casting or fishing tips.

In 2010, I finally got to meet the man, and learned that everything I’d heard was accurate: Lefty was friendly, funny, blunt, and amazingly knowledgeable.

On that March day, Kreh was holding court at L.L. Bean in Freeport as part of the company’s spring fishing celebration.

And for an hour or so, as I recall, he sat at a table, told stories, and held a crowd speechless as he demonstrated how to tie knots.

That’s right. Us fishing nerds giddily sat there and watched as the master tied knots.

At the time, I described the experience like this: “Lining up to watch Lefty Kreh tie knots is the rough of equivalent of lining up to watch Yo-Yo Ma tune his cello: If you’re a member of each performer’s target audience, there’s probably nothing else that seems to make more perfect sense.”

Now, eight years later, I stand by that description. The man was a master of his craft, and a master with people.

I remember him telling the audience that outdoor writers — he was a member of that club, remember — were among the most foolhardy of folks, and many of them believe they are smarter than they really are.

And I remember reaching the front of the line for him to sign my copy of his new book, “Casting with Lefty Kreh,” and admitting that I was also a member of the club he described, though I thought I knew how smart I wasn’t.

He laughed, then shared stories — none fit for publication — about his interactions with baseball legend Ted Williams and former BDN executive sports editor Bud Leavitt.

A few months later, I received more wisdom from Lefty, albeit once removed.

While spending a day in a drift boat with Bill Pierce, formerly with the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, and now the executive director of the Rangeley Outdoor Sporting Heritage Museum, Pierce shared some wisdom he’d gleaned from the great man during another fishing outing.

“Keep your elbow on the shelf,” Pierce told me that day, referring to a fly-casting motion that I should have already perfected, but honestly had never even heard described. “That’s what Lefty told me: Keep your elbow on the shelf.”

Even once removed, the man’s lessons resonate: My casting instantly improved, and to this day, when I begin struggling with my casting motion, I hear Pierce channeling Kreh, and the flaws seem to melt away.

Many knew Kreh better, and had many more dealings with him than I did. But just that one brief interaction was enough to teach me that the stories I’d heard were accurate. Lefty Kreh knew what he was talking about. And he’ll be missed.

What’s your opening-day plan?

Come April 1 — the traditional opening day of open water fishing season in Maine — the state’s “April fools” head off into the woods, looking for flowing water in which to wet a line for the first time after a long, cold winter.

This year, there’s a slight complication: Yes, April 1 is on a Sunday, so most of us will be off from work and able to fish. But opening day also falls on Easter, so it’s hard to predict what kind of crowds will head to some of the tried-and-true venues.

So tell me: What’s your plan? Are you heading afield, Easter or not? Are you planning your trip to the water so that you can still be back for a nice ham dinner? Or are you sitting this year’s opener out completely?

If you’ve given this any thought and would like to share some thoughts on your internal struggle, please reach out to me at the email address below for possible inclusion in a future column.

And if you do decide to fish opening day, be careful. The cold water is unforgiving.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.com or 990-8214. Follow him on Twitter: @JohnHolyoke

John Holyoke has been enjoying himself in Maine's great outdoors since he was a kid. He spent 28 years working for the BDN, including 19 years as the paper's outdoors columnist or outdoors editor. While...