After she remarked that it was about time that Britain’s leading flyfishing club admitted women, Marina Gibson received a rush of helpful suggestions from male anglers who felt protective of the club’s heritage. Gibson could set up her own flyfishing organisation for women, one man suggested. Another pointed out that she could join the Women’s Institute if she really wanted to be part of a club, or visit the Flyfishers’ Club in the evening (but not at lunchtime) if she was lucky enough to be invited in by one of the 600 men who are members. Others emailed asking her to explain why she wanted to join in the first place. “I don’t want to have to start up a women’s-only flyfishing club because they won’t let us into their one,” Gibson said wearily. One of Britain’s few high-profile female anglers, Gibson is familiar with the strain of unthinking sexism from many men in the community. “I don’t want to be called a fisherwoman. I don’t want to be a member of a women’s-only fishing club. I just want to be equal.” Women have suggested intermittently since at least the 1970s that the Flyfishers’ men-only rules should be changed, but these requests have been consistently rejected by the 140-year-old Mayfair institution, of which the king is patron and which is housed in two upstairs rooms in the white stuccoed, neoclassical Savile Club (which also does not permit female members). Gibson has been backed by a handful of fellow high-profile women in fishing who feel the club’s persistent refusal to admit women is symbolic of the sport’s wider scepticism toward female anglers. Amie Battams, a campaigner against elitism in the sport, wrote to the club this week to express her sadness that the “club has not evolved to include women”. Phillippa Hake, a passionate angler who works for the flytying company Semperfli, said there were only five female anglers in the Ryburn and Halifax angling society, which has about 400 members. She speculated that the disparity stemmed from an enduring sense that men can take the weekend off for leisure activities “while women should be in the house, doing housework and stuff like that”. Scarred by a decade in the male-dominated sport, Gibson was not surprised to see her mild request for equal access triggering such intense annoyance among many male anglers. Her memoir, Cast Catch Release, detailed how she had to set up her own flyfishing guiding company because she was unable to persuade any of the established guide organisations to hire her; how she faced a year-long campaign oof online harassment from two individuals; and how stalkers had targeted her on several occasions. “As well as the abusive and derogatory comments on social media, they made it plain that their intent was to tear me down and destroy my career,” she wrote. “I was constantly reminded that some people would always resent my presence in fishing simply because I was young, blonde and female … Part of this was the soft misogyny that most women who fish (or do just about anything) have experienced … And some of it was more targeted: an almost vitriolic response to my profile on social media.” Gibson’s comments have attracted support from club member Feargal Sharkey, the singer, lifelong flyfisher and environmentalist. “My family refer to the club as ‘that bunch of old men in a shed’. I would welcome women members with open arms. I’d support anything that brings people together to focus on conservation and on how to protect our rivers.” Gibson said she was puzzled as to what most members’ objections might be towards admitting women. “Could it be that they’re worried about women not dressing appropriately? Or are they worried women would be to be too noisy? “I’m surprised they aren’t being more open-minded. The Flyfishers’ Club in London is the most significant club for people like me who live and breathe fishing. It’s one of the most famous fishing clubs in the world. It’s just so sad that it remains men only. Women are a growing demographic in flyfishing. We’ve worked really hard to make it more inclusive.” The club’s position is understood to be that the organisation remains primarily a social club for gentlemen only and that while some members are in favour of admitting women, many are still strongly against it. Speaking to the Telegraph, the club president, Alastair Collett, said: “The matter is under consideration by the general committee. No decision has been taken. We were already discussing the matter before the Garrick changed their rules. Women can come for any event which is open.” The club was contacted for comment.