Trout fishing tale from a Kiwi flyfisher
Why fly fish ?
Forget all the hype about peace and tranquillity, being at one with your surroundings enjoying nature.
The reality is most of us go fishing to get away from cell phones,work callouts, annoying neighbours, a boring job and to escape from those nagging jobs around the house and to beat that damned fish.
We took it up firstly because we got to the stage where we could afford the fly rod, waders and all the gear and wanted to try something we'd always wanted to and escape the stress and commitments of the city.
One trip was all it took.
It wasn't the fish that was hooked.
We were.
From the first cast as the line glided over the gently swaying grass beside a still waterway reflecting the last rays of sun... that's all it took. We were in love with fishing and all things fishy. The peace, the tranquillity, at one with nature, yes, this was 'IT' - underlined, in capitals, we had found our true calling.
Right ! Easy, peasy with helpers at our elbow, straightening lines, unkinking the
snarled lines, words of encouragement heavy in the air. We can still recall these first heady moments, the smell of the outdoors in the air, the warm wet feel of the line as we pulled it in hand over hand. Yes, we did have a reel and yes, other anglers were using their reels & gently flicking and casting and but we wanted to experience every inch of the process.
We were entranced by the whole process, flick, cast, flick until ... zrrripp, yank rrrrrrrrgghhh as the line reeled out. The people on the bank watched in disbelief as our first trout took the line. "Hold your rod up, hold your rod up" they screamed. I did and wonder of amazing wonders I still had the trout on the end of it thinking what do I do now after 'omigod I've got a fish.'
I pulled it to the bank and retrieved this beautiful trout specimen in to admire and drool over, licking my lips and almost tasting it in my mind.
Should I release it or keep it - my mouth watered as I gazed at the trophy - it opened and closed its mouth and gazed up at me - what else could I do but lift the hook out and let it go. It shot back out into the canal and I felt like I'd just conquered Everest.
My husband looked jealously on and cast his line again.
So easy, I thought, smirking to myself as I cast my line again - why doesn't everyone want to discover the thrills and joys of this sport.
Five minutes later I no longer needed to wonder as I struggled in utter frustration trying to disentangle my fly from the long grasses on the opposite bank whilst my husband tried to hide his laughter and look helpful.
"You've cast too far" the helpful voices called from the bank.
"Try shorter casts" - grrrrrr - I'd been trying for ages to cast further to actually get the line in the canal at all !
Congratulations said my fly fisher boss, "I hope you put it back"
A vision of my trout neatly garnished and looking mouthwateringly delicious flashed across my mind and was immediately replaced by a vision of the trout swimming swiftly off.
"Of course" I responded.
Forget all the hype about peace and tranquillity, being at one with your surroundings enjoying nature.
The reality is most of us go fishing to get away from cell phones,work callouts, annoying neighbours, a boring job and to escape from those nagging jobs around the house and to beat that damned fish.
We took it up firstly because we got to the stage where we could afford the fly rod, waders and all the gear and wanted to try something we'd always wanted to and escape the stress and commitments of the city.
One trip was all it took.
It wasn't the fish that was hooked.
We were.
From the first cast as the line glided over the gently swaying grass beside a still waterway reflecting the last rays of sun... that's all it took. We were in love with fishing and all things fishy. The peace, the tranquillity, at one with nature, yes, this was 'IT' - underlined, in capitals, we had found our true calling.
Right ! Easy, peasy with helpers at our elbow, straightening lines, unkinking the
snarled lines, words of encouragement heavy in the air. We can still recall these first heady moments, the smell of the outdoors in the air, the warm wet feel of the line as we pulled it in hand over hand. Yes, we did have a reel and yes, other anglers were using their reels & gently flicking and casting and but we wanted to experience every inch of the process.
We were entranced by the whole process, flick, cast, flick until ... zrrripp, yank rrrrrrrrgghhh as the line reeled out. The people on the bank watched in disbelief as our first trout took the line. "Hold your rod up, hold your rod up" they screamed. I did and wonder of amazing wonders I still had the trout on the end of it thinking what do I do now after 'omigod I've got a fish.'
I pulled it to the bank and retrieved this beautiful trout specimen in to admire and drool over, licking my lips and almost tasting it in my mind.
Should I release it or keep it - my mouth watered as I gazed at the trophy - it opened and closed its mouth and gazed up at me - what else could I do but lift the hook out and let it go. It shot back out into the canal and I felt like I'd just conquered Everest.
My husband looked jealously on and cast his line again.
So easy, I thought, smirking to myself as I cast my line again - why doesn't everyone want to discover the thrills and joys of this sport.
Five minutes later I no longer needed to wonder as I struggled in utter frustration trying to disentangle my fly from the long grasses on the opposite bank whilst my husband tried to hide his laughter and look helpful.
"You've cast too far" the helpful voices called from the bank.
"Try shorter casts" - grrrrrr - I'd been trying for ages to cast further to actually get the line in the canal at all !
Congratulations said my fly fisher boss, "I hope you put it back"
A vision of my trout neatly garnished and looking mouthwateringly delicious flashed across my mind and was immediately replaced by a vision of the trout swimming swiftly off.
"Of course" I responded.
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