lördag 15 december 2012

Playing a Big Trout - To The Sound of a ”Violine”

A Nice Rainbow Trout From Ljusnan

          This is the trout I'm talking about. Not the happy fly fisher (yours truly some years ago). A Rainbow Trout weighing in at 7 lb or 3.2 kg. 

          To the story I might add that I had lost an even bigger Rainbow Trout, on dry fly, after playing him for like 1.5 hours (1 hour and 45 minutes I think it was). May have been this ones bigger brother. I made a fatal mistake from the beginning. I had seen surface activity from a gentle big trout. Decided to use a wasp fly since it was late autumn and that fly is a real killer that period. I made several attempts to entice the trout but noticed that there was no wind when my fly was passing over his hideout. It was dead calm so he wasn't deceived. Tried to coordinate myself to the wind and getting the fly fo float over the trout when the water surface was riffled by the wind. I was just about to give up when he took the fly a few meters below his hideout. He was cautious and followed the fly examining it before he took.

          Right after the hookup he came like a torpedo upstream and was going to make a jump. I got afraid and lowered the rod to prevent it. That was my mistake. I should have taken my chances that the tippet would resist the jump. The trout calmed down and we had a tug of war before he hid behind a rock. At that point I was just shot and made the mistake that the trout was tired too. How wrong I was in that. I was situated in a bad spot just at the tail of a big pool. When I pushed harder the trout just took a dive under the main current which swept away my floating fly line and the tippet snapped. I guess you can imagine how I felt at that moment. I still vividly can recall it though it was a long time ago. To make it worse I had a spectator on the other side of the river. After that we both just took off home.

The Souvenir The Old Bugger Of Rainbow Trout Took With Him
          From hooking this trout (in the picture) to get it to hand is something that was almost poetic. I knew that there was at least one big trout at a certain spot in this big pool that holds a lot of trout and grayling at certain times of the year. Many times I was just sitting down looking for trout or grayling activity. Since I've fished this pool several times I knew where to look and if there was any idea to try to entice the inhabitants of this wonderful pool.

           This time it was cloudy and no surface activity. Pretty cold and the autumn was well ahead. I had had some very nice takes of trout on my own version of wolly bugger in the spring so I went with something similar. An entirely black softhackled fly with no name. Unfortunately I lost it moving to my current apartment. Well back to the pool. I decided to try an upstream cast and letting the fly drift freely over one of the best spots in the pool. The cast has to be pretty long and yet give the fly a chance to drift freely for several feet without dragging. Not the easiest of tasks but I gave it a try.

Suddenly I saw the end of the fly line move slightly and since I thought that it was a take I tried to set the hook. It felt like the fly had cought a rock. Just firm with no movement and a feeling of disappointment spread in my whole body that suddenly felt very hevy. But just a few seconds later it seemed to move just a tad. Could it be a trout? I put as much force I dared into the rod and slowly it came closer and closer. It was a trout!!! I couldn't believe it.

           After a few minutes I could see the trout beneath my feet since I was standing on a rock above the surface of the water. If I could see the trout, that looked like a salmon, surely it could see me too. The reaction of the trout was like an explosion of power. It took off like a lightning upstreams 20 to 25 meters (like 70 feet or so). I almost fell off the rock. I held the trout so firm that the leader became as tought as a string of a violin. When the trout started to zig zag across the stream it sounded like a tune on a violin. As sweet as the violin concert of Beethoven. Maybe even sweeter for a passionate fly fisher. 

The Red Hot Pool In Question

          Even though I played the trout so hard it kept fighting upstream and across. What a lovely tune it played!!! I'll never forget it. Finally after a pretty long time the trout was getting weared out. Since I didn't have a net (and I wanted this trout for our upcoming marriage anniversary) I had to step down from the rock and try to grab him in the gills. Then the priest did it's job and the trout was in my hand while I was wading to the shore.

           I got the thumbs up from a guy on the other side of the river that had been watching. A mystery was unveiled when I came ashore. Wondered how on earth the trout had taken the fly when I must have been visible from his holding place. The trout had an injured eye and therefore couldn't see towards my direction. Usually the trout of this size are very hard to entice. Trying to be as invisible as possible is a must. Now I had the explanation. The trout was blind on his right eye. Otherwise I don't think he would have taken the fly. The conditions were to good so I should have been clearly visible on the rock. Have to have luck sometime. Until next post (probably a fly swap offer I'm preparing) ....

Stay warm and look forward to the next mayfly or midge hatch,
Mats Olsson


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