The big one... (you know the rest)

So after showing the kids how to fish, and watching them get
completely thrilled by catching tons of little 4-8 inch trout for the
week, I thought it was time for me to wander away from the crowd and
have a little quality time for myself. There was a nice 300 foot long
rapid just downstream from our camp, with lots of pocket water and
runs, so I tied on a Olive BH Wooly Bugger, and started working my way
down. Swimming the fly through every little eddy and slot, gingerly
walking down along the rocky shore; no hits. I knew that this stretch
of the Mohaka holds some ridiculously large browns and bows, so I just
enjoyed my time, working the rapid. The river was a bit entrenched,
with a 20 foot cliff along the shore, so walking downstream was a
delicate act of balancing on slippery rocks, trying not to churn up
too much sludge from behind the rocks, and limboing around bramble
bushes. Eventually, I got down to the bottom of the rapid where all
the little channels came together right into a huge boulder midstream.
The water swirled around in a deep green pool before it washed on
either side of the boulder and out below the rapid. Unfortunately, the
footing ended right about there also, as the swirling water had long
ago undercut the cliff and there was no way to get down to the deep
pool by the boulder. To me, that meant that there had to be a monster
trout resident right there, who had not been fished over very often.
So finding a toe hold a few feet above the water level right on the
cliff, I cast the WB into the channel that fed the pool, and let it
drift down, wash around the boulder, and drop down into the depths.

The take was gentle. For the first instant, I thought that maybe the
water had just swirled the line around, causing a little tug. So I
tpulled back, and there was resistance. Maybe I was tagged onto a log?
Or just hung up against a rock? So I pulled a little harder, and the
line came back toward me slowly, like I was dragging a branch. Then it
shook...just a little bit, but definately it shook. When you get a
little fish on, that shaking is like a dog wagging its tail...a fast
flapping kind of shake. But this was slow, and deliberate. Like when
you put your shoulder into pushing a car out of the mud, or you try to
shake an apple out of a big tree. Not hard, but slow. I started
reeling in the slack, thinking out loud "whoa, this is a real NZ
trout!" As I reeled in the slack to get the fish on the reel, the line
kept coming at me as fast as I could reel. I stripped in some line to
get tension on the fish and looked down to see the slack tangled at my
feet around some brambles. Instantly I locked off the line, the tip
went sky high to get some bend in the rod, and I jerked the line free
from the brush and spun the rim of the reel to take up the slack. Then
I started reeling in as the fish kept coming toward me. Off in the
deep, I saw a bright white spot, right about where the end of the line
should be. Curious. As I reeled in, the shadow of the fish took form,
and I realized that the white spot was his mouth, as the fly was
probably hooked in his upper lip and as I was above him, it was
holding his mouth open. I had some instantaneous thoughts wondering if
this was good or bad...I figured the increased drag of facing upstream
with an open mouth might tire him out more, but it also meant that
oxygenated water was being flushed over his gills at a high rate,
possibly helping him out. I also had a quick thought that maybe his
upper lip was firmer than his lower lip, so there was less chance of
the fly pulling out.

These thoughts flashed through my mind in a fraction of a second, and
were replaced with the realization that he was letting me drag him
right to me! I looked down and noticed that there was no good place to
land him, so I started working my way back upstream to where I could
get my net down to water level.

At that moment, when I moved, he must have seen me. Any thoughts that
he was going to come right to hand vanished as he took off like a
freight train completely across the river. The reel screamed as the
line stripped out, and fortunately the little slack that I had spun
into the spool when I rimmed the reel came out smoothly. But man, this
guy could RUN. When he was completely across the river, I was afraid
he would dive downstream at the far side of the big boulder, so I
muscled him back toward me (hoping my assumptions about upper-lip
hookups being stronger were true). I had him on a 5wt 9ft rod, and
with one hand on the grip, he was pulling back so hard that the rod
was doubled, with no more room to bend, and I did not have the
strength in my right hand to pull the rod back any more. For a few
seconds, it was a stalemate. I put another hand above the reel and
pulled back, wondering about those roff conversations about breaking
off the rod above an upper hand, and he decided to go airborne. It was
my first look at him, and he was about 30 feet away, but even at that
distance I could see that this was a MONSTER rainbow.

He hit the water moving, and stripped the reel again. Again, I muscled
him around, head upstream, and dragged him back into the swirly water
in front of the rock so he could not get on the far side. Suddenly, he
changed tactics. He ran straight at me, and the rod tip went slack.
Frantically I spun the reel, taking up line, until I could get tension
on the rod. He came to a stop about 6 feet in front of me, in a calm
window of water and about 5 feet deep, and I got a good look at him.
Looking back and forth between him and my rod, I guaged that he was as
long as from the butt to the stripping guide; maybe 30 inches or so.
He wasn't a big football, but instead streamlined and torpedo shaped.
Maybe 5-6 pounds. Big by NZ standards, but not off scale. But HUGE by
my standards; easily the largest fish I ever had connected to my gear.
I suddenly wished I had a net with a 10 foot handle.

He then turned and swam firmly (but slowly....maybe I was finally
tiring him out?) back toward home. I pulled back, turning him upstream
and he tried to run across the river again. This time he only bolted
about 15 feet, then dove to the bottom and locked himself down. I
don't know how he did it, but I could feel him pulling hard, but he
was not getting further away and I was not able to get him to come
back. I could imagine that he was sideways to the current, using the
water to help him pull. I pulled a bit harder, and he slid toward me
about a foot, then with a firm tug he stopped again. I could see that
there were some very sharp rocks just to the right of my leader, and
if he swung around downstream it woud definately cut my tippet, so I
had to get him to come back another few feet. I pulled a little bit
harder still, and as the line came slithering back toward me I know I
had lost him.

I reeled in and saw that my knot had failed where I had tied some 3x
tippet into my leader. It had probably held 20 pounds of force for the
whole battle (about 2 minutes that felt like 20), and eventually,
something had to give.

At the moment, it was a bit of a gut wrench, but I accepted it and
shrugged it off. However, in the weeks since then, I keep replaying
that moment, and I dream of the alternate reality where I get this
baby to hand, and show the kids what fly fishing is ALL about. I know
some of you boys who have tagged into larger fish know how to play
them, but for me, this was the biggest fish I ever hooked into, and it
got away.

Curious; how many other roffians can make that same painful claim?

--riverman

On 12-Apr-2008, riverman wrote:

but for me, this was the biggest fish I ever hooked into, and it
got away.

Curious; how many other roffians can make that same painful claim?

--riverman

Nice TR Thanks
It has happened to me a few times and I thoroughly enjoyed the fight ea time
I got beat by a fish smarter than me or a kink in the tippet
Who knows
I tend to believe the former
But it was a great few minutes sometimes more ea time
Fred

On Sat, 12 Apr 2008 21:37:15 -0700 (PDT), riverman
wrote:


Curious; how many other roffians can make that same painful claim?

--riverman

Great TR, Myron.

I think the same thing has happened to all of us. I still relive the
time I saw a big - at least 5 pounds - brook trout take my offering
and then swim upstream to wrap himself around a log/rock.

At least you saw the fish. To have that happen without knowing what
it was is, to me, harder to accept.

Dave

On Sat, 12 Apr 2008 21:37:15 -0700 (PDT), riverman
wrote:

So after showing the kids how to fish, and watching them get
completely thrilled by catching tons of little 4-8 inch trout for the
week, I thought it was time for me to wander away from the crowd and
snipped

At the moment, it was a bit of a gut wrench, but I accepted it and
shrugged it off. However, in the weeks since then, I keep replaying
that moment, and I dream of the alternate reality where I get this
baby to hand, and show the kids what fly fishing is ALL about. I know
some of you boys who have tagged into larger fish know how to play
them, but for me, this was the biggest fish I ever hooked into, and it
got away.

Curious; how many other roffians can make that same painful claim?

--riverman


Wow Myron, that was a fine Sunday morning read. As to as whether its
ever happened to me, yep, a couple times. What chya gonna do?

GeoC

On Sat, 12 Apr 2008 21:37:15 -0700 (PDT), riverman
wrote:

So after showing the kids how to fish, and watching them get
completely thrilled by catching tons of little 4-8 inch trout...

SNIP

At the moment, it was a bit of a gut wrench, but I accepted it and
shrugged it off. However, in the weeks since then, I keep replaying
that moment, and I dream of the alternate reality where I get this
baby to hand, and show the kids what fly fishing is ALL about. I know
some of you boys who have tagged into larger fish know how to play
them, but for me, this was the biggest fish I ever hooked into, and it
got away.

Curious; how many other roffians can make that same painful claim?

Sorry, I've never felt the desire to show a bunch of kids who had just
learned to fish and were thrilled with smaller fish what FFing is ALL
about by showing off a big fish...but I can understand why some might
call such "painful"...to see, anyway...

Hey, you asked,
R

--riverman

"riverman" wrote in message
...

...At the moment, it was a bit of a gut wrench, but I accepted it and
shrugged it off. However, in the weeks since then, I keep replaying
that moment, and I dream of the alternate reality where I get this
baby to hand, and show the kids what fly fishing is ALL about. I know
some of you boys who have tagged into larger fish know how to play
them, but for me, this was the biggest fish I ever hooked into, and it
got away.

Curious; how many other roffians can make that same painful claim?

Happens to some of us often enough (and on smaller fish) that the pain was
long ago blunted.

Very nice report.

Wolfgang

Myron,

That was a great story for reading.

Sometimes the big is hitting. When I was hiking along
Inari river and Kietsima river with my wife and my elder son,
I had an experience. It was the last day and we stopped at a rapid some
15 kilometers north before leaving the river.

I was standing on a clip at the river level behind me a several
meters high rock. I had my 8 weight rod system and a bigger
black and red fly tied on a double hook.

I was casting the fly continuosly accross the river.
There was a heavy and turbulent stream next to my feet.
A small waterfall some 5 to 6 meters up from me.

Suddenly I noticed a big trout jumpin high up just down
from the waterfall. I was placing my fly right into the turbulence
down from the waterfall. And suddenly the line was tightening.

I started to reel in. My rod was bending and the line was so tight
that you could play with it. That something at the other end of the line
started to move down the stream. There was a big pool down from
me.

When the line was streigh to down from me that something
got away. I got my leadre and fly back, but not the fish,
whatever it was. That big trout I saw or possibly a salmon.

The weather was hot at that time and water level was very low.
The searun salmon was not rising up but waiting for more water.

Osmo

On Apr 14, 10:44*pm, "Osmo Jauhiainen" wrote:
Myron,

That was a great story for reading.

Sometimes the big is hitting. *When I was hiking along
Inari river and Kietsima river with my wife and my elder son,
I had an experience. It was the last day and we stopped at a rapid some
15 kilometers north before leaving the river.

I was standing on a clip at the river level behind me a several
meters high rock. *I had my 8 weight rod system and a bigger
black and red fly tied on a double hook.

I was casting the fly continuosly accross the river.
There was a heavy and turbulent stream next to my feet.
A small waterfall some 5 to 6 meters up from me.

Suddenly I noticed a big trout jumpin high up just down
from the waterfall. *I was placing my fly right into the turbulence
down from the waterfall. *And suddenly the line was tightening.

I started to reel in. *My rod was bending and the line was so tight
that you could play with it. *That something at the other end of the line
started to move down the stream. *There was a big pool down from
me.

When the line was streigh to down from me that something
got away. *I got my leadre and fly back, but not the fish,
whatever it was. *That big trout I saw or possibly a salmon.

The weather was hot at that time and water level was very low.
The searun salmon was not rising up but waiting for more water.

Osmo

Nice tale, Osmo. I like that imagery that "the line was so tight that
you could play (music) with it."

You going to be in Sweden this summer?

--riverman

"riverman" wrote in message
...
On Apr 14, 10:44 pm, "Osmo Jauhiainen" wrote:
Myron,

That was a great story for reading.

Osmo

Nice tale, Osmo. I like that imagery that "the line was so tight that
you could play (music) with it."

You going to be in Sweden this summer?

Myron,

I hope to get to Sweden for fishing but at least
for grouse hunting season opening with Roger and
Vaughan and his wife Asa, like last August.

Osmo

Osmo Jauhiainen wrote:
"riverman" wrote in message
...
On Apr 14, 10:44 pm, "Osmo Jauhiainen" wrote:
Myron,

That was a great story for reading.

Osmo
Nice tale, Osmo. I like that imagery that "the line was so tight that
you could play (music) with it."

You going to be in Sweden this summer?

Myron,

I hope to get to Sweden for fishing but at least
for grouse hunting season opening with Roger and
Vaughan and his wife Asa, like last August.

Osmo



I hope you can make it again Osmo - and that we find a few more birds this time... :-) It will be
fun to let Smilla hunt for the first time!

That sounded like a nice fish Myron, bad luck. I really want to get back there. If you get some
plans sorted for summer, let me know. Åsa and I will move house sometime this summer (assuming
everything works out OK with the sale of our current place) so this will likely mess up my fishing
this year. OTOH, the new place is on the banks of a rapid in Vindelälven so maybe there will be a
fish or two there.... :-D

Vaughan