For me, 'that pool' is one on the Fraser River that I cross when heading to fish a well regarded stretch of the Twizel River, and despite my best efforts, have only managed to spook umpteen trout and mistime the strike on all the rest.
Small streams are so rewarding to fish because most of the time they are so much more challenging (read here '%&!^@ frustrating'). The trout can be just as big, but they tend to spook a lot easier as everything in a small stream moves slower, quieter, and the fisherman tends to be so much closer to his quarry.
Well, after 6 weeks of fishing 'that pool' I finally managed some success. After tying on a new leader, and popping on a size 16 Dad's Favourite, I inched down to the pool, wondering where the spooked trout was going to take off from.
As I got my first foot to the stream edge, a bold swirl about four meters upstream caught my eye. A good sized trout was feeding voraciously on the very edge of a relatively deep drop off, right against the edge of the stream. He seemed to be mostly working on nymphs, but following my lack of success with this pool in the nymph department, I thought I'd stick with the ol' Dads Favourite.
First cast. Trev the Trout swings out and takes a half hearted slap at the fly.
Second cast. Trev swings out, follows it down stream for a meter (now only about 3m away from me), then flags it and moves back up to his favourite spot.
Third cast. Trev doesn't even bother.
Fourth Cast. more of the same. Still feeding on underwater stuff.
Time to change flies. on goes a size 16 beaded H&C nymph.
First cast ...dammit, I can't see the fly in the water.
Second cast. Trev swings out and looks like he grabs something.....
Strike!
H & C nymph whistles past my face - Trev continues feeding.
Third cast...Trev ignores and sucks something off the surface.
On goes another Dads Favourite. For some reason I decided to go bigger.
As I put through a couple of false casts, I noticed a shadow on the bottom about three meters upstream, and 1 1/2 meters out to my right. It wasn't moving, and although it looked kind of fishy, no self respecting trout would stay that close when a rod is flicking back and forward in the morning sun. I planted the fly down just to the left of my feeding fish who whirled around to have a closer inspection. Just as I thought he was about to suck it down, the shadow erupted and aggressively took the fly before 'my' fish could get it. Counting to three I tightened the line and we were on. The mystery intruder calm worked his way up stream, slowly but deliberately stripping my reel. I quickly crossed the stream to avoid some low flying tree branches and followed him up the true left bank.
As he swirled back downstream, I saw that this was a better fish than most of the early season salmonoids I've been catching. Coming almost directly parallel, Trev saw me, turned and made a bee line for some submerged tree branches. "Oh no you don't" I muttered under my breath, and before he got up there, applied a whole lot more side strain which seemed to stop the run.
Now he turned and this time slowly worked his way down stream. Once again I followed, and got behind him with the net. Just as I thought I had him he took off straight past me and ripped into the rapids below the pool. It was almost multi tasking, as I stripped off line and dragged myself across the stream once more to avoid the willows. At last he seemed to be losing strength, so after a few more negotiations, he elected to come into the net.
My brother was over from Japan, so this one went into the bag.
Finally, the curse of 'that pool' was broken
