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In the River TAKAHARA  --Vol.74--

Popping Rises

In the end of July I went fishing for char in a tributary of the River Takahara and dropped in at Tochio on my way back. Needless to say, I wanted to catch the yamame trout that had disappeared at the pool of the bedrock nearly 3 weeks before. I visited Mr. Kohji Shimoge, a master of my usual inn, the Hohzan Villa. He said that no big fish had been caught in the pool of the bedrock since I left there. It must be good news to me but he added that there was no noticeable catch at other spots, either. I felt uneasy.
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Many tributaries flowing into the River Takahara were famous for char fishing.

For a little while after snow melting season the valley of the River Takahara has rich water. More and more sedges hatch and the fish grow up quickly. The best fishing season in the year. Later when rainy season ends, the river suddenly changes into low water. There is such a sharp decrease in the water amount, the fish number and even the bait that fishing becomes difficult. Now the river seemed to be in such difficult season.

I knew the recent bad situation very well. That was why I went to the source area to fish char during the daytime. However, when the evening drew near, I got excited and could not help coming back to the main stream.

There were less fish than before but not zero. However, because of low water and high water-temperature, fish appeared for only short time in a day. To make the matter worse, the fish which survived long until July were so clever that they never bit the fly carelessly even when their whereabouts was known.
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Wild Canary was flowing beautifully on the surface. The scene relaxed me.

In those days many anglers went fishing to the River Takahara. In spring anglers came to fish one after another from morning till night. Fly, lure, bait, Japanese traditional fly, all sorts of fishermen gathered together. Around Tochio, a favourite haunt of fishermen, no wonder the fish staying in the good point saw the dangerous bait with hook at least 50 times a day, 1500 times a month. How many thousand times did the survivors in July see such bait? They might have bitten it several times but luckily escaped from it. They must be tough fish!

In this season local anglers often talk about several fish whose whereabouts is known but who are never caught. Those fish usually hide in the special spots with big advantage, for example, where the water flows in such a complicated way that any dry fly is forced to sink or cause drag. If the fish, especially the tough ones, hide into those spots anglers will be able to do nothing. We will be finished!
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As yamame trout grew up, individual difference became remarkable.

There were some hours left before evening. I moved upstream from Dohkanmatu towards the artificial barrier of Kansaka. Around there the river divided into 2 streams and low water became further lower. I chose my favourite stream to the mountain side. I fished upstream with size 14 Wild Canary, the same fly as my first trial 4 years before.

In the medium-water season, good-looking points appear one after another. But now there were only several points here and there. In early spring with a lot of fish, low water is not an obstacle to anglers but now I was in a tough situation.

Fortunately, some yamame trout broke the surface at some heads of the small pools where water flowed fast and smoothly. Judging from their size of 15 cm, they surely had been released in spring.
In the end of July the sun sets earlier. It was difficult to fish 2 spots in the similar brightness, unlike 3 weeks before. I had to focus on one spot. Judging from the water level, which is more suitable, the pool of the bedrock or the barrier of Kansaka? I kept fishing upstream. Probably because good-looking spots were fewer, I reached the pool of the bedrock earlier than I had expected. It was not my style to do nothing but just wait. I decided to fish farther upstream with dry fly, checking the condition.
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A yamame trout less than 40cm broke the surface. It fought fiercely for its size.

A Tiny Pool

The pool of the bedrock was completely changed. The water amount was reduced by half, which changed the end of the pool into a tiny pool. To my disappointment, the very spot where I had caught a trophy-size yamame trout got stagnant enough for disgusting Japanese dace to stay. Fortunately, a beautiful water-line was made near the head of the pool. It looked attractive. If some fish are in this pool they will come here, so I believed. I cast the dry fly very carefully. No response.

Then I walked upstream to the barrier and found 2 anglers, each of whom was standing at its own bank of the head of the small pool of the lower part of the barrier. They seemed to keep their positions until evening.

Oh, dear! I have to give up fishing the barrier today. What will I do? Standing on the rock in the current, I looked around. Big rocks were dotted on the steep slope between the pool of the bedrock and the barrier. At the time of high water fishing is impossible due to too many bubbles but now at low water, attractive heads of the small pool were found one after another where the water flowed fast and smoothly. Looking at the watch and the sky in turn, I decided to fish farther upstream with dry fly for another 10 minutes. Because sedges were flying much less than 3 weeks before, it seemed to be too early to change the dry fly into the wet fly.
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The hook came off more often in this season due to fierce fighting.

There was an extraordinary giant rock like a small lorry very near the barrier. The stream flowed from under it as if it had welled up. I loved it. It was the luckiest point where I had caught the most fish in this area. I cast Wild Canary to this head of the pool.

Wild Canary came sliding on the waving surface, spreading its spent-wings and keeping balance. It looked very pretty. I thought that it looked attractive to the fish in the water, too. I cast to the same spot 3 times. A yamame trout watched the fly from only an inch away. It followed the fly 30cm downstream and opened its big mouth to swallow it quietly. It was a beautiful male yamame trout, a little smaller than a trophy-size one.

After landing it, I went back downstream. When I returned to the pool of the bedrock it got much darker than I had fished at the lower reaches of the barrier. Good timing! I removed Wild Canary and took a new leader from the wallet to put it to the line. I wondered which leader set to choose for low water. Then I chose my usual combination of size 8 Great Sedge put to the tip of 2X leader of 7ft. 6 in. and size 6 Great Sedge as a dropper put to that leader 70cm away.
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After the peak of growing season the yamame trout got a little thinner.

Some, even if a few, sedges were flying. I expected their number would increase soon but it decreased. A large number of sedges do not guarantee unmistakable catch but a small number of them discouraged me. The pool remained quiet at the best time of fishing. I decided to start fishing, after waiting as long as possible.

At first I cast the fly upstream and waited until it drifted downstream to the end. I started casting carefully from the head of the pool and moved downstream slowly and calmly. The river had a small amount of the water and it was so quiet that I could hear the faintest sound. But I heard no sound of rise before I finished casting to the end of the narrowing pool of the bedrock.

The colour of the surface was different from usual. The bright moon was shining above the barrier. When I started walking back to the head of the pool an animal crossed the pale misty bank and disappeared into the mountain behind. A raccoon dog or a fox? It was not so big as a Japanese serow or a bear. I had seen similar animals several times here. Probably I was standing in their trail.

I came back to the head of the pool. It smelled of animal around there. It was not rare occasions around the River Takahara but I felt uncomfortable. I feel so especially when I am alone or in the evening. There was no rise. Let’s call it a day! Watching the moon shining lighter, I was about to remove the leader.

A pizzicato!

That sound again. I froze and stopped every movement. I watched around the pool. I was all ears. Half a minute passed soundless. It was not my mere fancy. It was the same sound as I had heard 3 weeks before. I kept my eye on the surface without moving. With another pizzicato a little ripple spread in front of me in the moonlight. It happened at a little lower reaches of the head of the pool, where the river flowed slowly. It happened at the edge of the rock at the opposite bank, only 5m away from the waterfront where I was standing.
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As the fish grew up to be big, more and more fish were caught with wet fly.

Just before casting the fly, I changed my mind, considering the flow and that little rise. Size 8 lead fly looked too big. Watching the rise spot carefully again, I decided to change it into size 10 Great Sedge. I had to change flies in the faintest possible light. I turned my back against the pool and turned on the flashlight inside my waistcoat to prevent the light from shining on the pool. I had prepared the used batteries in the flashlight to avoid feeling dizzy after changing flies.

A Scar

I turned off the light and closed my eyes slowly three times to accustom myself to the darkness. After I changed the fly into size 10 Great Sedge, those popping little rises happened twice. What perfect timing! I cast the fly carefully. I waited for the fly to drift far away from the rising spot and retrieved it quietly. I cast again, 5 times in total. Then I held the fly in my hand and waited. There were no more rises.

I stood like a statue at the waterfront. I felt like a beast which lay down on the grass in wait for its victim. Probably 5 minutes passed. A pizzicato again. I took a deep breath, waited a little and cast the fly very carefully.
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After the peak of sedges’ hatch fish responded well to the small flies again.

I got a faint but clear bite. I raised the rod slowly but soon it was drawn into the water. Suddenly the fish ran downstream, fought fiercely, breaking the surface and went down to the bottom to stick to it. I moved slowly to the side of the fish and waited until it was tired and broke the surface again. Before long a silver fish came up from the bottom, swaying its body. When it paused momentarily on the surface, I scooped it into the net.

It was a yamame trout of 33cm. It had a scar on the edge of the mouth. The wound completely healed up. Probably more than 2 months had passed since it cut off the angler’s line. It was not sure whether the fish was the same one that I had missed 3 weeks before. Only the fish could answer. Anyway, it was a tough fighter I could not forget. I felt happy to meet such a fish because the meeting led me to complete my new fly, Great Sedge.

-- To be continued --
2003/12/07  KEN SAWADA
Tranlated into English by Miyoko Ohtake