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Flood and Dry Weather  --Vol.6--

Good Luck Does Not Repeat Itself

The next day was June 18. Although it did not rain, dark clouds spread over the gloomy sky from the morning. It was ordinary scenery in June apart from flood. Mary Anne and I headed for Lower Gaula Beat as a matter of course.
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The water level considerably dropped during the night. Clear water of Lundasokna was flowing along this bank side.

We arrived at the beat about 9 o’clock. We did not need to come at dawn because no angler except for us was due to fish here in Norwegian Flyfishers Club. The biggest flood in 50 years turned the anglers away and all the bookings were cancelled. About two days later, however, many anglers would dash to fish here, hearing the news that a Japanese angler caught a 40lb trophy salmon. Anyway, before their arrival the beats were exclusively for us!

At the bank we found that three anglers had already been fishing in the beat upstream. Walking along the river, we headed for the hut upstream. The angler who cast the line most downstream of three was Mr. Masurat, who had scooped my salmon the previous day. I walked to him to say thank-you again. Although we could not talk well either in German or English, I believed that he accepted my thanks. He had known me for a long time and all the anglers in his beat including himself used Flat Beam!

He invited us to the hut for hot tea. To my surprise, many liquor bottles of various colours and shapes occupied the hut shelves. Only a glance revealed what a hard drinker he was!

Enjoying tea, I stared at the river in front of me. There was a junction of Lundasokna just upstream and clear water was flowing down from there along this bank side. As the water level was almost 1m lower than the previous day, clear water was flowing wider.

This is an ideal point. The River Gaula has got no proper tributaries around here. Because this point is the only junction, fish coming upstream stop here to decide which way to go ahead, whether it is high water or low water. That is a favourable situation and furthermore, this point is the only place where clear water flows when the main stream has got muddy water. Mr. Masurat had booked this beat for the whole summer for those 15 years. Once he fished here he could not think of fishing any other beat. I understood his feeling well.
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I was standing into the water in front of the border stone.
The river flowed so monotonously that the water pressure I felt on my body was very high.

On coming back to our beat, Mary Anne and I prepared for fishing. The twig I had put up the previous day as a mark to measure the water level was 3m away from the waterfront. Surely the water level was still falling now.

I walked into the water from the point where my mark stone completely appeared on the surface. I felt the river still flowing heavily. To make the matters worse, mud, particularly soft clayey one, instead of stone, was exposed on some part of the river bed. It was so slippery that I could not stand firmly. Ironically, decrease of the water level increased the danger.

I prepared utterly the same tackle as the previous day. There was no reason to change tackle but my real feeling was that I hoped my dream would come true again. 24 hours had passed since my catch of 40lb salmon. A new fish, a similar sized one might stay here. If fortunate, a bigger one.

I started fishing. In no time I reached before the boiling water. Due to lower water the boiling water was more noticeable among the monotonous stream. I found clearly a conical hollow on the river bed near the bank. I cast my fly there like the previous day.

The speed of the flow was more desirable than the previous day. I easily imagined how Stingray Long-tailed passed dancing through the conical hollow. When the fly passed halfway of it I turned the rod towards the bank and made the fly drift to the bank side. All the process was the same as the previous day.
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My fly was drifting through the boiling water spreading downstream.

I had got a bite here the previous day. I was thrilled to remember that. My heart was pounding more quickly and I felt thirsty. I saw the rod tip pulled a bit.

"A fish again. It has really come!"

I said so unconsciously. The pull was feeble but sure. I had no doubt. Remembering the fish face of the previous day, I laid the rod carefully and tightened the line towards upstream. Due to complicated flow the response from the fish felt soft like the previous day. I wondered what a monster bit my fly. It came upstream from the sea throughout the flood. It must be big.

I finished hooking although the fish response was feeble. Then I raised my rod high. I constantly felt at my rod the fish swinging its head a little. While I was winding the reel, I lowered the rod tip near to the water surface. Then I held the line firmly and started raising the rod.

I could raise the rod much more easily than I had expected. I only felt the pull a little stronger and the rod tip pointed high upwards at once. Feeling strange, I wound the reel. The line shortened very easily. A small fish came sliding the surface with a splash.

"Oh, no. What's that?"

I screamed. My half self felt shocked but the other half giggled. At the leader end that I had just raised was there a 3lb fish whose mouth was full of large Stingray Long-tailed. It was hanging on to the line, struggling violently. Although its colour was unnaturally whitish because of high water, it was definitely a sea trout.

"Why has a sea trout come to my fly?"

"How foolish I am to believe I hooked a big fish! I felt the strain in vain."

It was a great mystery to me why the sea trout stayed here in this season. Anyway, I could not suppress a bitter smile at myself, remembering how I lowered my waist for careful hooking and raised the rod with all my strength only to catch such a tiny fish.

-- To be continued --
2003/01/05  KEN SAWADA
Tranlated into English by Miyoko Ohtake