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Flood and Dry Weather  --Vol.7--
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As the water level became lower, we could clearly see the boiling water from upstream. Later it was called Sawada Pool.

A Moonlit Night

After lunch Mary Anne and I came back to our beat. The water level became still lower. It was almost 1.5m lower than its peak but still high enough to be called flood. The larger area of the bank became exposed, the wider range of the river bed revealed its condition.

As usual I fished down from the border stone. I fished carefully through the boiling water. Nothing happened. Looking over downstream, I thought I could manage to wade along the bank. Since the bank formed a steep slope and tall trees grew thickly just behind it, either wading or casting the fly looked very hard. Considering the difficulty, I gingerly waded downstream.

The water reached my waist when I was away only 2m from the waterfront. The river was still flowing heavily. Once I stopped, the pebbles underfoot were carried away rapidly. It was very difficult to wade. Furthermore, I had to swing the rod at my left side, standing near the right bank. That made it more difficult to keep my balance.

There was a pine tree on the bank 30m downstream. When I fished down just beside it, something touched my fly. It occurred only once and momentarily. I was not sure but thought it could be a fish. I cast the fly to the same place again. Nothing happened. I fished further 30m down before giving up and climbing up the steep bank. Fishing further downstream looked dangerous because the slope of the bank became steeper.

Because possible range of our fishing was short Mary Anne and I fished the same place by turns. It took us less than half an hour. We fished down three times each and got tired of fishing. Then we made the fire to warm and relax us or walked to Mr. Masurat to have a nice chat about fishing. Oddly enough, seen from his beat upstream, our beat and its flow looked attractive. Because I had fed up with fishing there we came here for some chat. But once I left my place I wanted to return at once. What strange feelings we enthusiast have!

At our beat the fish did not appear any more. Even if we have no catch now, no one can tell what will happen 5 minutes later. That's salmon fishing. However, I could not concentrate so long on fishing such a tiny spot. We decided to take some rest.

After supper we headed for the river again. It was after 9 o'clock but still light enough to go fishing. To be exact, clouds made the sky not too light but properly light.
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The river flowed awfully monotonous but the river bed near the bank was full of ups and downs.

We found no angler at the bank. Probably Mr. Masurat and other anglers upstream went to dinner. We fished carefully twice respectively. Nothing happened.

Feeling that it became lighter around, I looked up the sky. There was a full moon against the snowy mountains.

There is no catch on a night with a full moon.

Every angler knows that the proverb applied to most of night fishing. Is it true with salmon fishing, too? It was my first night fishing with a full moon in Norway. I had some interest in that proverb but thought flood and scarce fish would be an obstacle to make sure of the truth.

Against my better judgement, my inner voice, a slave to the convention, whispered to me that a full moon would allow me no catch during night. In order to make sure of the truth, I should have continued to fish until the moon disappeared behind the mountains at dawn. But I had no feeling to do so. I had been exhausted with those several days' fishing and wanted to have a rest. A full moon gave me a good excuse to leave the river.
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Fortunately or not, a full moon suddenly appeared between the clouds.

An Anxiety

I woke up at 5 o'clock at dawn. I closed my eyes to take another several hours' sleep. The scenery of the river a few hours before revived in my mind. I had come back to the hotel because there was no sign of fish. But once it occurred to me that a new fish might come into the beat, I was too excited to sleep. After having doze for half an hour, I sneaked alone out of my bed into the river. I could not wait for the morning to come.

There was no angler about in the river. It was very quiet. The water level was further 50cm lower. The boiling water named Sawada Pool later and the shallow part downstream had very different flow from the nearby stream. Making sure of that, I prepared for fishing. Then I stood at the bank with a landing net I had carried with me for the first time.

I had to place the net somewhere. Leaning it against the bank just up the boiling water, I stood in front of my border stone as usual and stared at the water in front of me.

The water of Lundasokna flowing along this bank side was more transparent and still wider than before. That changed my choice of the fly. I put Rose Mary Long-tailed to the leader end instead of Stingray.

As the larger area of the bank was exposed, the river at my feet changed considerably. It used to be an awfully monotonous flow at high water but now the way of flow showed that there were two conical hollows and a shallow part downstream from the border stone. The shallow part was overhanging like a ridge. I fished down carefully not so as to be trapped into the conical hollow.
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Due to the frequent change of the water level I had to put up a lot of twigs on the bank.

There was no fish in the boiling water. Good luck does not often repeat itself (see Part VI). I decided to fish further downstream but thought again, seeing the net I had leaned against the bank.

If I had hooked up a fish so far, I would have fought near the net. But further downstream I would not be able to use the net. Only a narrow range of the bank was exposed downstream and the bank slope was too steep to slide up the fish. There was no helper. If a fish takes my fly now, how will I land it without the net?

It occurred to me that I would climb up the bank to carry the net further downstream. But it seemed a troublesome task. Well, if a fish takes my fly I will do something. I did not carry a net with me until today! Who cares? I started fishing down again.

Although wading was much easier than the previous day, pebbles underfoot were carried away at every step. It was still very hard to wade. Moreover, since the back space was scarce I had to cast the line far away downstream. On casting 30m of the line, I tightened it and kept the fly drifting through the rapid stream.

When I fished down beside the pine tree I remembered that I had felt the pull like a bite on the previous day. What was it actually? I had got a feeling that a fish took my fly but wasn't it true?

Suddenly I got a bite. It was so strong that I felt as if my rod had been snatched. Immediately another 30m of the line were drawn out of the reel with sharp rattle sound.

A fish really stayed here!

Although I did not say that the fish was the previous day's one, I was sure that fish often stayed here. My salmon draw out another 10m of the line and stopped in the stream. I believed that the salmon would not go into muddy water in the heart of the stream. I wondered how to land it. It was impossible to land it without a net here. There might be a gentle slope of the bank somewhere. Why don't you go down with your fish as far as possible, entrusting it to chance? So I said to myself.

-- To be continued --
2003/01/12  KEN SAWADA
Tranlated into English by Miyoko Ohtake