“I only fish the dry fly, mainly ants. If the fish like it, good; if not, I don’t care: I sit here, smoke and wait.”Signor Cabila
They say you can enjoy a trip three times: before, during and after. With “before” and “during” posponed, “after” is the last resort now; I start browsing through a heap of pictures that have been waiting for curation for too long a time.
And the mind travels with a hint of nostalgia of places and people. In this way, I recall: remoteness; dawn; solitude; lake; expectation; surprise; fellowship; happiness… Just as it happens with this image.
Chris Dore es uno de los guías mejor considerados de Nueva Zelanda. He tenido la suerte de compartir con él varias jornadas de pesca, comprobando que esa fama es bien merecida. Ahora que por aquellos lares la temporada acaba de empezar, Chris acaba de publicar un corto texto orientativo para pescadores viajeros. Me ha dado permiso para traducirlo, así que aquí está.
Plop! The big brown immediately turns itself and heads toward my little nymph; although not in a hurry, it shows some evident bad intent. A whitish blink from its mouth marks the instant in which the fish stops where —I suspect— my imitation is. When softly tightening the line I activate a mechanism that, at once, gets the fish performing some acrobatics a couple of meters above the water. After the big splash I feel that there is nothing pulling on the end of the line anymore. I smile, though; doubts about our election of this tiny spring creek —nothing but a very short and thin line on a map in a phone— dissipate themselves immediately.
South Island. New Zealand. 2019
What makes a great fly fishing guide?
It is not an easy question, and —who knows—, years ago, my answer would have been different. What I think now is that a top guide is that one who is able of turning a bad catching day into a good fishing session. It is all about the experience, and —in my book— that experience is about finding beauty and learning something in the process.
“A top guide is that one who is able of turning a bad catching day into a good fishing session”
At last! A long and deep pool of gin clear water! After a very long, sweaty hike upstream, where the river looked much more suitable for whitewater sports than for fishing, this was a really relieving view. I started scanning the water in the tail slowly progressing upstream. Nothing. I was close to the head of the pool when I saw the fish: a big brown trout patrolling the slow water in the far bank, lazily taking bites from the full of debris surfaceContinue reading
That above is a common question in fly fishing forums. So common that, in fact, it is the title of a thread I read recently. And the most usual reply to that question goes along these lines: “Most fish are taken within 35 feet.”
But, what happens when the fish are active 20+ meters away? Do you pack all gear and get back home?Continue reading
Plop! La gran trucha vuelve la cabeza de inmediato y se dirige hacia mi pequeña ninfa; sin prisa pero con evidente determinación. Un destello blanquecino de la boca señala el instante en el que el pez se detiene donde —intuyo— se encuentra mi imitación. Al templar la línea activo un mecanismo que, al instante, pone al pez a hacer acrobacias a un par de metros sobre el agua. Tras el salpicón, de inmediato siento que ya no hay nada tirando al otro lado de la línea. Sin embargo sonrío. Las dudas sobre nuestra elección, a puro ojo, de este diminuto spring creek —no más que una corta y delgadísima línea en el mapa— ya se han disipado.
South Island. New Zealand. 2019