SEVERAL years ago I had planned a mid-winter trip to fish for trout in a lake not far from where I live in Canberra.
The lake is a tough fishery but held some very big trout. My mission was to try and get a double figure trout on fly.
My good mate Brett was going to meet me at my place at 4:30am. I woke to a howling gale and sleet showers peppering my glass doors. I had breakfast and a cuppa while I waited for Brett. We’d decide what to do once he arrived … 4:30 came and went. At 4:55am I decided I would go anyway without Brett and despite the weather.
The hour long drive had me second guessing the entire way. The car was getting buffeted and I could see trees leaning savagely in the wind. Globules of sleet were piling up on the edge of the windscreen.
I pulled into the car park while it was still dark and very windy. I sat in the car for a while contemplating my next move. I finally decided that I had made the journey so it was time to get out and face the music.
I jumped out and got kitted up into my waders and very warm clothing. I then started rigging up my fly rod. I put it together, attached the reel and started feeding the line through the guides. To make it easier for myself I placed the butt section of the rod into the back canopy of my ute.
As I was reaching the tip a gust of wind roared through and slammed the tailgate closed, chopping my fly rod in half! I stood in disbelief for a moment before noticing another car had pulled into the car park. It was Brett. He had slept in but as reliable as ever, had lived up to his commitment. He didn’t laugh when he found out about my rod but he may have wanted to!
He explained that he didn’t have a spare rod and neither did I. However, I did pack a spinning rod just in case the winds were so bad that it made fly fishing impossible. I rigged it up with a Baby Merlin minnow in rainbow trout pattern and walked to the water’s edge. Brett and I started fishing quite close together but I was not feeling very confident given all that had happened so far.
After a few minutes of casting my lure came to an abrupt halt and I knew instinctively that it was a fish. A few head shakes told me it was a big one. It was still quite dark due to the hour and the heavy cloud cover but I could see the size of the boils the fish was making. In what seemed like an eternity, the fish surged and powered away until I got it quite close to the shore.
We then got a good look at it for the first time.
Both Brett and I thought “^%&^%&#! that’s a big trout!!”
It took one final surge into some bullrushes before Brett launched himself on it and had the beast by the tail. At the time it was my biggest trout and capped off a trip that I will never forget. We admired it and took several photos before slipping him back into the inky black water to fight another day.
I wonder if I would have caught that fish if I had been using my fly rod?
