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IMPORTANT
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Fishing in foreign countries
Our May 2005 contribution from Eduardo Marino
When Eduardo Marino, our Argentinian correspondent, was in Europe on business in 2004, he took the opportunity to fish in the UK. Here is his story.
Last May I was invited to fish for trout in a foreign country. The idea of fishing away from home was very enticing and I was full of expectations of unknown, perhaps exotic, landscapes and people. I knew the language all right, but testing it with native speakers seemed like a major challenge.
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An Ephemera Danica |
So I flew there and took a train from the airport to where my friend lives. As soon as I arrived in his hometown I realised people were warm and friendly, the way they always are in remote villages. They do have some surprising ways, like driving on the left side of the road, but after a couple of choked screams, I became used to it. They speak in a lovely way and their accent is marvellous. Actually, they have a right to speak this way. After all, we were in East Anglia, weren't we?
Terry, who had invited me to fish on the river Wensum, drove me from Norwich, a pleasant city I liked very much though I did not have the time to know in details. Then to Reepham, which is also a nice smaller town, quiet and clean, as I have not seen many. I was treated as a friend and a fellow angler (is there a difference between these two categories?). His charming wife proved, as if it was needed at all, that the usual jokes about British cuisine are all wrong.
My first surprise came when Terry told me, after taking a glance at my fly box, that those I had brought were somewhat small. In my Patagonian presumptuousness I had thought that, British rivers being rather small - at least compared to some we have at home - the trout would be small. You know, the usual rule of thumb: smaller flies for smaller trout.
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The river Wensum |
I came to know that the Mayfly, the real one, that hatches in May, in Britain, is not just an Ephemeridae. In American countries, Argentina included, anglers call a Mayfly any insect with upright wings as long as they look like a Mayfly, and most of them are quite smaller that the true one.
We had very interesting conversations and exchange of information and fishing experiences. We also talked a lot about our countries. I found him and his wife to be concerned about the expanding use of GMOs in food. Having been myself a plant breeder in Argentina, we got into some details of what their impact might be on health and environment.
The day after we started walking the banks of river Wensum, a beautiful and peaceful environment. This trout river is completely different from what I am used to in Patagonia.
To begin with, the land is level, there are no mountains in sight but lavish meadows, with cattle roaming close to the river. The water of this well kept river flows gently and, even when not being completely clear, it is clean and trout can be spotted when they are not too deep. The river bottom was fine gravel, not freestone as is the rule in my country. The temperature was pleasant, and - last but not least - there was no wind! Such bliss!
It was still another treat to hear Cuckoos singing close to a trout river and I was delighted to hear them all the time.
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Eduardo Marino |
Our first day was not too productive but the second day we tried a different section of the river, where we saw good trout activity. They were mostly rising very gently. Terry tried his nymphs and landed some good ones but I resorted to my usual dries. I tied on and cast different flies without any success, for a long period.
We then spotted a fish that was taking on the surface. I changed to a good looking Mayfly imitation, size 10 or 8, that Terry had given me, casted it to where we had seen it and - wham - along came my first brown taken in its native environment, a beauty that must have weighted nearly a pound.
After a brief riverside lunch we continued walking by the river, casting here and there without much luck. It seem as if the trout had deserted it. Then Terry said: "Where can all the trout be?" I thought it to be very original a phrase, I had never heard it in my life, and I have fished with many anglers.
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Terry Lawton playing |
After recovering from my surprise I thought that he was quite right - one can never know were the blasted fish are because they are so stealthy, not at all like the always-singing Cuckoo birds!
I recalled then a conversation we had had at Terry's and announced to him that the problem was to be solved. It is as simple as this: we shall take the Cuckoo's DNA, pick up the gene that makes it sing, and splice it into the genome of brown trout. Then we will know where they are all the time for they will have to pop their heads out of the water in order to sing. I take it that Terry was not too convinced of the sanity of my proposition!
On the trip back home I reflected on my luck. It is not often that a Patagonian angler has the opportunity to fish in the homeland of the Brown trout, the country where fly-fishing was brought up to be the sport that we know now. It is not often that I can fish in such a peaceful and beautiful environment, on quiet day and a quiet river. It is not often that one finds somebody who has the knowledge and patience to act as friend, guide and fishing partner and to welcome one to his own home. It is not often to have such a good experience and I am grateful for having had the chance.
Eduardo Marino