Brownie

The wind blew constantly all night long. I woke up in the middle of the dark ... I fished it again!

It had been already 30 days since I started dreaming about a pristine big brown trout: a fish that lives in few environments, a brown of the Limay River in Argentina.

I shared my dream experiences with my friends. It's crazy, but I had dreamed with all kinds of fishing situations that happened later. I'm sure someone has gone through the same situation.

With the first lights I got into the water and landed a small brownie. I kept fishing with my friends at the river keeper's pool that had been holding fish over the last couple of days. Nothing  happened.

We went back to the hotel for breakfast. It turned to be an everlasting meal as we started a long and interesting chat and a tying session as well.

It was almost three o'clock in the afternoon and I could feel tickles and a light sweat on my hands, the fish was calling.

I hastened my friends to go to the river. With the thermos filled with hot water we walked towards the mouth of the Limay River, located 1000 meters from our hotel. When we got there, the wind was hellish and the lake had turned deep blue.

We got to see a school of browns from the road bridge. The majority of the fish weighed 3 to 4 kilos and was located upstream close to Neuquén's bank. They moved very actively. A fisherman caught one that jumped dramatically out of the water. We congratulated him and took some pictures.

During the last few days I noticed that many fishermen used white flies, and after watching them for a while I hit upon the virtues they had.

A few days ago, my friend Carlos Vidal, lost a big one in the middle of the branches beneath the bridge. It jumped like a dolphin and broke the line escaping desperately.

I scrutinized the area in front of the tree but I did not see the fish. I was not worried; I could feel the beast and I were already connected somehow.

I returned to the car and assembled my gear. I changed the tippet to 20 pound test Maxima and tied an articulated black fly 6" long. A fly that Carlitos gave me last year stating: "With this fly, we bring to light the big ones". It was a very big fly so I needed to tie it with an improved clinch, as I wanted its quickest response to my commands.

I got down on Rio Negro's side because I knew from there I would achieve the best presentation to the fish that was holding in front of the tree. I had studied the place and its currents for days, having the chance to observe how lots of different feathers passed by.

I could feel my pulse was racing, the river transmitted thousands of different feelings, it was hard to stay calmed and rationalize what I was living. If I became euphoric, for sure I was not going to fish a thing.

I checked the knots again and stretched the running monofilament carefully. I stood over a brilliant black stone, knowing the deal was going to be closed from there. Having a high cliff behind, I took the opportunity to execute a shot that Willy Ricigliano taught me many years ago. I enjoyed executing that complicated cast with ease after lots of practice.

Carlos hooked a fish on the opposite bank, I paused  to observe the situation, and felt a big gratitude.

I made  several casts; the line  descended from  the high back and  traveled parallel to the water. The fly  went as far as I  imagined. I was so grateful to lidocaine for keeping my  hand  safe; a few days ago  I had burned  it badly with boiling water.

Luis  turned up taking pictures, we  chatted  briefly, and I did one more cast...

The line flew 25 meters  downstream with an angle  of 45°, the fly  landed 10  meters upstream from the  tree. When  I  tried to move the fly I distinguished the monster as it was coming for it. It sprayed water  in every possible direction with its  huge tail. I set the hook by pulling  with the left  hand as the heavy fish swam to the bottom. I had no time  to  think as  it rapidly moved  downstream between  the tree and the  bridges column. I held the rod strongly, trying to  turn  its head towards me. Luckily it turned (100% by chance) and came  upstream.

He would have won if he swam one more meter downstream...

I shouted at Luis like never before!

I could see  how tight the line  was because of the pressure the fish  was doing while it swam beyond my  position and anchored 20 meters upstream. Without forcing it to turn downstream, I slowly took him off balance until he got tired. Angry with the situation  he made  several  short runs  upstream and into the center of the river. All of a sudden he  made one single, extra-heavy jump.

After a couple of minutes  I was able to  pull the fish closer. Now I was in the middle of a dilemma. On the one hand, if I walked  up the beach for sure I wasn't going to be able to hold him by the tail; on the other  hand, if I brought him close with the rod I could break it because of the forced angle. So, I picked the second choice, I was not going to give the beast a chance to roll in shallow waters.

The move was happily successful; I grabbed him by the tail on the first try.

Luis took some photos, and we said goodbye to the dreamt trout.

After several days of fishing as a team in the river, we celebrated  with great joy  our triumph.
I couldn´t explain why, but I knew that was my trout, one of those feelings that  occasionally  invade  us.

Please practice Catch & Release

Tight lines