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The water is clear, cold and very low. Conditions demand more from me. In the first pool, I see a rainbow that is close to thirty inches. I have seen him before. I am in the open. I freeze, but he see's me and slips back under a boulder the size of a car. It has begun, I catch a few and move to the next pool.
During the day, I walk for hours, slowly, focusing on my body movements and breath. I fish select water and stick to my two fish per pool rule (I don't like to pressure fish with extreme low water conditions). With a tight-line nymph rig, action is steady, but fish are small. A large fish has been no more than twelve inches. I am patient and enjoying the day. I continue stalking, hunting for the BPB = BIG Patagonia Brown. Finally, along a wall, at the tail end of a deep pool, I see a dark object. My instincts tell me to freeze. My eyes are pierced, focusing on this object. Is it a stick or a rock, shaped like a fish? A few seconds pass. I see what looks like pectoral fins; large pectoral fins. A few seconds later, it moves. It's a BPB! What next?
It was a perfect spot for a dry fly. Simply cast/bounce it off the cliff wall and drop it in front of his nose. Something in my gut tells me to stick with the nymph. I cast close to him, but not on top of him. On all attempts, he does not move toward the nymph. Fudge it, on the next cast, I slam two split shots and single nymph into his head. He takes it! He spits it! F@#%! Will he take it again, I doubt it. Three cast later, I slam a cast in front of his face. Strip-strip and he's on! Holy Shit!
Final Word
Here in Patagonia, when you can get a BIG wild fish hooked 2x's and landed once, it's time to go to the casino or play the lottery! Thank you mother Malleo. This was an amazing moment for me.
Thanks for reading and hope to see you in Patagonia.
Mark
The water is clear, cold and very low. Conditions demand more from me. In the first pool, I see a rainbow that is close to thirty inches. I have seen him before. I am in the open. I freeze, but he see's me and slips back under a boulder the size of a car. It has begun, I catch a few and move to the next pool.
During the day, I walk for hours, slowly, focusing on my body movements and breath. I fish select water and stick to my two fish per pool rule (I don't like to pressure fish with extreme low water conditions). With a tight-line nymph rig, action is steady, but fish are small. A large fish has been no more than twelve inches. I am patient and enjoying the day. I continue stalking, hunting for the BPB = BIG Patagonia Brown. Finally, along a wall, at the tail end of a deep pool, I see a dark object. My instincts tell me to freeze. My eyes are pierced, focusing on this object. Is it a stick or a rock, shaped like a fish? A few seconds pass. I see what looks like pectoral fins; large pectoral fins. A few seconds later, it moves. It's a BPB! What next?
It was a perfect spot for a dry fly. Simply cast/bounce it off the cliff wall and drop it in front of his nose. Something in my gut tells me to stick with the nymph. I cast close to him, but not on top of him. On all attempts, he does not move toward the nymph. Fudge it, on the next cast, I slam two split shots and single nymph into his head. He takes it! He spits it! F@#%! Will he take it again, I doubt it. Three cast later, I slam a cast in front of his face. Strip-strip and he's on! Holy Shit!
 |
| BPB = Big Patagonia Brown |
 |
| On a nymph. |
Final Word
Here in Patagonia, when you can get a BIG wild fish hooked 2x's and landed once, it's time to go to the casino or play the lottery! Thank you mother Malleo. This was an amazing moment for me.
Thanks for reading and hope to see you in Patagonia.
Mark