Fishing Articles
A Blind Willingness to Fight Fish " No Matter What!"
"One foot to the left or in front of me and I'm
going to disappear!"
Timothy Kusherets
Have you ever thought about the definition of what an adventure really
is? I have, and have found that they’re often created within split
seconds and over before you know it. When in pursuit of fishing we can
sometimes forget that we’re mortal and that risk simply doesn’t
exist in our minds when the entire focus is to find elusive holds that
are hard to get to. It is the focus of finding fish that leads to fighting
them and when you have that kind of determination it leads to a blind
willingness to fight fish no matter what!
“How far are you wading out today?”
“Not too far. I just got these great glasses and I don’t
want to risk getting them getting wet or lost. God knows I’m really
great at losing things and the extended warranty just adds to the cost;
you know, the penny pincher in me.”
“What’s so great about those particular glasses?”
“For starters, they’re for reading, polarized, and I can
convert them back and forth anytime I feel like it.”
“Timothy, if I were you, and I’m not, there’s no way
I would have thought about taking glasses like those to a river like
this, especially if they cost a lot of money. The water’s really
moving.”
“The only thing I’m worried about is the fish and besides
I won’t put them on till dawn. Are you ready to head out?”
“I’ll wait until the sun comes up if you don’t mind.
Don’t worry about me. Head out if you think the fish will bite
before light.”
“If you come out before sunup don’t shine the light on the
river okay? I don’t want the fish scattering once I find them.”
I headed out into the dark and made my way to the drop-off that held
fish day or night. It was then that I started to think about the trip
there.
It took Mike and me over two hours to get to the river. The early morning
hours meant that the roads were relatively clear of traffic, good for
us bad for the fish. We’d been talking about superstitions and
one in particular stuck in my mind; it was about seeing animals alongside
the road just before getting to wherever we were going. Over the last
couple of years each time we saw animals we hooked into fish hand-over-fist.
It’s silly of course, but it happened so routinely that we actually
started looking for them. On this trip, just before we got to the river,
four small rabbits hopped in front of us and it was the only thing I
could think about as I waded further and further into the river.
All of my gear had been setup so I’d be able to tie and retie
my line without turning on the light. With a pole and the reflection
of the moon I was able to see the drop-off where I stopped and got ready.
All the precautions of avoiding snags had been taken care of with a
previous recon trip so the only thing left for me to do was cast out.
The river was flowing from the left to the right so the first cast was
to the eleven o’clock position, which drifted to the two-o’clock
position before reeling in. As the line drifted on down the river the
tension of the line told me exactly where the line was so when it went
limp I set the line and set it hard. A fish on the very first cast!
It raced directly out of the main current towards the drop-off directly
downriver from me and to the right! It had made a ninety-degree run;
I knew it was a Coho! Racing backwards without reeling in the line I
made my way downstream with the rod tip high! It jumped and the shine
of the moonlight showed me that it was bright! It was spinning each
time it jumped and each time it did I’d put the rod tip down reel
like crazy while running straight at it! After only a couple of minutes
the fight had worked its way to shallow water where I was able to tail
it; that was when turning on the light was an option for getting the
hook out of its mouth. Hooking into fish in the dark had become standard
procedure for me over the years so getting back to fishing was just
as fast as the fight.
At the crack of dawn Mike made his way out to the hold.
“Hey. How many fish have you hooked into? Now and again I’d
see a light turn on. Does that mean you had any luck?”
“Seventeen so far and the real good fishing should be picking
up soon. Get down below me and we’ll horde the spot for as long
as possible.”
He was an excellent fishermen and his hook-to-land ratio was actually
better than mine so by the time noon had rolled around we had attracted
some unwanted attention from a lot of fishermen forcing me to come up
with alternatives. We had landed many fish and we wanted to keep it
up.
“It’s getting a little crowded around here. I’m going
to head upstream. You want to stay or come with me?”
“I think I’ll watch you first and see how deep you get.
Sometimes you get into some pretty treacherous water and that’s
water I’d just soon avoid…if you don’t mind?”
As I progressively waded upstream, about fifty-yards or so, the river
began to rise up past my waist and the speed picked up along with it
which is why I stopped when the river got near the top of my chest waders.
“Hey tough guy! Why’d you stop?”
It looked as though Mike was hollering at the top of his lungs, but
I could barely hear him over the roaring river.
“One foot to the left or in front of me and I’m going to
disappear! You going to catch me if I float downriver?”
“No, I’ll just cast out and try to reel you in! Maybe one
of these other guys has some heavy test and they can reel you in! Ha,
ha, you’re just funning me right? Be careful!”
Famous last words “be careful”. How careful can you be in
a raging river if you’re underneath it? There were fish in the
water and I intended to catch some away from the advancing glut of fishermen;
which had turned into about fifteen anglers’ shoulder-to-shoulder.
I could see some of them meander up my way but most stopped about twenty-yards
short; guess they didn’t like the idea of slipping.
The luck I’d been having was predominantly along the seam of fast
and slow water, but I knew to hit into the big boys I’d have to
fish the faster deeper water.
On the far side of the river I could see a seam forming below some riffles
just above a pool that slicked up with deep fast water. It looked perfect.
I cast out and hit the surface past the seam about ten o’clock.
Reeling in the slack I watched as my neon bright line drifted into the
seam for a great presentation. It was nearly the perfect drift when
the line stopped moving. Setting the hook, I held on and waited. Nothing
happened. I reset the hook again and still nothing happened. It was
a sure sign of being hung up or snagged. Right at that moment it occurred
to me that I would have to break off the line when it started heading
towards me. Raising the rod over my head I began reeling in the slack
as fast as I could when a fish jumped out the water and shaking its
huge Chinook head! The Lunker seemed to break the sound barrier with
my six-pound test! That’s right, can you believe it? Fishing with
light line, it was never the intention to be chest deep fishing for
the whoppers! I was sure it was going to get away! As it screamed on
by me I stretched out my rod as far as it would go in front of me to
try and tease the fish inshore and away from the drop-off; it was then
that I took great notice of the edge! The two huge boulders I’d
been on were the last ones before the abyss, but it was too late even
as I thought about it. Instantly I was in the water, completely submerged,
and headed downstream with the whopper that promised stories to last
a lifetime! The idea of heading downriver “below” the surface
that “now” seems to be significant to me and the lack of
fear for drowning that never occurred to me shows me the grim determination
I’d had on that day.
“Hey! Where the heck did he go? Did any of you guys see that?
Did he fall in? He just seemed to vanish! What are we supposed to do?
Can anyone do anything?” Mike was in a panic…the same panic
I probably should have been experiencing.
“Well for Christ’s sake! Take a look at that! Is that what
I think it is? Hey buddy, you better take a look at your fishing partner,
or at least what’s left of him!” A fisherman who had been
near Mike, when I went down, yelled at him to look at what was coming
downriver.
There I was fighting my fish about nine feet below the surface with
the tip of my rod just above the surface; which was the only thing Mike
could see of me. The speed of the current along the drop-off kept me
in the upright position practically allowing me to run beneath the surface.
Time seemed to slow and all I could do was think about fighting that
fish and nothing else. It all seemed so natural. Off in the short distance
was a hill of boulders coming up on me fast! Lifting my legs and holding
the rod out, and to the left. There wasn’t a moment to lose! Each
step had to be perfect or I would hit the main current and drown in
the raging white water on the other side of seam! I braced my legs for
the impact that was sure to hurt near the surface! I knew it would feel
like a jump and I also knew it was going to hurt! I literally ran up
the hill! Putting my legs out on top of the algae covered boulders,
directly in front of me; I broke through the surface where I could clearly
see the edge of the drop-off! Falling to the left, with my rod up high,
I stumbled to my knees and looked off to the distance to see my fish
far out on the other side of the river! I could tell that the battle
was long from over!
Suddenly, there was Mike along side me while the other fishermen applauded.
“I don’t know how you do it! It was the most remarkable
thing I’d ever seen and funny too! It was like something out of
the movies! If I live to be a thousand years old, I think the only way
I’m ever going to see something insane like that again is if you
do it again! What in the heck were you thinking?”
Mike was breathing so hard you’d think he had just gone down the
river. Without saying a word I headed on downriver without losing a
stride leaving him to scratch his head!
I had to concentrate on the behemoth, which was about to make his way
into even deeper water around a huge bend! A bend that was insurmountable!
There was no way I was going to get the fish if it made it there! There
was only one thing to do and it meant risking everything! I flipped
the bail open and ran! In my waders I ran as fast as I could to make
my position parallel with the bend in the hopes of heading off the Chinook
and tricking it into thinking that the fight had changed directions
to below the fish rather than above it! It was always a gamble and it
had always worked, but that didn’t make my heart beat any less
faster!
Reeling in the line as fast as possible I watched as the line finally
caught up to me and began to turn upriver and get tight! It worked out
perfectly because there was no more room to run! The line had tangled
around a boulder and snagged! It was inconceivable! There it was snagged
in the fast water and just above it was the king salmon flailing about
near the surface fighting line that promised to break at any moment!
Tired, I was so tired of running and fighting and to add to it I was
no overcome with frustration! “Should I just call it quits and
break the line? What the heck is there left for me to do?” Six-pound
test, that’s all it was and the line had gone through hell up
to that point! How much more could it take? I didn’t know. So
I took a breath and headed back up river keeping the line as tight as
I could!
Just as I got even with the snagged boulder I put the rod up as high
as I could and reset the hook! Nothing! I set the hook again and still
nothing! I decided that I’d give it one more try before breaking
off. Wading out into the river as far as I could I reeled in any slack
that formed and stopped at the drop-off once again and flipped the bail
for the last time!
The line formed a belly in it and curved near the surface getting ahead
of the snag with the fast water! Flipping the bail closed, the line
had gone back down to the bend, I began to reel in! I watched as the
line made its way back to the snag and held my breath as the reeling
began to feel like panic! The line was cutting through the water like
a knife and the ripping sound told just how fast I’d been reeling
when it occurred to me the line had gone past the boulder and up to
the fish!
Hot dog! The fight was back on and talk about luck taking a turn, this
fish came out of the fast water as though it was as tired as I was!
As a matter of sheer curiosity, I reeled in the line, as it came in,
to feel the abrasions that was sure to be there! Nothing had happened
to the line at all…that is…until there was about twenty-feet
of left!
Just one thing! Couldn’t one thing go right that didn’t
involve some kind of crazy stunt? The exasperation was so intense that
I began to physically wretch! It was the coupe de grats! If the line,
fish, or river didn’t get to me then I guess it just made sense
that my body would betray me and fail…why not, everything else
had gone wrong?
The fight had been going on for over an hour by that point so it really
made sense that the moment the huge fish got out of the fast water that
it headed straight for the bank, which was still no small feet since
I had to keep constant “Light” tension upriver from whatever
position that darned fish put me into! The whole thing felt personal
to me and the longer we fought the more I was sure that it had intentionally
decided to torture me.
Suddenly it came to the surface and floundered! Turning on its side
it floated at the surface gasping for air opening and closing its mouth
quickly! “Not like this! Don’t you dare do that to me! Not
like this! You’re not going to die on me before I get my hands
on you to put you back! Catch and release, catch and release, that’s
all I wanted!” Throwing down the rod I jumped into water that
was much deeper than I’d thought! I had to swim out to the fish
in my waders, which were quickly filling to get to the fish that seemed
to want the anguish of this particular fight to never end! I didn’t
have to go far before I was able to grab it by the tail…that huge
tail and head in towards the bank! Making it to the side of the river
I was unable to get both the fish and myself out, so, there in the river,
I began to resuscitate it by moving it back and forth! The peduncle
(tail wrist) was gigantic, even for the size of this fish, which couldn’t
have been less than fifty-inches! An hour, I spent an hour with it in
the water. Sometimes it would feel as though it was fine and I’d
let it go only to watch it sink. Each time it would go to the bottom
I’d have to swim out, grab it, and head to the bank to start the
whole process all over. Looking into the eye of the great fish I watched
as bubbles began pouring out of its mouth. It was finally dead. I’d
done everything I could to bring it back to life, but in the end the
battle had been a draw. Even though it had died I still considered it
a draw with all it had put me through.
Tailing it, I cleaned it, gathered up the gear and headed back up to
Mike, which had turned into about a mile downriver. With the huge fish
in hand it took about forty-five minutes to get back.
I saw Mike running down to me yelling all the way.
“I thought you were dead! You know the only thing any of us saw
was the damned tip of your rod? That’s it, nothing else just the
tip of your damned rod! Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”
“It died in my hands. Can you believe it?”
“Sorry about that. I know how you feel about catch and release.
It did put up one great fight for you though didn’t it?”
“There is no way I could have asked for more. You know what’s
really funny? I still have my hat and glasses. I don’t know how
long I was actually in the water but the fact that I still have those
says to me that the scene where the fisherman jumps into the river and
pops back up with his hat says to me that I could really happen. Do
you know the movie I’m talking about?”
“Every fisherman does, but what were you thinking?”
“That’s just it. I didn’t think at all. The only thing
I knew for sure is I wanted to get that fish and nothing else. I suppose
nothing else mattered…at the time.”
“You’re nuts! I’ve seen you do crazy stunts before,
but I don’t want to see that again! I respect your abilities but
I’d prefer it if you didn’t show a blind willingness to
fight fish, no matter what, that kind of thinking could get you killed.”
We talked about it many times since then and the memories will last
for the rest of our lives but then again, that’s what an adventure
is all about isn’t it? Mike wanted to know if I had to do it all
over again would I. I told him that I’d have to wait until the
next time because I couldn’t honestly answer him until that critical
moment came. After all, those kinds of decisions are made in spit seconds
and an honest fisherman would not be able to answer the question until
he’s faced with the possibility of the adventure and not one moment
sooner.
© Timothy Kusherets, 2004/09
|
