Fishing the day away

Todd referenced this blog, but I got a little tired the other night and didn't quit finish, so with all anticipation....here it is! Our extra day in dingy Puerto Montt turned into a great unexpected surprise; a day fly fishing! Todd with no experience and me, a tad rusty but full of heart and we were ready to go. A quick internet search for a guide led us to John; a transplant from Indiana now living in Chile who runs a b&b and also guides. The weather in this part of the world is fickle: one day four seasons. So, we packed up with enough layers for a blizzard we set off to Rio Maullon.

Todd had quizzed me on the basics of fly fishing. A couple of quick terms later like rod vs. pole, flies vs. bait and we were ready. John readied the boat and we were off. Todd got a quick demo and the time to play was upon us. The first casts were rough, but it felt great to get the rhythm back again. The river was full of brown and rainbow trout, but the browns are predominant. They live deep in the cold water. Meaning the flies must drop low, be pulled in quickly (stripped) to resemble the movement of a crayfish, and then you do it all again and again. So we were casting and stripping, casting and stripping our way down the river.

Now, this river is completely lined with trees both on the banks and in the water. Neither good for the flies or the line. Our casualties were numerous, back cast casualties if you will. And also snags, oh, the snags, hard to get your line deep with lots debris in the river. Todd was a natural with a beautiful cast, a hard thing for beginners but that's my guy for you. The browns were a bitin' for him. I on the other hand was a frustrated mess. At lunch the count stood at Todd, enough: Erin, zero.

A nourishing lunch must have been the trick or maybe it was the beer and Camembert. Either way I got my fish, finally.

An unabashful dance of joy later and I was happy to be a part of the fish catching club. We drifted down the river enjoying the wonderful sunshine, the lucky sunshine.

The tide was high, thus effecting the height of the river. For an inland fisher this was a weird thing to consider, but down here, obviously a common occurrence. At this point, the fish were out of reach so John hooked up his 2hp motor and we tootled down river to the take out. We packed up the car and secured the boat,it was time to go.

John had to get back in time for his daughter to receive an award at school and at after all it was already 6:30pm. I don't know that Todd fell in love with fly fishing today, but at least he had a chance to give it a go and a good go at that. Either way he will be ready for our summer in Idaho, where I plan on having more wonderful days like today.

Now, since I wrote this a couple of days ago and am now posting it, I have a little hindsight. Heavy line and lots of line stripping equal ouchy fingers or more specifically, sprained, painful finger, for me my ring finger left hand, Todd left pointer finger. This is a pathetic thing to admit, but for the last week both Todd and myself have been suffering from this intense fishing experience. My dad assured me it was because of our poor fishing technique, I simply suggested it may have been my teacher. Either way it was all worth it!