Written By Shota Igarashi

I have a fly fishing mentor.

He has taught me not only about fly fishing, but also about the way I look at all things, values, and a lot about the world and culture that I never knew existed. He is probably one of the most influential people I have had in my working life. I love spending time with him and hope to continue our relationship. And I am so grateful to have a mentor in fly fishing, which is such an infuriatingly deep game.

Whenever he and I meet, we always talk about fishing. The other day, I caught a rainbow trout at the first point of the river I entered, and I thought it was about 50 cm, but it was as big as 60 cm. It was the first fish I caught that day...” ”It's about time, the snowdrift has receded in that river, isn't it? We often talked about such things willy-nilly.

He was the reason I started fly fishing, and he taught me so many things. But to tell the truth, I have never fly-fished with him. Of course, I would walk the river with him if I could. But that has never happened, and probably never will. I am sure it will be difficult. Because he retired from fly-fishing a long time ago, because of his age, and above all, because of his physical condition.

But why is this suddenly a contradiction in terms? I have the feeling that I have gone fishing with him on many occasions. I have the feeling that we have spent a lot of time together, loving nature, and when either of us caught a fish, we would run to it and enjoy the fish as it thrashed about. And it's a solid, tactile sensation that makes me grin when I imagine it. If you like fishing, you will understand. It's that feeling that makes you grin when you remember it.

I now love fly fishing and go to the river in my spare time, but tenkara was the start of my “hair hook fishing”. My father was also a big fan of fishing, but it was bait fishing in the ocean. I remember he took me fishing many times, but that was in my early elementary school days, and I have no memories of fishing after that. Since then, I have not been involved in fishing for a long time.

However, among the people I talked with as an adult, there were probably a few people who were fishing. I suddenly had a chance to listen to a conversation about fishing with a “hair hook. I was so busy listening that I could not even remember who was speaking, but it was vaguely in a corner of my mind.

One day, he told me, “You can buy a rod for a few thousand yen at Amerika-ya (a fishing tackle store next to Sapporo Station), so why don't you start with that? I was told by a person who fished tenkara. At the time when I had no money, I had a vague idea of fishing with a hair hook in a corner of my mind, and I thought I might be able to do it without spending too much money. That is what moved me.

I am the type of person who acts as soon as I have an idea, so I immediately went to an American shop. America Ya? What a strange name, I thought. However, although it was a good thing I went there, I didn't know what was right or left. I asked the clerk and bought a set of waders for 5,000 yen, a tenkara rod for about 4,000 yen, and three hair hooks.

A few days later, I went to a river about 20 minutes from my house by myself. It was an urban river that I sometimes pass under a bridge. I didn't know how to swing the hook, but suddenly I felt a splash! and the fly moved at the same time. However, after throwing it several times at the same spot, I got no response.

I wasn't sure if it was a fish or not, but when I lifted my rod at the same time as the splash, a fish was hooked. When I managed to bring it to my hand, it was a beautiful landlocked salmon. The beauty of the fish reminded me of my childhood love of nature, which I had almost forgotten, and from then on I was completely captivated by river fishing. Since then, I have always found myself alone in strange rivers and tried my hand at fishing.

I had been fishing tenkara on my own for less than half a year when I was talking with a friend at a café about fishing I had just started. Suddenly, an elderly man asked me, “Do you fish? He was the owner of the café. The older man was the owner of the cafe.

He said, “Tenkara is so simple and nice, isn't it?" I am a bit shy, so I felt a bit embarrassed and smoky when a stranger spoke to me. That was my first conversation with him.

From then on, he talked to me about fly fishing several times when I visited the café. He told me about the equipment and how he fishes. I thought,  "Well, it sounds interesting, but it looks kind of difficult."

One time, I guess it was around 8pm after work. I stopped by the store and had a cup of coffee. Gradually, the customers began to thin out, and when I was the last customer, he brought out a fly rod from the corner of the store and showed it to me.

I had seen pictures and photos of fly-fishing equipment before, but this was the first time I had held a fly-fishing rod in my hands. Cool. I genuinely thought so, and it tickled my boyish heart.

He said.'Want to try casting out there?'

I felt a mixture of fear that I might accidentally break something and embarrassment. Let's try it outside. But it was just an unpopular street in front of a store. And it was dark, with only the street lights on. I remember it was after the rain. The road was still damp and the air was cool.

First he showed me a sample of his casting, and my mouth dropped open. It was so...beautiful. The fly line, illuminated by the lights of the streets, would occasionally glint and shimmer, and then, swoosh, swoosh, as if guided by something, it would arc forward and backward, stretching and stretching.

Then, the straight line falls softly to the ground.

He showed me several times with explanations, then let me hold the rod and taught me how to fish with it.

That was the first time I swung a fly rod.

He must have heard that I grew up in a place rich in nature, loved insects in my childhood, and enjoyed gathering mushrooms and wild vegetables with my father and grandfather. He must have heard that I loved insects growing up in a rich natural environment and enjoyed gathering mushrooms and wild vegetables with my father and grandfather. I think he thought that this young man would like fly fishing, and that is why he told me about it. I don't know if he was right or not, but I was hooked.

After that, I would stop by the store and tell him about the fish I had caught and the things that had happened to me. Each time he would give me some tips or technical information, and I would try them out on my next fishing trip. Of course, it was because he trusted me. He also gave me information about the river.

He has been retired from fishing for quite a long time, but he tells me about the fish he caught and what happened on the river as if it was yesterday. No, he talks to me as if he were there with me right now. He was smiling and happy.

He said, “In that tributary of the river, there was a pairing of big char."

"The river bed there is really wonderful, isn't it?"

Sometimes he would rummage through an old map book from the back of the store and say,
“See this bridge? You see this bridge here?" Every time I hear him speak, I picture the scene in my mind. I can imagine the appearance of the char he caught and the texture of the fish when I touched it with my hand.

He sometimes says things like, “I'm thinking of swinging at Lake Shikotsu this year,” or “I can do it there, too,” but I have never heard him actually go there. I don't want to put it into words, but when I hear him talk about it, I feel a little bit of a pang in my chest.

If it comes true someday, I would like to fish with him. No, we can just stand on the river. We don't have to walk.What I remember most is that he talked about fly-fishing so happily and said in a whisper, “Fly-fishing is just an addition to walking on the river. I am sure that is true, and I am sure it is not. And I think everything is in those words. I can only imagine a little of what he valued in fly fishing.

I hope he will always be in good health.I want him to talk to me as if it happened yesterday, as if we were looking at the river right in front of us.And let's continue to go fishing together over coffee at the counter.