Written by Keisuke Kimura

One photo I found while scouring data in the cloud was dated July 18, 2018. It was just before the municipal elementary school in Sapporo went on summer vacation. In it is me, wearing an old cotton fishing vest, camouflage gloves on my hands, and holding a rainbow trout with a smile on my face. Lame, to say the least.

In the spring of that year, a certain teacher transferred to the elementary school where I worked. He was at least a year older than I was, and at the welcome party he introduced himself.

“My hobby is fishing. I quit my job once because I liked fishing so much.”

I immediately asked him,“What kind of fishing do you do?”

He said, “I fish for everything, but I think I fish for flies the most.”

I think this was the moment that opened the door to my fishing world.

At the time, all I wanted to do was take my fly rod to the river near my house and catch young rainbow trout. 30 cm was a big fish, and I had never thought of fishing from morning till night.

He heard me talking about it and invited me to go fishing for big rainbow trout. It was the first time for me to go fly fishing with someone. We went to a river in the Sorachi area. The meeting time was around 3:30 am. I was surprised because I was always a morning person, but I nodded my head in agreement.

On the day of the meeting, we met up, changed cars, and drove along the road as it was getting light. What did we talk about in the car? I can't recall now, but I am sure we were talking about the same things as usual: “There are fish like this in that river,” “I fished with a fly like this,” “The river I just saw looks nice.”

The river I arrived at was many times wider than the rivers I had fished before, and its beautiful and abundant water was flowing freely. I was filled with anticipation that there would be big rainbow trout over 50 centimeters in size, and anxiety about whether I would be able to fish as I expected in a river of this size.

I was given a spot right after I started fishing. I swung the rod and shot the fly and managed to just barely reach the lane I was aiming for. The loop must have been messed up and the fly must have been dragging. But when he saw my cast, he said to me, “If you can cast that hard, I'm sure you can catch fish today. My expectations were raised at once.

Then, I was astonished by his cast. A beautifully tight loop. A line that extended smoothly in a constant rhythm. And above all, his appearance. I would rather watch him fish than swing a rod myself. That's what I thought. After fishing several points, his fly splashed out of the water and disappeared at the head of a small pool. After fighting happily without panicking, he put the fish in the net, which was a rainbow trout of less than 50 centimeters. The big and beautiful fins, the red cheeks, and above all, the big and strong body of the fish. Everything was a shock.

"It's a nice rainbow trout, typical of this river.”

He said calmly. And again, "Here's the fly I just caught. You can have it.”

He handed me a Marshmallow Beetle. It was the fly that became one of my most used flies from that day until now.

After that, he generously gave me various advices, such as “Your rod is lying down too much on the back cast,” “You are using a lot of power on the last shot,” and “It's hard to catch the drag if you drop the line like this on the surface of the water. "
He gave me a lot of advice, and I was able to cast and present the fly as I wanted to.

Finally, the long-awaited moment came at the point where I fished upstream. It was a point where the current was on the right bank of the river and there was a bedrock near the bank, which formed a deep area.

"There are often good fish here,”he said. Try casting."

I gave him the marshmallow beetle I had just received. Then a big shadow slowly floated up and took the fly in its mouth. I honestly don't remember much from that point on. It was the first strong pull and weight I felt. The sound of the reel reversing. The fact that I couldn't breathe properly and the fact that the line was wrapped around my leg just before landing. I think it must have been a very ugly fight, but somehow I managed to put it in the net. The fish was more wild and robust than any fish I had ever caught. It was a little over 40 centimeters. I don't think it was that big now, which makes me feel indescribable, but it was a big record for me that day. I told him, “Congratulations. But you're taking too long. It would be better for the fish if you try to catch them sooner.” 

Although I only caught one big fish that day, he caught two other rainbow trout of the same size (around 50 cm). Of course I was envious of him, but I also wanted to go fishing with him again. When it was getting dark, we finally finished fishing and headed home. I was very tired, but my mind was full of thoughts of that rainbow trout.

I think this was the real beginning of my fly fishing.

I remember those days, and I think I should visit that river again.