"Big Gulps"
Part 2: Saturday
I finally had some free time... Saturday night I was scheduled to go to the McGregor v. Mayweather fight with my brother. He called around 3:00 p.m. and asked if I want to hit the water, then we planned to go straight to the fight party. I quickly arranged for a sitter (thanks again, Aunt Lesley) and gathered my stuff. The water we hit is definitely not "holy water."
It's a stretch on which my brother and I cut our teeth as boys. It's a nasty bit of polluted trash-water to be honest. From time to time this stream will produce quality fish though and today, it was the only water for which we had sufficient time.
About 30 minutes in, I found the first fish on a streamer, then I found another 15" fish with the same fly. My brother contemplated switching from topwater, but I talked him out of it since I only had two fish. We finally got to some moving water, which is a spot I know well. Jeremiah was fishing out front and put the fly right on a spot that's known to hold big fish. Right on cue a fish climbed the ladder and ate big. Jeremiah played him well and brought the 17.5" smallie to hand. We both thought he would be longer than 18" just based on his fight and strength, but the measuring board doesn't lie. I'm not going to lie either, I started to get fussy. Jeremiah has caught bigger fish than me on the past few outings and it was looking like he was going to this time as well. I put on a black popper and began working parallel to a rock-lined bank with Jeremiah following closely behind.
We were in some deep water at this point. Deep for this river, anyways. I put one cast in a pocket where the bank dips into itself and just let the popper sit. Jeremiah was over my left shoulder coaching my cast. I let the popper sit for about 8 seconds when the water exploded. My popper had just been eaten by something BIG. A big wake came shooting toward the middle of the river and I give it a two count before jacking my hook sideways into the sweet spot. The speed at which this fish was stripping line was alarming. I thought it might not be a Smallie at all. Jeremiah said, "if that's a smallie, he's a monster." Sure enough, she came out of the water and we knew we had a monster small jaw for any river, but especially this trash water.
One would think that after landing thousands of Smallies on the fly, it would be like a well-oiled machine when the big boys are on the line... Well, it's not. I put the fish on the reel, but I was chest-deep in the river and didn't have my landing net on my pack that night. The bank on both sides was steep, which meant I couldn't slide him onto a sandbar either. About 3 minutes in, I had to go with the old fashioned headlock landing method. We climbed the bank with the fish for a grip and grin and put her back. The Smallie measured 19.25" of pure muscle. Jeremiah ended up wth 4 x fish around the 17" mark and I ended up with Smallies measuring 15, 16, and the big fish at 19".
