The One That Got Away

[seanbritt]

One thing I've noticed since getting back into fly-fishing about two years ago is that no matter how many beautiful fish you catch, or no matter how gorgeous of scenery you spend your time in while fishing, the mind tends to wander back to "the one that got away."

 

I've read a bunch of books whose authors talk about this, but thought it would be a neat thread to see what everyone's individual take on this is.

 

Personally, I think humans have a fascination with the unknown and we are drawn to it like a magnet to metal. This is what inspires so much innovation, but unfortunately also is part of the cause of much of the negative aspects of the world. Anyhow, I look forward to hearing what folks think.....

[bigbowtrout]

I had a monster Rainbow on in New Zealand and it took a very good run on me and eventually broke me off. Still to this day that fish haunts me and I keep running the whole scenario through my head asking what could I have done better to land that fish?

I was so over hyped about New Zealand from all the books and magazines I was reading and looking at picture after picture of monster Browns I was starting to feel down that all I was catching was 18”to 20” Rainbows. As I was sitting having my lunch and looking around at the awesome scenery it clicked in my head that I was an idiot for not realizing how lucky I truly was to be standing where I was. After lunch it was missed fish after missed fish and the guide was getting a bit pissed at my nonchalant style of fishing. (I was just soaking in my surroundings and missing the odd strike) until I decided to get back into the game and that is when I hooked into the big one. It jumped, it ran, it came back at me and then it took off like a rocked down through some boulders and then it broke off. The guide saw it, my Girlfriends dad saw it and they both said it was a very large trout and bigger then any other caught that day.

So just minutes before I was realizing just how lucky I was to be there and the next minute I was beside myself for losing the fish of a lifetime. I can’t explain why but all I know is that life is way to short and the next 10” trout you just land could be your last so just enjoy every trout you do catch and try to enjoy the ones you missed.

 

[Din]

I can’t explain why but all I know is that life is way to short and the next 10” trout you just land could be your last so just enjoy every trout you do catch and try to enjoy the ones you missed.

 

well said...my thoughts exactly

 

Mine would have to big a big pike that I hooked into in the bow. Stripped my fly almost to my feet and then it slammed the fly out of nowhere. Set the hook and my 8wt was doubled over. It sat there for a moment, turned its head and took off, and that was that. It has given me pike fever ever since.

[Keith]

I had a monster Rainbow on in New Zealand and it took a very good run on me and eventually broke me off. Still to this day that fish haunts me and I keep running the whole scenario through my head asking what could I have done better to land that fish?

I was so over hyped about New Zealand from all the books and magazines I was reading and looking at picture after picture of monster Browns I was starting to feel down that all I was catching was 18”to 20” Rainbows. As I was sitting having my lunch and looking around at the awesome scenery it clicked in my head that I was an idiot for not realizing how lucky I truly was to be standing where I was. After lunch it was missed fish after missed fish and the guide was getting a bit pissed at my nonchalant style of fishing. (I was just soaking in my surroundings and missing the odd strike) until I decided to get back into the game and that is when I hooked into the big one. It jumped, it ran, it came back at me and then it took off like a rocked down through some boulders and then it broke off. The guide saw it, my Girlfriends dad saw it and they both said it was a very large trout and bigger then any other caught that day.

So just minutes before I was realizing just how lucky I was to be there and the next minute I was beside myself for losing the fish of a lifetime. I can’t explain why but all I know is that life is way to short and the next 10” trout you just land could be your last so just enjoy every trout you do catch and try to enjoy the ones you missed.

 

I have just about the same story. I caught some nice rainbows when I was living in New Zealand, the biggest probably being about 8 pounds, and I also lost many as well. The fish that always bother me are the ones that you don't see and just seem to have a ridiculous amount of power. One morning, just at sunrise, on the Tongariro I was fishing a pool that I had had success on earlier in the week. After ten or 15 minutes I got a solid take on my nymph and set the hook. My drag was set fairly firm and I had my palm slapped to the reel, but in no more than a couple seconds the fish drug my line diagonal across and upsteam and into an over hanging tree. I had been catching large bows all week with a few above 5 pounds and this one just seemed to have unmatched power. The thing I hate about not seeing it is that we've all had that 16" fish that fights like a 22" fish. Was this a 5 pounder that fought like a 10 pounder or an honest hog. I hate not knowing.

 

I have had a similar experience on the Bow as well. You can tell when you've got into that rare 'oh *hit' fish, because it has no problem taking you upstream or across stream. Most fish will bend under the pressure pretty quick and turn and go with the current. The problem with those monster fish is that they're pretty rare and you're never quite ready for em. If you were on the ball and put serious side pressure on right off the bat then you're ok, but give them little lee-way and it's over. That's why you got fight every hook-up like it's ten pounds until you're sure it's not.

 

 

[headscan]

A while back Gord Kennedy told me that he always roots for the fish. At the time I didn't really get it, but back then I was getting skunked more often than not. Once I started figuring things out and catching fish with a lot more consistency I started to understand what he meant. If I landed every fish I hooked or even worse hooked a fish on every cast then it would take all the fun out of it. For me it's about the chase much more than the numbers, so the one that got away is what keeps me coming back.

[Guest JayVee]

I think we all lose a lot of fish and I've been trying to put a positive spin on that lately. If you've hooked a fish and had at least a bit of a fight with it, it means you've done at least a couple of things right. You've obviously chosen the right fly pattern and you presented it in a way that entices the fish to eat it. That's significant in my opinion. It requires more than a bit of luck to land a fish, especially when you consider barbless hooks and numerous other factors. So it pleases me more and more these days to just have the privilege of duking it out with a scrappy fish that had the misfortune of taking my well placed fly. It still sucks to lose a big fish though, especially when I don't get a chance to have a good look at him and see what he's taken. A picture is always nice too.

[reevesr1]

The one that got away is a BIG part of this game to me. And I love what Headscan said about rooting for the fish. I've never thought of it in that exact way, but I have said "come one buddy, do something" to big fish before. Quite often, when they do decide to "do something", they get the better of me. So be it. To me, one of the greatest thrills is when a big fish gets way out to the river, and I get him back. Mostly, when they get out there, I don't get them back. Again, so be it. I usually let out a groan of frustration, and that frustration may linger for a bit. But the thrill of landing a big fish that raises hell far, far outweighs that frustration.

 

I was out with troutlover one evening and hooked a big, big fish. We never got a look at him (it was dark), but I didn't need to to know he was huge. He dogged it for several minutes before deciding it was time to leave. He took me all the way through my backing and broke me off at the end. Like BBT said, I'm haunted by that fish, but really in a good way. It is a very good memory for me. The awe I felt after the break off will stick with me longer than maybe any fish I've ever hooked, or caught. It is the thrill of the unknown I guess.

[darrinhurst]

Even though I have only been fly fishing for less than a year, I do have that "one that got away". Not necessarily because it was too big to handle, but due to a bit of inexperience and technique, I was taught a very valuable lesson.

 

I am lucky enough to have a job where I alternate working mornings vs. working evenings, when I work in the evening, I don't start until 1:00, so I take the time from when I drop the kids off at day care to hit the Bow to do some fishing. One morning when I was partaking in a quite enjoyable morning, I was casting to some rising fish in a fairly still little pool tailing off a side channel. Little risers everywhere, causing the little splashes here and there. I tied on a caddis and started practising my presentations. Was quite frustrating at first, watching them rise all around my fly, but not TO my fly. Tried some different sizes, and finally (although I think it was luck more than anything as I do believe it was in a "foam bath") I had a nice little rainbow take my fly. Ended up with the one currently in my dipslay picture. Was quite proud of myself catching my first rainbow on a dry, but I wasn't done there.

 

After a few more casts, with no luck, I changed up again. Different colour, slightly larger, but this time when I tied on, I had a feeling that I didn't tie it just right. I gave it a "tug test" and it appeared to hold up ok, but the knot still looked a little funny. I just shrugged it off and began to strip out some line and started my false cast. On about the second attempt, I must have made the perfect cast. The line un-rolled better than it had all morning, and landed in what I deemed to be a perfect spot approaching some risers I was watching that day. All of a sudden, a large, dark shadow, came up and completely nailed my fly. It was like a ninja that thing, came from nowhere, big and dark (I can only guess it was a brown) and hit the fly hard, but with little or no splash. No more than a fraction of a second later, the bend in my rod was gone and so was that fish. I went from exhilarating high, to exasperated low in about the same speed. 0.5 seconds. When I pulled my line in, the end of the leader was all curly like the knot un-did. Ever since, I always give it a tug test and if it doesn't feel or look just right, I cut of and tie again. Fist lost, lesson learned.

 

I always think about that fish, and plan on going there again to get him.

[Parry]

My Story involved me fishing a Deep Deep pool in SW alberta pulling streamers till i hooked something deep in the head of the run in the fast rapids, but i was just stuck. What ever i hooked wasnt moving and about what seemed like 25min of me trying to get free i was thinking i was going to have to break off the hook. Then the most bizzarre thing happened it gave a couple head shakes, then it started to move, then it started to move up threw the rapids with NO resistance at all. I was like OMG i caught the monster from the deep and thought for sure i was landing this thing, then it got tired of me and snapped me off. I got one glimse of it, and it wasnt a very good one but it was big. I think ill stop it there as its post st.pattys day and my head hurts .

[deeboo]

i went to fish the wigwam in fernie this summer, i drove for 5 hours from red deer to get there and spent close to 2 hours trying to get access. i have been trying (with terrible luck) for the last few years to catch a bull trout over 20 inches i have caught a few bulls but mostly tiny ones, i figured with a river that has 10lb bulls i was bound to sucker a nice one into taking my newly tied streamers. i get down to the river and hammer like 30 nice healthy cuts in one pool before i decide its time to get to some bulls, i cast for the next 4 hours and didn't see a single one. i move about 3km upstream till i get to another hole with tons of cutts rising so i switch back to a dry and first cast i hook a nice 18inch cutt, it starts dashing through a relatively small but deeeep pool. and then out of nowhere CAAAAAAABLAAAAAMO a monster bull, and i mean a freaking giant, with a head like a football and a tail like a badminton racket grabs the cutt by the side and proceeds to shake the crap out of it. it chased the cutt for like what seemed like 20 minutes (probably more like 3 or 4) with its last attack happening almost at my feet. to be honest i was scared sh^%less of this thing but i couldnt believe what i had just saw...so i let the cutt go and tied on a double bunny throw out a cast and start stripping it in and then i see this massive shadow move in...get about 3 feet to the fly..then 2 feet..then one...then about 4 inches. my heart is thumping like crazy and i am bracing myself for the hellfire this fish is going to unleash and then....it turns and goes back into the deep. i cast about another half an hour then tie on a clouser, then a wooly bugger, then a dace pattern, then i switched to every other nymph, dry and anything with a hook and fished for 2 more hours catching nothing but cutts and not seeing this thing again, i have never fished so hard in my life for one fish. it started to get dark so i clip my fly and reel in my line and put everything away and walk back to the car heart still racing in the pouring rain. i hop into my car and light a cigar and drive the 6 hours home thinking about what i could have done differently, if maybe i twitched my streamers more, or if i had tied clousers that looked more cuthroaty i would have got the big kahuna. i still think about it when i am out and i just wish i had got a hook into it.

[hopdrop]

She was blonde and dirty......

[maxwell]

the ones taht bust me off take a big run then gone or totally school me haunt me the most forsure!!!!!!!

[Bigtoad]

I've had my fair share of missing big ones. Murphy's law just kicks in and I miss the take, or I screw up the set, or if everything goes really well and I get the beast on, I'll end up getting the line wrapped around my reel, or whatever. I'm a disgrace...

 

Anyway, the one that haunts me the most was on a camping trip my dad and I took down the bow 2 years ago. We had tented the night before and I was up early fishing the inside of a beautiful riffle on a corner. I was in the shallow, still water when I saw a golden stone fall into the water 15 feet upstream of me, splash across the top of the calm water and then Gulp, it was gone. I got excited, gave the fish a few seconds to swallow the stone, and then cast a Chernobyl Ant 3 feet above it, twitched it, and Gulp, it was gone, just like the real one. I set the hook and after a couple minutes I landed a beautiful 21" rainbow.

 

I proceeded to fish the inside of riffle and caught a couple more of similar size. I had made it to the head of the riffle and decided I would throw one out to the outside seam, which was a bit of a reach for me but it hit the seam perfectly. I twitched it, and then what looked like a log floated up from the bottom and stopped 6 inches from my ant. I had made a reach cast upstream and had twitched it upstream but the faster moving middle section of the riffle was eating up my slack line quickly. The monster just floated downstream staying 6 inches from my fly for probably 6 feet and I was desperately trying to keep it drag free for as long as possible. Finally, just as my slack line ran out, it closed the distance and put it's ginormous lips around my fly. He was just closing his trap when the slack went out of the line and the fly popped out of his mouth. I just felt a light tap and he was gone. I got a really good look at him... too good. He was an absolute monster of a brown, easily over 25" and the biggest thing outside of NZ that I've ever seen.

 

When I close my eyes, I can still see that monster mouth closing in on my fly. Another millisecond of drag-free drift and I would have had it... of course, once on, who knows what I would do with something that big???

 

But that fish (and the others like him) are definitely what keep me going. It's the what-could-have-been that keeps me coming back.

[flyangler]

I know where he lives and I'm going back for him. I swear.

 

I skittered a smallish Royal Stimulator past a downed pine thinking "there ought to be a cutt in there." Then, as if somebody standing on the river bottom tossed it straight into the air with both hands, this bull launched out of the water, full body at once. Not head, followed by back followed by tail, like a porpoise, it showed it's full length in one go. This was followed by the awe and disbelief something much bigger than expected will inspire. That my hook came back to me still bent is a source of continued amazement. This was followed by the continuing longing for one more cast at this spot. Pardon the repetition of both the photo and the story.

 

[Brunsie]

A fellow on the BC board has a signature that about sums it all up

quote- "The Tug Is The Drug".

 

We've all lost big fish in the past and will lose more in the future.

The first 10 seconds is where the adrenilin gets pumping. I hate losing fish but even when you lose them, the memory lasts a long time.

Headscan is right. it could get boring if it was easy.

I bet that all of the posters who described losing a fish in such vivid detail don't remember a landed fish that well.

BK

[dube]

Mine would be a cutt on the Blackstone.

 

There is a dynamite hole I found a few years ago, it is just after a mellow corner and along a good cliff bank. The water gets narrow through a boulder garden and has carved a really nice slot at the top of the pool where the big guys like to hang out. If you cast from the inside it's tough to get a good drift down the lane so I usually hobble along a rock ledge and fish the outside, you can cast straight up parallel with the current and dangle it by you and finish the drift to the tail of pool. I had caught 2 average cutts and was feeling pretty lucky because despite what some people might say the fishing on that river sucks don't ever go there . Anyway, I cast right at the top of the pool and got a good drift from top to bottom and nothing. More or less deciding to move on I cast again sort of carelessly letting it drift and had a bit of drag and instantly I got the most aggressive strike on a dry I've ever had. It scared the crap out of me and to be honest had it not hit the hook so hard I would of missed it for sure. So fish on an I actually recall cheering out loud a massive woohoo! Problem was that I was out on a rocky ledge 3 feet off the water and had to get back to the tail of the pool and into the water if I was to have any hope of landing this bugger. Doing so requires the use of at least one hand and making some brief visual contact as to where you are going. So I brought it in close to the rock and pulled the rod up pretty hard and went for the last step which was to be in the water and as I did the change in elevation put enough slack in the line that he spit the hook. I was shaking quite badly and cannot quite recall what I yelled out at that point but it was equally massive. If I had to wager a guess I'd say it was in the low 20's, very nice fish and really deep bodied, the kind you can barely get your mitt around. It was shame but I did have the moment of feeling like the fish got the best of me and was o.k with that.

 

Again it was a "lucky day" and so rare on that river. There are virtually no fish there and plus the access is crap and the only way to get up to the gap is to hoof it from the camp ground. It's a really loooooooong hike for such poor fishing. Lot's of grizzlies too and no cell coverage. It sucks. The Ram system is much better, closer to Calgary too!

[trailhead]

One? I've had so many. Heres the top three; the huge pike that leaped clear out of the water at Cross Lake. The monster bow that hit and spit my stimmie on the Crow, and last summer I cast along a log in the Oldman and long fat Cutt comes up and inhales the fly. Then I hear the "woof" and a yearling grizzly pops out of the bush. I just couldn't maintain line pressure on the fish, go figure.

[birchy]

She was blonde and dirty......

 

Classic.

 

 

 

I still have a score to settle with a couple unknown fish on the Bow.

 

Now (starting my 4th year now) if I could only remember how I used to hook them so often in my 1st season fly fishing...