What a mad few weeks for SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed is the Manager of everything except the laundry at TRM) with so many enthusiastic anglers proudly returning with their maximum daily bags hauling six gleaming silver trout the size of salmon with an average weight of over four pounds and the larger specimens over five pound.
Back at the fish cleaning morgue the trout are all proudly laid out on display to compare and determine who claims the “catch of the day” prize.
It is reminiscent of a fish market mausoleum where each day’s catch are laid out “in state” like victims for inspection and measuring checks and weighing and photos by other inmates asking where, how, when, why, which pool, what fly, while the more successful inmates preen and passionately debate the most effective means of their demise and reminisce (aka lying) about the other achievements they have witnessed.
The fishing is usually followed by a communal strong cup of tea (or other revival beverage) to tell about the one that got away and argue about the best smoking recipes and continue the battle raging on between nymphomaniacs heaving depth charges competing against the old guard and their questionable woolly buggery spin-fishing tactics – how can either claim to have been “fly” fishing in winter conditions.
It is all so deliciously ‘antiquatedly’ British except we have not seen any tweeds or flat caps. “Swannis” were the more usual dress code for those veterans over 70, but these have been replaced by all the array of flash gear with American designer branded labels. (TRM just had a letter asking what they need to bring fishing on the Tongariro – the schedule is incredible – see report tomorrow.)
It is the combination of all these elements that makes a simple fishing trip so much more delightful and challenging and interesting… and addictive.