MY FIRST CLIENT

It was the first fortnight of January, and I was in the midst of the pampas of the Coyhaique zone, and the weather conditions had been fairly stable. There was a great abundance of grasshoppers and their sound together with the other insects – mayflies and caddies – joined to give the afternoon a riot of noise. I was nervous and feared that my client might realize it was the first time I had been guiding.

That day I had got up early. The water temperature was 10º C, very convenient for fishing, and the trout were going to be very active. I knew it. The journey was promising, and that made me very positive; it was important that the weather conditions kept stable during the whole week, so as to assure excellent results.

I was at the airport with my boss, waiting for my first client, John Maechling, a 1,90 meter tall Yankee, well built and with gray hair. He was wearing dark glasses, and when we first met, I couldn’t see his eyes. “Will he have realized?”, I thought. This negative sensation got to my subconscious, and I imagined him harassing me with technical questions I wouldn’t be able to answer. This type of situation must be the worst nightmare for any guide. He was a very nice and polite person.

He was a very nice and polite person.

We began that same afternoon to fish on the banks of the river. He asked me what fly he had to use. I suggested a daves hopper. While I was putting the bait on his line, John was checking the temperature; to his amazement, it was hotter than usual, between 13 and 14º C. He started to cast, and the way he bent his wrist caught my eye. The course of his line did not seem very controlled, and I felt slightly in danger, so I started to back away slowly. When the fly ‘crashed’ into the quiet water, I shook my head disapprovingly. He then took the line back violently, producing even more disturbance in the water.

To my astonishment, a fish bit immediately. John, very happy, congratulated me by the fly selection. I couldn’t believe my eyes; it had to be mere luck or the fish wasn’t paying attention. It was a beautiful fario, 10 inches long, not very big, but big enough to cheer a client up with his first cast.

Although his casting technique was not the best, it kept on working, to my amazement, so I started to watch what he was doing. My client put the bait in the right place, and most of the times he had the leader stretched, both of these important factors were correct; nevertheless, what I couldn’t understand was the presentation of the fly, the way he hit the water very violently, creating a great disturbance. I imagined the hit was going to scare all living things away (in fact, it scared me).

After a moment of unsuccessful thinking, I decided to sit, leaving John alone. While I was taking in the beautiful landscape and thinking about my girlfriend, I saw a grasshopper; it was on my leg, and before it jumped, I caught it. Immediately, I moved several meters up the river, and after I had found a perfect place, I hid among the bushes, approaching the riverbank very slowly (trying not to scare my client’s fish away). 

My guinea pig was there: a rainbow trout 14 inches long, next to the bank, looking up the river. I was positioned two meters behind the fish. Without hesitation, I took my victim, cut one of its legs, and threw it into the water. I realized immediately that it was going to fall behind the trout. Not very happy, I noticed the hit on the water. Maybe not as hard as the Yankee’s fly, but it attracted the trout’s attention. The grasshopper remained still for a second, but then made a big mistake: it started to jump with its remaining leg, creating a disturbance in the water. 

That was enough for the fish to notice the grasshopper, and with a quick and certain movement, it ended the grasshopper’s life, and it was through this, that I understood John’s technique. It was the presentation of the fly, in this case the grasshopper, falling into the water and creating a disturbance, which caught the fish's eye. Whether it needed to be so noisy, I don’t know. Perhaps John’s fish had a hearing problem.

The most surprising thing was the movement the insect made in the water, trying to save itself. It was like the movement John gave the fly with the line while he was retrieving it, attracting and teasing the trout to get it to bite. The remaining question is: is there a special manner with which to take the line back? A very fast one, may indicate that the fly is tied to something, scaring the fish away; a very slow one perhaps won't attract the fish.... Perhaps imagine it as a grasshopper falling into the water, and then … running for its life?