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Cherry Salmon • The First Stage  --Vol.39--
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Strain

I returned to the starting point of the pool of the front of kindergarten in the Kuzuryu River. The sun was going down. I had spent one and a half hours with my first trial. Now I started fishing down at much higher pace because I had completely learned the river condition.

Soon I came near to the spot where I had felt a feeble bite at my first trial. What was that? It was a fish, wasn’t it? Remembering that feeling, I started retrieving the line. I felt a strong pull at the rod tip. I raised the line and it still pulled my line.

"A fish!" I tried to say to Mr. Mori, who was fishing further downstream, but could not because the fish was pulled to me before I reeled the line properly.

What kind of fish? I raised the rod with a little hope. What was hanging under it was a Japanese dace over 30cm. A big one. It might be the same Malta that I had seen under the bridge of National Route 8 (Vol.38).
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A very large pool of Hatayaura. A huge amount of snow melting water completely spread over the border with the pool of the front of kindergarten.

The fish was not a cherry salmon but it was a good sign that a Japanese dace was caught under that condition. If cherry salmon stay here it will bite my fly. I continued to cast the fly with greater expectation. Probably I cast ten times. I got a stronger bite. I felt heavy when I raised the rod. Immediately a fish ran 5m. My salmon reel rattled back with a sound I had never heard since my fishing in Canada.

"I got a bite!" I said loudly. Mr. Mori, who was fishing 50m downstream, heard me and rushed with a net.

Soon I noticed the fish moved in a strange way. At first it fought strongly enough to pull out the line but then came near to me rather quietly. Later it ran again when I reeled in Flat Beam.

"It's strange!" I said loudly to Mr. Mori, who came very near to me with the net widely spread.

"A light fish swimming in a strange way." A fish of 50cm split the water for a moment at the end of the line tightened. I took a glance of its figure and suddenly remembered a fish I had caught in Marunuma many years ago.

"Hmm---it might be a---"

My fear turned to be true. The fish came up to my feet. It was covered with brown scales. It was a grey carp, but not a black carp. GP was attached on its somehow stupid face.

We both got utterly discouraged.
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A large amount of water, not muddy. Perfect condition I ever longed for.

A Sigh

Unluckily again, it rained that night. Usually they have snow in the mountain in the source area in that season. Snow would not have increased the river so much whereas the rain melts the snow which flows into the river. It did not rain so much but I worried about warm spring rain. I lay awake late in bed.

The next morning I looked at the water nervously. My fear turned to be true. Muddy water spread over the whole bank. The river did not flood but the water colour was as brown as coffee with milk.

No wonder I had only seen muddy water because such a little rain made the water muddy.

What can I do today? I sighed heavily. I should have fished later the previous evening.

It was no use crying over muddy water. After breakfast we walked into the pool of the front of kindergarten again. The water level was only 30cm higher than the previous day. It is not impossible to fish today, so I thought. But I could catch no fish in clear water yesterday, so I have no chance today!

Nevertheless we did not give up but cast the line for a couple of hours. Finally we walked out of the water and headed for Gifu, driving on our old route.
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It took more than 1 hour to fish down the pool to the end at high water.

Silence

Skipping the next week due to bad weather, we went to the Kuzuryu River again at the beginning of April. It was our second challenge in that year. As the weather got worse in a short cycle, it was no good worrying. Optimistically enough, I left Tokyo in the rain. Fortunately the rain stopped before I drove onto Meishin Motorway. Cherry blossoms were in full bloom in Tokyo. It was the best season to fish cherry salmon.

When we crossed the Asuwa River, a tributary of the Kuzuryu River, before Fukui, I vowed not to give up fishing even in muddy water. The water colour was terribly bad, indeed.

I realized muddy water would allow us to fish only our regular points. Leaving the motorway, we drove straight to the pool of a power transmission line.

When we crossed Gomatsu Bridge, I looked down at the water and cried. The river was muddy and high. It almost flooded.
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A Japanese dace looks unpopular everywhere. I was startled when a large one over 40cm bit the fly.

We parked the car at the regular place and looked down again from the embankment. The scenery was completely different from the previous time. All the grasses and willows on the bank had gone into the water.

Then we walked down to know the condition. Preparing ourselves, we walked through our old bank to the waterside, where we knew clearly that fishing was impossible. But I could not give up. I walked upstream along the bank to see whether there was a hiding place of fish at high water. A long pool was half formed at the upper reaches of the pool of a power transmission line but fishing looked still impossible. I walked near to Gomatsu Bridge but there was no hiding place. I came back to see downstream.

When I came back to the power transmission line I found Mr. Mori, who headed downstream, waving his hand to me. I felt something strange in his manner and rushed downstream.

A stream running around the sandbank under the power transmission line flowed straight again. Then a pool called the junction spread downstream. Mr. Mori and his friend were sitting at the head of the pool. I came near to them and found a fish near the waterside. Their looks taught me it was a cherry salmon.
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The junction pool was not muddy any more. Cherry salmon stayed quietly there at terribly high water.

I saw a Sea-going cherry salmon, a living one for the first time. It was different from a small cherry salmon I had caught in Hokkaido or another one in the lake. It looked more mysterious and flashed a fascinating look. My eyes were fastened on it. I could not take my eyes off it.

Because I always sought after big yamame trout or because I always adored cherry salmon, I felt I had kept fishing to see this fish since my childhood. That was no exaggeration. I was completely fascinated by its eyes.

I felt dizzy beside the fish but unfortunately it was not my fish. It ran away from muddy water and stayed under the root of willow when the lure hook happened to catch its back.

Anyway, since I saw a real cherry salmon I could not go back. I had not the slightest intention of doing so.

-- To be continued --
2002/02/10  KEN SAWADA
Tranlated into English by Miyoko Ohtake