I guess we’ve al been in the situation where we can see our quarry, see that it is feeding, and go through the contents of an entire fly box trying to appeal to its culinary senses. You watch in anticipation as nature’s conveyor belt carries your exquisitely prepared morsels right over its nose, only to have them sniffed at, yet ultimately rejected with all the disdain of Greg and Jon turning up their noses at the Masterchef contestant’s offering of Honey Baked Mackerell with Candied Fruit Salad.
Frustrating ain’t it. Short of throwing rocks at the damned thing there’s no way that you and Mr. Trout are going to be on hand-shake terms before the day is out.
It seems to me that, with a little sensible application of genetic engineering we could imbue the trout with the feeding habits of mans best friend – imagine….
- Never again would you need to check the weather before venturing out.
- No more waiting for the evening rise, simply turn up at whatever time you have deemed to be dinner time.
- No need for boxes full of flies, in fact, you’d only need one, OK maybe a backup would be sensible. It wouldn’t matter what it looked, smelled or tasted like.
- No need for stealth – in fact stealth would be a bad idea. Just stomp up to the river making as much noise as possible. By the time you get there all of the fishy inhabitants would be jumping up & down, chasing their tails with their tongues hanging out, streams of saliva hanging down like Fu Man Chu’s moustache.
- Delicate presentation? Drag? Forget it! Any old ham fisted lob will do. Old Trouty will have hoovered up whatever you threw at it and will be wiping its chops on the carpet before you know it.
- No need for a landing net either; the fish will probably follow you to your car.
I need to get out more.