When Salmon Sulk: The Problem of Low-Water Fishing
by JOHN E. HUTTON
1
FOR some obscure reason Atlantic salmon ascending British rivers had, up to some nine years ago, when I left the country, resolutely defied the enticements of skilled dry-fly exponents. It was not until I enjoyed access to Canadian rivers that I was to learn the rudiments of this technique. In the diffident hope that a tyro’s impressions may be of some use to other beginners, I offer these notes.
The first thing one learns is to discard all technique used in dry-fly fishing for trout. For years I enjoyed trout fishing on the celebrated chalk streams, the Test and Itchen in Hampshire. These rivers held a stock of fine trout (and salmon) which were correctly described as “highly educated.” The fish had to be cautiously approached on bended knee, and with the finest tackle. The fly had to be presented to them upstream without showing them the leader or line. The slightest drag on the fly put the trout down, or even sent him rushing madly downstream. The fly was a tiny Dun or Spinner, tied to resemble the natural insect.
My reaction to first seeing the floating fly used on the Bonaventure was one of scandalized horror. A heavy cart rope lay on the surface of the pool, connected by a thick leader to a contraption looking like a child’s yacht in full sail. To add to my amazement, the whole outfit was being fished downstream. My astonishment was complete when I saw that fish came up to this monstrosity quite freely — at times.
My first attempts to hook a rising fish were abortive until I was told that I must strike immediately the fish was seen. This advice was another surprise. In fishing for trout one allows a clear interval before striking the risen fish. It may be that with the amount of slack line so often in the water, it takes an appreciable time-lag to make contact with the fish. This supposition may be borne out by the times one will heavily hit a fish, without hooking, when fishing a very short, straight line. The fish did not have time to get the fly property in its mouth.
Dry-fly fishing for salmon has confirmed the impression I have long held that these fish have, within wide limits, no fear of lines or leaders. In the clear water of the Bonaventure one may watch the behavior of a fish over which one is casting. Each time, when fishing upstream, the fish’s reaction to fly, leader, and line, repeatedly cast over him, can be clearly seen. One may often induce a fish to rise after making a dozen or more casts over him, and I do not recollect a single fish being scared by this procedure. Nor does drag on the fly frighten a fish: on the contrary, fish will often come to the fly when it is tearing madly across the stream. In downstream fishing, it often pays to make the fly deliberately cut across the water. Fish will sometimes take it when they refuse to rise to a fly floating directly downstream.
Much of the success of dry-fly fishing depends upon the dope used to keep the fly floating. I have found nothing to equal the efficiency of a 10 per cent solution of solid paraffin wax in gasoline. The wax should be cut into shreds to facilitate solution. On cold mornings, the dope may be found solidified. This can be corrected by standing the jar — which should have a wide mouth to enable the fly to be dipped — in the sun, or by temporarily placing it in a jacket pocket — preferably that of the guide.
Tackle suitable for low-water wet-fly fishing appears to answer all the requirements of the dryfly angler. The rod has to take a lot of punishment, when false-casting to dry the fly, particularly when exceptionally large, heavy flies are used. Care should be taken to ensure that the line is fully extended behind, before making a forward cast.
When fishing upstream, gather in the line slack as the fly comes towards you. A little practice will enable this to be done by bunching the slack in the free hand. The slack should be so packed in the hand as to run freely, without jamming, the moment it is released. The advantage of this method, which is suitable only for casts of moderate length, is that the slack is free from fouling any obstruction.
When fishing a very long line downstream, the slack, when recovering the line, must take its chance among the innumerable pitfalls and booby traps awaiting its ensnarement. Before casting again, the slack should be examined to make sure it is free of snags and snarls. All this may sound very rudimentary, but it is attention to these details which makes for efficient success.
The line must float throughout its entire length. Should any portion of it sink or become waterlogged, it must be thoroughly dried and greased.
Some anglers maintain that the leader should sink. While this is probably true, or desirable, in the case of upstream trout, fishing, I have failed to see any difference in the behavior of salmon rising to a floating fly when the leader is floating or submerged. Nor is it necessary or desirable to use a very fine or long leader. Nine feet of 7/5 gut answers the purpose as well as any other and is strong enough for all purposes. Nothing, short of a monstrous abuse of the strike, will leave the fly in the fish when using these leaders. One of the most astonishing features of this fishing is the extraordinarily wide range of size of fly that salmon will take. It varies from the smallest Dun to the gigantic White Wulff, specially tied on a No. 2 hook. It; is inexplicable!
During the great drought in the Miramichi in 1946, I could induce no fish to come to a wet fly larger than No. 12, and yet several fish were killed on the No. 2 White Wulff, the fish refusing any smaller floating fly. This continued for several days when, for no apparent reason, the fish refused the big Wulff and came to very small floating flies. Unfortunately, I had no very small flies dressed on salmon hooks, and fish hooked on No. 16 trout hooks mostly escaped. The old-fashioned winged May-fly often proves irresistible to salmon and grilse, but the tiny hook will not hold, although it is ample for brown trout up to any weight. Either the mouth of the salmon is much softer than that of the trout, or — and this is perhaps the true reason — the lively acrobatics of the former are the cause of their too frequent escape. To lose 80 per cent of fish hooked is exasperating.
2
FOR reasons I explained in my first article, it is necessary to place a dry fly fairly accurately over a fish, if he is to see it at all. Thorough fishing of a pool is, therefore, a much more exacting and laborious effort than is that with a wet fly. It pays, I have found, to fish the waiter near you with a scries of short, casts, after which you lengthen out to cover water below. If you can see the fish, you naturally cover them first, before trying for others that are invisible. Try fishing without drag, and if this proves sterile, try dragging the fly rapidly across the stream.
When fishing from a canoe, it is easy to cover water, without any drag, thirty yards below you. This is effected by stripping a few yards of slack and then casting the fly. Immediately the fly alights, strip more line, a loop of which is laid upon the water near you, and, as the fly travels downstream, continue to strip line, at the same time giving the rod a pronounced up-and-down movement. This rod action draws the stripped line through the rings, allowing it to lie on the water to “feed” the fly. If the whole performance is properly synchronized, the fly will continue to follow the current, without any drag whatever, for such distance as you care to feed the line.
When the fly has reached the limit of its travel, it may, if properly doped, be drawn upstream a few yards, and again allowed to drop. In this manner water many yards below you can be thoroughly explored without recovering the whole line.
When fishing very long lines, the necessity for immediate striking becomes apparent. Not only is there a lot of line between the fish and the angler to tighten, but the angler’s reaction to a rise at a considerable distance from him is likely to be slower than when the fish is near.
Fish very frequently rise to the floating fly with their mouths shut, and sometimes deliberately drown the fly. Such fish are worth further attention. One may cast a fly over some fish a dozen times, without visible result, until, without warning, the fish will take. When a fish can be clearly seen, it is often most interesting to observe his reaction each time the fly passes over him. His growing interest can be seen in the nervous movements of his fins.
In some rivers there is a substantial hatch of water-bred insects such as the stone fly, and salmon and grilse may be seen feeding on them, like trout, all over the pools. Then is the time for the dryfly fisherman. While it is by no means necessary to imitate the natural insect, it is often worth while trying a fly which looks like it, if the standard patterns prove abortive.
On the other hand, when no natural insects are on the water, salmon will often come to the angler’s floater. I can recall times when the wet fly seemed useless, and not a fish was showing anywhere. In despair, I mounted a floating fly with immediate success. It goes to prove that there is usually a salmon somewhere in a pool, awaiting a titbit gliding over his “window.”
The usual way to fish still water is to use two flies, a “tail” and a “dropper,” the latter being tied on some four and one-half feet above the tail fly. A primary factor for success is wind. Even a “cat’s-paw” ripple is better than a glassy calm. As a rule, the dropper fly does most of the work, if properly fished, and in excessive wind it may be profitable to tie a large fly on the tail, using it as a sort of sea anchor to steady the working of the dropper. Quite short casting is desirable. The flies are allowed to sink, and then drawn so that the dropper hovers just under or on the surface. After a moment or two, the tail fly is similarly worked. Too long a line makes it quite impossible to carry out this operation successfully.
As soon as a fish, or even the flash of a fish, is seen, he should be struck. In contrast to stream fishing, there is no current drag to strike the fish automatically, and hooking depends upon the speedy reaction of the angler.
Usually flies of No. 8 or No. 9 sizes are used, though fish in some lakes prefer flies around No. 6. The flies must, of course, be always on the move, and varying rates of travel should be experimented with, to find out what will raise the fish.
In very calm water, with little or no breeze, you can allow the flies to sink for an appreciable time before working them. In heavy wind, with breaking waves, work the fly into the crest of the wave. It is a thrilling sight to see a salmon rise under these conditions.
3
AFTER this diversion in the lake, let us return to the stagnant low-water pools of the river. To achieve success in this difficult, exacting, and arduous form of fishing, it is essential to observe faithfully three cardinal axioms: a perfectly floating line, square fishing, and rapid fly movement.
When fish are really “on the take,” they will come to a fly when the pool is dead flat in the absence of even the lightest breeze. Generally, however, success depends upon the surface being rippled by wind. The stronger the breeze, the more readily fish will respond. Frequently, the larger salmon are lying in these deep, sluggish pools, and most fish taken will be good ones.
In order to make the most of the deeps, it is very necessary to be able to cast a long line, as fish may follow the fly for a considerable distance before rising to it. Start casting about halfway across the pool, gradually lengthening the line until you cover the maximum amount of water you can handle. Draw the line rapidly across the pool, with as steady a draw as you are able to make. Never allow the fly to come to a stop for a moment. Continue drawing until the fly comes into the straight. This is often the most critical moment of the whole cast.
Never allow yourself to strike at a salmon boil; wait until he is felt, then just tighten. The weight and the friction of the long moving line are sufficient to drive in the hook. To strike at the sight of a rise, or boil, is to lose your fish and probably put him down for hours. It takes a little control of nerves, particularly when nothing has happened for hours and a fish suddenly boils. Just continue the draw as though you had not seen the boil; and if you are lucky, the fish will follow the fly to take it later in the same cast. I have seen what appeared to be the same fish rise four times to a fly working across the pool.
The smaller the fly the better. In still water, particularly if there is little ripple, the fish has a very clear view of the fly, and has a longer time to moke up his mind that the fly is desirable.
Some anglers might suppose the wake made by the knot at the leader junction might scare fish, I believe the reverse to be true. The knot wake acts as a teaser similar to the teasers used in biggame sea fishing, to raise marlin to the surface so that they may take the trolled bait. In many years of operating this method, on waters where the behavior of the fish could be clearly seen, I have never observed a single fish scared by the knot wake.
The knot is of great assistance to the angler. It is his speed indicator, and shows him not only where his fly is, but at what velocity it is traveling. Therefore, keep your eye on the knot at all times.
It is difficult to describe how fast a fly should be drawn in still water. I believe it to be almost impossible to draw the fly too fast. Drawing with my left hand, I pull in the line as fast as I conveniently can. holding the line with a finger of my right hand pressed against the rod, in between the draws, in case a fish strikes. At the end of the draw there may be ten or more yards of slack lying about, and care must be taken to make sure it is not foul of any obstruction. If you are wading, you can let the slack float on tho water; if fishing from a canoe, you can coil it in your lap or let it fall on the bottom of the canoe.
The influence of wind and ripple is so pronounced that one may fish a pool for an hour without success in a glassy calm, to be instantly rewarded by a rise when a breeze ruffles the water. This is another proof that, within wide limits, salmon take no alarm at the sight of line, leader, and fly repeatedly fished over them, or they would certainly not rise when the rippling water shrouded the fly in mystery. But the incessant slogging of sunk lines, in a low-water pool, and in still pools in particular, may cause disturbance and a sense of danger to the fish.
Fishing a floating fly in still pools is not, as a rule, very fruitful, unless some movement is imparted to the fly. This motion may take the form of drawing or jigging. The fish seem to have too long a time to study a fly which is not drifting down or across a stream. Fish will sometimes come to a dry fly worked on still water, but as a rule I prefer the wet fly.
4
THE playing of a hooked fish in high water, with heavy gear and a large fly, calls more for the exercise of brawn than of brain. It is a solely mechanical performance. I have even seen anglers skulldragging an unfortunate fish, hooked on a 4/0 fly, onto the beach, by walking across the bank with the rod held over the shoulder.
The playing of a fish hooked under low-water conditions presents a very different proposition. The size of the hook must determine the delicacy with which a fish is handled. I cannot agree with those who aver that one may as well be hard on a fish, for, if it is lightly hooked, it will get off anyway.
If wading and fishing without a guide, an angler will probably be using a gaff, because a net large enough to accommodate a 20-pound salmon is a great nuisance to carry on the person. The angler may have to follow a fish downstream, perhaps through rapids, and unless he is accompanied by a guide or has the temerity to beach his fish, he is compelled to carry a gaff. If a wading angler gaffs his own fish, a telescopic gaff, extensible to some six feet, is excellent.
When gaffing his own fish, I strongly recommend that the angler do so in water of fair depth. One loses so many fish trying to drag them over the shallows, at the last minute, that it is better to wade out to deeper water for gaffing. The novice will be well advised to play tho fish to a standstill, until he can raise it to the surface, with “its eye out of the water.” The more experienced angler will be able to gaff the fish at a greater depth, without fear of fouling the leader.
When fishing from a canoe, I always insist upon going to the shore, without landing, so that the guide can get out of the canoe for netting the fish. An angler who knows his business will tell the guide to keep still while the fish is led to the guide’s net. Salmon are long-suffering, but they cannot abide a guide chasing them with a huge net. The less movement there is on the part of the angler and guide, the less likelihood there is that the fish will be scared at the last moment.
Fish detest being dragged over shallows; so, in the case of large salmon in particular, it is advisable to net them in tho deepest water the guide can reach.
While we are on the subject of nets, it is prudent to examine, periodically, the condition of the network, which sometimes rots. It is very unpleasant to see a salmon dive through a rotten net and have to be played for several minutes more — while the guide holds up the metal loop, hoping for the best.
When a salmon is hooked, he will usually let you know what direction he intends to take, and your general strategy can be laid accordingly. If there are sunken boulders or other obstructions to be feared, the angler must endeavor to get into a position that will enable him to deal with any situation which may arise because of them.
A fish which has temporarily quietened after its initial run may be led upstream a considerable distance by keeping a steady pressure on him. Winding in is not so effective in this operation, because the cranking of the reel, unless very carefully done, sets up an intermittent jerking movement to tho rod point, and consequently to the fish.
This operation may be exceedingly valuable when it is important to prevent a fish from leaving a pool because there arc rapids or some impassable obstruction below. The presence of a bridge, with deep water alongside the piers, will sometimes prevent an angler from following a fish.
Salmon often have a habit of “sulking,” or resting quietly, when halfway through the fight. To pull hard upon them is simply courting disaster. Got as nearly opposite to tho fish as is possible, lower the rod, and put as much pressure upon him, laterally, as you dare. This has the effect of defleeting his nose slightly across the current, when he will probably move upstream. If you are fishing from a canoe, it may be maneuvered to get pressure on a sulking fish from different angles. It may even pay to take the canoe right over the fish and, if he still will not move, to stir him up with the pole. A sulking fish is a time-waster and taxes the patience of the angler, sorely tempting him to pull too hard.
Always endeavor to bring a fish into still water — if there is any. It is very noticeable how impotent a fish is in still water, compared with his powers of resistance in a fast current.
Every time a fish runs or jumps, instantly lower the rod until the point is almost touching the water. This will greatly reduce the line friction, because the fish will be taking line directly from the reel. The rod point must, of course, be raised to about 45 degrees directly after the run or jump. Experience will teach an angler when a fish is about to jump, and he can anticipate it by lowering the rod point.
After the initial period of activity is over, the rod point should be held higher, to get as much line out of the water as possible. Never hold a rod vertically: they are most vulnerable in this position, and may be fractured.
In the unfortunate event of a broken rod, it may be readily repaired by laying about three inches of the broken ends together, taking care that the rings are aligned, and binding them tightly with surgical tape or strong twine. I have fished confidently for several weeks with a rod so treated. Surgical tape is a useful adjunct to the fishing outfit, and occupies little space.
A fish should not be held, or drawn, by holding the line. Do not apply greater pressure than is exercised by the reel drag. And with very small flies, the reel drag should be set at its minimum strength, or just sufficient to prevent an overrun.
In recovering line, take pains to spread the coils evenly on the reel, with the index finger of the hand that is holding the rod guiding the line back and forth across the drum while the reel is being wound. Neglect of this simple precaution may cause the line to pack and subsequently jam when the fish makes another run.
5
IN rocky-bottomed rivers where large boulders lie, there is always danger that the line will foul on one of these obstructions. If a fish is getting dangerously near one, there is not much you can do except hold the rod as high as you can. If you are fishing from a canoe, the guide can pole across the river and get below the obstruction.
Floating logs can be a menace. If a fish should pass under a floating log, lower the point of the rod into the water and wait for the log to float downstream.
Fish foul-hooked are a dreadful nuisance, since they take so long to land, and waste valuable fishing time. A 5-pound grilse hooked in the tail may take twenty minutes to land. A 26-pound fish hooked in a ventral fin with a No. 12 Logie took one hour and thirty-five minutes before being brought to the net. We followed that fish up stream and down, around boulders, through rapids. Sometimes he rested, to be stirred up again with the canoe pole. It really is astonishing that these foulhooked fish can be killed at all. It is also noteworthy that if the hooks survive the first few minutes, they rarely seem to break away, especially when hooked in a fin.
Fish vary enormously in their behavior when they are hooked. Grilse are usually very lively and jump all over the place. Sometimes a fish comes in with very little fight, and he is usually supposed to be a “tired” fish which has traveled some distance. This may be the explanation, but I suspect that some fish are born tired, like certain individuals of the human race.
In heavy water, and with corresponding tackle, one is supposed to take one minute for each pound weight of fish. Under low-water conditions this might more correctly be doubled or trebled. And no matter what precautions are taken, one must expect to lose a heavy proportion of fish. It depends so much on the size of hook.
In fishing the Bonaventure, where I found excellent fast water in the pools even when it was described as “lowest in memory,” and where I was able to use hooks as large as No. 9, my losses ran 25 per cent. In the Miramichi, where the pools are mostly rather slack and shallow, and where l used No. 12 hooks habitually, my losses amounted to no less than 41 per cent. I count a fish as hooked only when I have had him on at least one minute. Most losses occur after a fish has been played more than ten minutes. These losses included fish hooked experimentally on flies furnished with No. 16 hooks.
When fishing two flies, one occasionally hooks two salmon. I have never known a case where both fish were landed. As long as both fish agree to run in the same direction, all may be well, but when they disagree, and go their opposite ways, no ordinary leader can stand up to the stress. It is different with sea and brown trout, which can usually be landed in pairs. The biggest “double strike” I over landed consisted of two kingfish weighing fifty-six pounds and fifty-five pounds respectively, when drifting for marlin in New Zealand waters. It was an amusing business playing them. When they both ran in the same direction they gave a combined pull equal to that of a 111-pound fish, but when they tried to run in different directions, all weight came off the line and I nearly fell backwards from the fishing chair. The guide enjoyed the joke more than I did. The enormous strength of the marlin leader was able to withstand their antics.
After a fish has been landed and killed, it can be kept fresh all day by keeping it in the river. When fishing from a canoe, the fish should be suspended over the side by a strong cord passed under the gill cover and out of the mouth. When you are shooting turbulent rapids, the fish should be temporarily taken into the boat. Alternatively, the fish, with cord attached and anchored round a stone, may be left at the side of tho stream. In this case, the fish should be protected from attacks by gulls or sea eagles by putting little leafy boughs over them, held down by stones. The immersion appears to have no deleterious effect and keeps the fish fresh.
6
No account of low-water fishing for salmon can be considered complete without some reference to bait fishing. There is, in many quarters, a considerable amount of prejudice against using bait, and it is, I think, unfortunate that it is not allowed in most Canadian rivers. It may be assumed that much of this prejudice arises from ignorance of the effect of bait fishing, and still more from the absence of knowledge as to how to use bait successfully.
Bait embraces spinning and trolling lures, such as minnows (real and artificial), spoons, sand eels, sprats (natural or dyed red), and soon, together with the natural baits, fished “straight,” the shrimp, the prawn, and the worm.
There is little to be said in regard to trolling, which is a purely mechanical operation depending largely upon the knowledge of the helmsman or guide, who can instruct the angler.
Whichever form of bait fishing is employed, it is desirable to use a rod specially designed for the purpose, as a fly rod is a poor weapon with which to cast heavily weighted lures. The reel should be of the bait-casting type, with automatic and finger drag and with a simple, non-multiplier rewind.
The prawn, or shrimp, can be fished with or without a lead. It can be fished “straight” or spun. The prawn is usually mounted on special tackle garnished with a multiplicity of hooks. It is, I think, better to reduce the body hooks to two, and have a small triangle winding down among the “feelers” of the prawn. The needle with which the hook flight is fitted is carefully inserted through the prawn’s posterior, into its body, so as to keep the creature straight. The hooks are loosely bound to the underbelly, and the whole assembly tied with fine cotton, or copper wire, not only to keep the hooks snug, but also to fasten the scales, which will otherwise soon come adrift in the current.
The easiest way to fish prawn is to cast it across the stream and let it come round like a fly. Some added weight may be necessary. The best weight is undoubtedly lead wire, of about No. 18 gauge. This should be laid on the leader two and a half to three feet above the bait, and is best done by laying a wooden match on the leader, and binding the wire over match and leader, and then withdrawing the match. The coils of wire can then bo twisted until they are tight. Pieces of wire can be removed or added at any time to vary the weight.
Tho prawn should fish deep, almost touching the bottom. After some practice, the prawn can be cast upstream and allowed to trickle down, without catching the bottom. Sometimes it pays to jiggle tho prawn up and down with a steady sink and draw. The moment a bite is felt, the fish should bo struck. Salmon will perform tricks of legerdemain with a prawn which defy solution. They will bite the back out or snip off the feelers without getting hooked.
If the fish are visible to the angler, he should carefully observe their behavior; and on any sign of panic, he should stop fishing at once. One never knows how salmon will react to the prawn. I have emptied a little pool of fish by catching them all, and next day emptied the pool by scaring every fish out of it.
Fishing the worm can be extremely effective in low water. The worm should be of the variety known as “lob” or “dew” worm — the large, snakelike creature which emerges on the lawn from its lair on dewy nights. It is a tedious process catching worms, and if serious fishing is to be done with them, it is better to buy them a thousand at a time from dealers. Fresh-caught worms are useless. They must be well scoured for several days in wet moss, in which material they will keep for weeks, if the moss is kept damp, in a cool place, and dead worms are removed daily. Worms for the day’s fishing are best carried in damp moss in a washable linen bag hung on a coat button.
Since at the start in worm fishing you are going to lose a lot of leaders, it will be prudent not to use your best salmon gut. Japanese artificial silk or nylon should answer the purpose. About three feet above the hook a “snood” or short piece of rather weak gut is tied in, which is to hold the lead. The weight should be made neatly of lead wire, and may be required to weigh anything from one to six ounces.
There are two designs of hook tackle for worms: the large single, about 4/0, with long shank furnished with stiff bristles pointing upwards; and the twoor three-hooked Stewart tackle. When using Stewart tackle I prefer the two-hooked type. A large worm is taken and the top hook is pierced through the worm’s “knot.” The worm is then wound three times round the gut, between the hooks, and impaled on the lower hook just above his tail. So long as the first incision is made at the “knot.” the worm will not come to pieces.
When baiting the large hook, thread the first worm in his knot and draw him right above the hook onto the leader. The second worm should be drawn up to the top of the hook shank, when the bristles will keep it from sliding down. The third worm should be threaded only far enough to cover the point and bend of the hook. Never leave the point of the hook uncovered — this is most important. You now have a large hook completely enshrouded by worms, and six alluring tails and heads wriggling about!
The worms may now be cast across the stream and allowed to work slowly down and across. The bait must be trickling along, or just above, the bottom. If the weight is correctly judged, it will be felt tap-tapping on the rocks. If no tapping is felt, the weight is too light and the worm is not fishing properly. If too heavy, the weight will immediately foul the bottom. Therein lies much of the art of worm fishing. The depth and velocity of the current and the angle of attack are all factors requiring consideration. An experienced angler will fish a pool full of rocks and large boulders without getting fouled — often.
If the lead fouls, it can usually be freed by wading well upstream before pulling. If all attempts fail to dislodge the weight, lay the rod down for a few minutes, when a trout, sea trout, eel, or parr will likely pick up the worm and free the lead. Even salmon are sometimes caught this way. If, after an interval, the lead is still fouled, lower the rod point and pull on the line until the snood by which the lead is attached breaks. You will recover your tackle intact, except for the loss of the lead.
When fishing a single worm on Stewart tackle, strike at the second “knock.” A salmon, taking the worm, gives two distinct “knocks.”
On the other hand, when fishing multiple worms, it is imperative to act in a different manner. When the worms suddenly stop, keep the rod still. If no movement is felt, it may be the bottom. A fish will often pick up a worm, let it drop, and pick it up again when the worm has worked round further. Presently the line will begin to draw as the fish carries the worm. Pay off a few feet of slack line, taking great care to put no weight on the fish, and then tighten on him. If all has gone well, the hook will be in the fish’s throat.
Salmon will follow the bait a long way and will frequently “stand guard” below the bait which has come to rest “in the straight” to seize it the moment the bait is slowly wound in. Therefore, always fish the cast completely to your bank.
To extract the hook from a salmon’s throat, cut it out and pass it down and out through the gills. Wind a few turns of leader round the hook bend, and draw it up and out through the mouth.
Worm fishing does not seem to scare fish in a pool. I have frequently caught fish with a fly when fishing close behind another who was using worms. I never use a worm without first giving the fly a thorough trial. On the other hand, when fish for some reason will not rise to a fly, the worm has added many hundreds of fish to my bag. It takes a considerable amount of experience to become a successful worm fisher. It is a difficult art to acquire.
There is another method of fishing the worm which I have dubbed “static.” Salmon will ascend rocky, turbulent burns which are tributaries of larger rivers. These little streams may be far too narrow for fly fishing, and their delightful miniature runs, rapids, and pools are only fishable with bait.
The multiple worms are lowered into a pothole, resting on the bottom, the rod laid down, and six feet of slack line drawn off. With the solace of tobacco, you spend an interval in the contemplation of nature and in the repulsion of intrusive midges. Presently the line gives a series of jerks, to be followed by the disappearance of the slack. A fish is on! It cannot be claimed that this is the acme of sport. It savors strongly of poaching, and I must confess to having been initiated into its mysteries by a most accomplished exponent of that profession. At the same time, it presents the salmon in a new light: if he will take a static worm, why is it necessary to keep the fly moving?