by Jon Novoselac

It’s been a while since I caught a trout. Three months and three days, to be precise. But that’s all behind me now. The curse has been lifted. Breathe easy, ‘cause life is good once again.

Amanda’s been keen to join me on a fishing trip. Blessed are the men whose partners join them whilst angling. She and I rugged up, along with some kind relatives we were staying with, and planned a trip to country Victoria.

We left Melbourne at 9:30am, and made it to the Yarra Valley at around 11:00am. The weather at this time of year so far south can be cold, to say the least, but conditions were quite tolerable.

I alluded to this trip in a previous entry. A couple of months ago, the owner of the property we planned to visit informed me that “Fly fishermen here have been taking up to three fish per day.”

My excitement built as I assembled my gear, and completed what might be the best nail knot I’ve ever tied. Well, well, well. What a little bit of adrenaline does for knot-tying prowess. A size 10 olive Woolly Bugger was my weapon of choice. As we prepared to wet our lines, it started to drizzle.

Despite the rain, the line shot out in front of me and unfurled in a lovely straight line. And before I could make my tenth cast of the session, I was on to a lively rainbow, in the order of one and a half pounds.

Shortly after that, I hooked another female rainbow, slightly heavier than the first. This one displayed some clever acrobatics and succumbed to my net after a short, but impressive, skittle over the water.

All that said, the fish of the day wound up in Amanda’s creel. A big, cranky looking male rainbow showing some impressive kype on the lower jaw, weighing almost two and a half pounds.

Very well done, Amanda. Very well done, indeed. Perhaps you’ll be kind enough to instruct me in the art of catching large trout?