My First Salmon on Fly part 2

Please read part one "my first salmon on the fly" before reading this, all will make better sense!

My initial thought when the fish took was – My fly must have almost been on the bank! Although the water was deep directly below my feet, the fly could not have been 30cm from the bank when the fish took. I was recall this many times in the future when fishing pools with similar character, making sure I fished the fly right to the edge and many times, taking off a sinking to so as I could fish the fly even closer to the shore without snagging the bottom. How many times this tactic worked during my time on the river? Countless!!

Anyway, back to the story. The fish pulled hard and in an enormous first run of more than 100 meters, almost vacated, not only the pool I had hooked him/her in, but the one below that also. I knew I had to try and keep the fish from running into the Stable flats as access to this was difficult and meant a dangerous wade around a deep rock ridge, fortunately however, the fish must have felt safe in the depths of Banff Rock and decided to stop. A war of attrition ensued, with me standing precariously on the 40cm wide walkway, pulling as hard as I dare with my home made 12’6” Glass fibre rod. My main problem was, having not had any fish on fly, how hard could I pull? Fortunately for me, my father, who had heard my Shakespeare reel singing during that first hard run, had made his way to the high bank behind me and begun to give guidance. I shall never forget being amazed at just how much pressure he asked me to apply! Again, this valuable lesson would come back to me many times in the future to help a great many others who found themselves in that similar situation. With new found confidence I begun to apply even greater pressure, bending the strong rod in a manner I would not have dreamed of prior to my father’s advice, and soon, and for the first time, I saw the colour of my 15lb Maxima and around two fathoms below, the first glimpse of my silver prize. Shocked at the length of the fish I eased up, releasing some pressure, only to hear from behind me the authoritative voice of my father say, “no”, “don’t let him dictate”, “keep the pressure on and when he gives you an inch, take a mile, as he/she will do the same”! With those words ringing in my ear, again, I tightened on the fish, which after four or five hard runs which took me into my backing, was now becoming a little less active, yielding more ground with each turn of my reel. After some 20 minutes and an incredibly aching arm, both my father I could see the wonderful silver specimen rolling on its side, but agonisingly, just out of reach in the lifeless water on the far side of the stream. He/she was not yet mine. I was now beginning to feel my rod was just not big and strong enough to deal with such a fish, my underlying excitement was slowly giving way to a sense of frustration, which, again fortunately for me, was also detected by my father who calmly told me to “get below my fish” and use the current to my advantage whilst applying side strain to the fish.
Again, how many times I would use this later in life.
With side-strain now being firmly applied and my rod now pointing upstream and bent double over the narrow walkway, my father, seeing the fish was ready to be nettwd, slid down the high bank and confidently slipped the net under the beast, which, because of the angle I now had my rod, was now coming through the fast current close to me like a torpedo on the surface, its giant [to me] head almost out of the water; at last the battle was over and the 19lb sea liced hen fish was mine. The small fly, lodged firmly in the lower jaw, would never have came out. I had my first salmon on the fly; and what a fish!!

Interestingly, It feels every bit as good relaying the story right now as the moment I caught the fish. It may be a long time ago but salmon fishing in the company of friends provides us with the most fantastic memories.