This isn't really one that got away cos he was never got in the first place and isn't a memorable catch either, but just a pretty cool event that Kevin and I witnessed on the Witte and I wrote about it for the latest edition of the Piscator. Since Pierre has been kind enough to give us a Stories section I thought you up-country dudes who don't get the Piscator might like to enjoy it too:

I have found in my fishing exploits so far that there is plenty of room to be surprised. If you set out with low expectations, as most of us do when tackling the Witte, then it doesn’t take much to make an outing to this notorious river a success. It was with that in mind that my fishing buddy Kevin and I set out on a clear, warm December morning to break our Witte career blanks.

On the long walk to the upper sections we were booked on, we discussed spending more time than usual watching the water before casting and our discipline was not tested when we arrived at the start of the beat. We aren’t really slack when it comes to taking our time to observe, but we wanted to exaggerate it this time.

It paid off too because after spending a good while lazily tackling up we decided that Kevin would have the first cast. As he slowly got into a casting position a small brown rose in front of a protruding rock in the middle of the run. This was enough to get us both a bit over excited as seeing a fish feeding on the surface was a bonus. The fish took the dry fly just before it drifted onto the boulder, but Kevin missed the strike (early morning nerves I guess). It was evident that taking extra time and care would work in our favor and we stuck to it as we fished up.

Further along we came to a beautiful large pool which was divided at the tail with an island of long grass. The island had a nice undercut on the right hand side, with a few large boulders on the left hand bank opposite about a metre or so away. Another large submerged rock broke the faster current in the middle of the tail channel and looked like a perfect lie to harbor a feeding fish. The pool opened up ahead of us with a steep solid rock face on the left.

We fished the tail section carefully but with no joy, and continued to fish up the left hand side of the pool until Kevin froze in his tracks. The second fish of the day had been spotted, holding against the left bank, and quite deep. It didn’t take long for him to spot us and he shot across the pool to the safety of a deep crevice along the far bank. That seemed as good a time as ever to take a break so we climbed a bit higher up the face of rock to have a sandwich and a drink while watching the pool for more signs of fish.

After a long while of sitting and observing, the same fish left his hiding place, swam across and took up a feeding position ahead of the island at the tail. We watched without moving for a while, and eventually he swam slowly back to the cover of the far bank. Interesting! We decided to just watch and learn and the fish repeated the act. Later we noticed a second fish in the narrowed tail channel doing the same thing. He would leave the cover of the island and take up a feeding position behind the submerged rock for a while before heading back to the undercut.

It was during one of these feeding sessions that a small frog decided that the grass was greener on the bank, rather than on the island and made a jump for it. He hit the water halfway across the channel, and almost instantly propelled himself out of the water again aiming for the boulders on the bank. When I saw it jump back out the water I thought it would live to hop another day, but a split second after the frog came the trout, jumping clear of the water, taking the frog and beaching itself on the rocks on the bank. It flapped around and managed to get itself back into the water with the frog still in its mouth, and shot back to the undercut. I can only imagine the fright that the frog got when it hit the water and saw the trout waiting for it, and I imagine that he knew he was in a bit of a pickle, hence the instant exit to the bank.

If seeing the earlier fish rising freely was a bonus, then this was the mother load and I had to have a bit of a timeout before continuing with the fishing – It was all getting a bit emotional out there.

Things calmed down and the rest of the day went as had been expected, and we eventually stopped fishing and went back down to the pool to see what the rest of the show had to offer, but didn’t see either of the fish in the pool again. Walking back down to the car, we stopped at the beginning of the beat and this time Kevin did hook and land the small brown in front of the rock – a beautiful little guy all of 5 or 6 inches. He did some modeling for us and was set free to grow into one of those frog terrorizing browns like his older cousin a short way upstream.

p.s - The little brownie Kev caught at the end of the day is the little brownie in my avatar. I wonder how he's doing two years later.
p.p.s - I still haven't gotten rid of my frikken Witte river career blank.

Anyone else got any seriously outrageous yet true stories?