Favourite Delhi Portrait

Paan-wallah on Daryaganj, Old Delhi.

Mahseer Fishing: Grand Finale

Beautiful landscapes, wild Himalayan Golden Mahseer fishing, amazing food and the warmest, friendliest locals: could my trip get any better?  Well my third day was certainly different fishing; I didn’t get a single bite until the very late afternoon, and then I didn’t get a hookset and the fish was making her salaams and heading off back into the Ganges before I knew it.  It was a little crushing, but after such an amazing day previously I had little to complain about and remained philosophical about the lost fish; it is not like my dinner or my livelihood depended on the catch, and the delicious prospect of Gajju’s heavenly creations and a giant Habano cigar by the fireside was a great comfort. My ghillie Prahlad on the other hand, who held great pride in his work, was very despondent; I must say the previous day fishing on Byas Ghat his knowledge of the river and the spots holding fish was amazing.  He would wave over to an apparently featureless part in the shallows and say, “Here, sir” and often within two or three casts I would get a bite; sadly we were not in luck today and he explained that the colour of the Ganges had changed (it looked the same to a rank amateur like me) and that it had probably rained somewhere upriver. That evening Gajju didn’t disappoint; the paneer makhani and dum aloo he turned out were quite simply, out of this world.  I smoked my consolation cigar and my spirits remained high as Ramesh regaled me with tales of trout fishing in Kashmir, something that has always been a dream for me, and the wildlife safaris the company runs from their permanent camp near the Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve. 

The following day we set out as per our usual schedule but the session was rapidly proving fruitless.  However, at one stage there was a big splash and Prahlad said he saw a large mahseer jump; this is apparently very rare and at least proof that there fish out there.  With such quiet fishing I became distracted and the rod felt heavier and heavier with each cast.  Some of the local village lads who had gathered started an impromptu game of cricket on the shore: this is, after all, India, the most cricket-mad nation on the planet.  Ramesh and Bobby from our camp joined in and I photographed them from the river.

Having had so much success with spoons the previous day, I neglected to use the other lures I had brought with me: J13 jointed Rapala floating minnow.  The morning was looking to be a fruitless one, so I thought I would try anything.  I asked Prahlad for the firetiger pattern minnow, he changed them and I waded back to my position.  The minnows have a good action but do make for more work than the spoons, and the river current was very strong.  With my second cast, I got a half-hearted bite: my hopes were up again.  Then, as I was reeling in after a couple more casts, I saw a big fish jump.  No less than ten yards away from me, a giant 70 – 80cm mahseer suddenly leapt clean out of the river and back in right before my eyes.  It was not the lazy jump of a mullet as they roll over mid-air to flop onto their backs, nor was it the startled escape response of a baitfish; just a leisurely, graceful bound that reminded me of the way dolphins jump alongside ships or dressage horses leap fences, but the mahseer was completely clean out of the water and headed dead straight upstream, no mean feat for a fish that size in that strong a current.  With that size of fish, her eyes looked very small and the scales on her back very big; and in a trip and narrative full of hyperbole this was really one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Himalayan Golden Mahseer Fishing – Part 2

After the heady euphoria of my first good-sized Himalayan Golden Mahseer, and the small matter of a hearty breakfast of porridge, eggs, toast, potato rissoles and sweet tea, it was time to hit the water again.  It was soon clear the fish were in the mood, and I was not disappointed as they kept biting all morning.  Very often the fish would bite a matter of yards away from where I was wading, fearless and quite brutal in taking the bait.  My second fish was very memorable, as she was a jumper; according to my guide, it is very rare for mahseer to jump, hooked or otherwise, so this was a special moment (more on this later).  When landed, Prahlad posed with the game aeronautic fighter:

Himalayan Golden Mahseer Fishing

Well I experienced many things on my trip to India, but since I was there primarily for the fishing, I will start with the good stuff.   Click through for some photos of the action…

“The love of saints is stronger than their reason”

One must really be there to feel the power of the place, but I thought this photo captured some of the spirit of things at Nizamuddin Dargah.   Mehboob-e-elahi Hazrat Khwaja Nizamuddin Auliya will fulfil your wishes…he did mine!

Back from India

In short, I had the trip of a lifetime.  I have a lot of matters to attend to, and more than 600 photos to go through before I can post in detail, but for the time being, here is a taster…

Less than a week to go

and then I am headed for India; I can’t wait.   I need to pick up the reel I ordered from Asakusa Tsurigu (one of the best tackle shops in Tokyo, in my opinion) this week, pay some bills, take my bonsai trees next door and bribe my building’s caretaker with some sweets, then I’m ready.  The man at the fishing store recognised me and said “O-hisashiburi, ne” and I explained that, I hadn’t been offshore fishing for a while (the store specialises in saltwater tackle) since I was seriously getting into bamboo rod making and freshwater game, namely, herabuna.  The chap’s eyes nearly fell out of his head and said that was his favourite type of fishing; he then invited me to fish Sagamiko with him when I get back from India!  When I go to pick up my reel I will take my bamboo kisu rod and really startle him.  Hopefully this autumn I can also try my hand at fishing for wakasagi, which means I will no doubt have to make my own rod for that, too. 

Herabuna broke my rod

Well not quite, but yesterday’s fish left their mark on my fishing rod.  The bamboo was split and the lacquer broken off one side of the first joint of the rod.  This is not terminal, and can be corrected easily by binding with silk thread and then re-lacquering.  I bought the rod rather cheaply, secondhand, although it is an excellent fisher it is old and has seen plenty of use; I must get to work and finish making my own hera rod before this one conks out!

Herabuna again

Another morning of herabuna fishing.  This time I experimented with a few different setups but just as I was coming to the end of my three hour slot, I snagged two hera in one cast twice in rapid succession.  This is called ren or renko in Japanese, and although I’ve seen others do it maybe twice or thrice in my year or so of hera fishing, it is much rarer than you would expect (seeing as all hera tackle is two-hooked).  Well I have never caught a double myself, so to do so twice in two casts was quite pleasantly surprising.  The first pair especially put up a very game struggle, requiring a couple of minutes of fighting (as opposed to ten or twenty seconds to land, as is usual for single hooked hera) and now at home my bamboo hera rod is slightly bent out of shape.

The first double-header:

And the second:

None of the fish is foul-hooked!

On my way back I had lunch at a restaurant that claimed to be Sichuan (Japanese always insist on calling it Shisen, after the Japanese way of reading 四川).  I had dan dan mian (tantan-men).

It was okay, but despite the fiery red colour promising much entertainment in the chilli department, turned out rather mild.  However, I was hungry and the noodles were a very pleasant way to end a pleasant morning’s fishing.