An incident that renders an angler unable to fish for several weeks is one not easily forgotten. My mishap occurred on April 3, 2004. I know that for certain. The lack of the usual regular fishing diary entries from that day onwards for several weeks is testament.
I was fishing that day on the Maruia River with two mates, Smithy and John Cornish. We’d tramped a considerable distance downstream along a rough bush track to a favourite reach, beyond where most anglers go, to a broad area of boulder strewn pocket water.
Smithy drew the long straw. He got the first chance to rise a fish. Spotting trout in pocket water is not always easy. The flow snakes its way
