Introduction

 For an experienced NZ angler, admitting to never having landed a ten pounder is like a 19 year old guy admitting to his own virginity. Walk straight up to a fly fisherman and ask about their biggest trout and you are likely to get the same irritation, agitation and obfuscation as they try and avoid the question. "I don't usually bother weighing them", "I don't carry a weigh net", "around ten pounds I suppose" are all common answers that give away the truth as certainly as our young virgin's bluster and evasion. It just isn't something you ask.

I'm fortunate to be able to fish a lot. Of the fish I catch, there are plenty of 5lb fish but, unless I've accidentally released a trophy without recognising it (yeah right), I'm not even sure that I've caught anything much over 7lb. Fact is (and I can't help making excuses) I've never really tried to catch the biggie.

The idea that catching a ten pound fish requires a lot more skill than catching a five pounder is, in itself, pretty flawed. I know a guy (how can I call him an angler?) who has caught a single trout in his life - just one, and it weighed 13lb! He was spraying weeds out the back of his dairy farm and he saw a big trout in a stream. He drove home, picked up his snapper rod, lobbed his rusty kahawai spinner in front of the fish, dragged it in, took it home to eat, ate two bites and fed the rest to the dog. I know someone else who caught 30 trophy trout in a month. This was in the height of the 1980s big fish boom in lake Aniwhenua while it was still a local secret. Sure, he is a very good angler, but a trophy a day for a month isn't fair.

Anyway, enough excuses. I'll say it. MY NAME IS NIGEL AND I'M A TROPHY VIRGIN.

But this is going to change. I'm up for another challenge. My mid life crisis is still romping along. This season I'm going to write about catching the big one, or having a bloody good crack at it.

It is time to loose my trophy virginity. I'll be hunting headwater streams looking for naive back country natives who may be unaware of my crude line pick ups. I'll be sneaking up lake tributaries in summer trying to catch more experienced inhabitants at a weak moment. I'll even be hanging round lonely lake release points late on winter nights with my fly out there waiting for an ovulating hen or a milty jack. Hen, jack, I'm not fussy. I'm desperate.

Maybe I'll head down to the Tekapo canals. Sure, I'd much rather lose my trophy virginity on a back country beauty than a bloated behemoth but I'm after a conquest rather than a permanent relationship here.

I'll also be calling in a few favours from existing friends and shamelessly cultivating new ones. If anyone is interested in being part of the adventure please let me know. 

So; sorry family, sorry clients. I'll see you when I can. Rotorua, Turangi, Reefton, see you soon. Twizel, I hope that I don't need to call.  Patagonia? Hmmm. There is an idea.

All I know is that somewhere out there, a big fish has my name on it.

If you catch it, please put it back.

Please "like" my post if you do, even better, "share" it.

Thanks.

Nigel