Fishing with Ken....The dance of death and short straws.

[dolly]

A beautiful place to be at. I really like the house. There are no such houses over here. Thanks for the pics

[shrink]

Sounds like you guys had a marvelous time. A beautiful venue, as well. Congrats!

[SmokinAl]

Wow, nice stockings...

[Colt45]

:rotfl:

[Ken Gargett]

may i point out that the fish above the alleged 'bunny' shot was mine, and would have swallowed any guppy the prez managed to jag all week.

need i post the new zealand photos again?

[Chicago]

OMG, that is funny.

[atomross13]

[Ken Gargett]

» 5 Aussie fishermen in the Andes. Gorgeous river, snow capped volcano in

» the background, mixed pace snow fed water. Greg fished in his own boat and

» the rest of us worked two to a boat sharing a guide. One would cast from

» the front, one from the back....guide in the middle. Fly fishing in tandem

» from one boat takes a great deal of skill. It is an interplay of timing and

» respect where each fisherman takes into account what the other is doing.

» Done properly it is poetry in motion as the fly lines almost dance through

» the air in partnership with each other. In Kens case however we would draw

» straws in the morning as to whom would fish with him. We referred to it

» internally as ….”the dance of death”. Des’s face wound is proof where kens

» fly neatly hooked him just below the eye.

»

» The week produced plenty of trout (browns and rainbow) with the majority

» 1-2lb....enough 3-4lb to keep us interested...and one whopper 9lb rainbow

» which was caught by Greg on the first day. The truly exhilarating feature

» was the scenery...volcano, gorges, rapids etc etc. »

» The day would begin with a fine breakfast at the lodge followed by the

» short stroll to the lodges preparation room. Here we would check our gear

» and pretend we knew what we were doing. Into the 4X4 and off to the river

» where we would fish a different section each day….mostly by boat but also

» wading occasionally which is what I enjoy most. Three hours fishing in the

» morning and then off to the bank of the river where we would sit down to a

» delightful BBQ

» Lunch…three bottles of red wine and a few cigars. Tragedy ensued the first

» day when I realized that we did not bring enough cigars for the week in

» Chile. I brought two boxes of 898 Varnished. Ken brought 9 cigars total.

» Macho forgot to bring any, Des brought a dozen as did Greg. Given we were

» smoking four to five a day each… something drastic needed to be done.

»

» In field conditions ruthless decisions need to be taken. I turned a box

» and a half of 898 Varnished into 4….4.5….4’s and divided them amongst the

» troops so that we would not run out during the week. I asked Ken to do the

» same with his remaining cigars….but our “Team Player” refused while not

» holding back in smoking the new….4…4.5…4’s.

»

» Post the red wine and cigars, most of the crew would retire for an hour»

» One of the most shocking displays of fishing vandalism occurred after one

» of these lunches.

»

» Fishing with Greg, our guide took us to a sandy knoll where we would walk

» quietly to a shallow slither of water which fed into a deeper lagoon.

» Often big fish held here in the shallows and indeed as we slowly moved

» towards the pool we found a series of trout holding and one bloody big

» Salmon. The guide gave me three instructions. 1. take my time. 2. Change

» to a bigger fly as we needed to annoy the Salmon into a bite and 3…..to be

» as quiet as possible.

»

» As I was preparing….Ken and Des arrived on the sandy knoll in the second

» boat. Ken fell out of the boat and started screaming that he was drowning.

»

»

» “Ken….shut the F””””K up!”

» “I’m dying….I’m in Quicksand!”

»

» The guides went to his assistance (way too quickly for my liking) and

» before long the mutant Easter Bunny stood behind me as I prepared to cast

» to my fish.

»

» “You want me to have a go”

»

» “Ken….what I want you to do is go fish the F###K away from me and shut

» up”

»

» “ Fine….I’m off”

»

» The Salmon was laying still and no more than 10 metres away. It was an

» easy cast so I let out some line and commenced the second false cast when

» I hooked something behind me?

»

»

» I turned around to find my fly line wrapped around Kens Line…..as he set

» up to fish directly behind me in my cast trajectory.

»

» I calmly put my rod down….walked to Ken….took hold of the tangled

» mess….and cut his line.

»

» “YOU CUT MY LINE!!!!!”

»

» “YES NOW F OFF” I returned to my rod and guide who was wondering what

» circus we came from.

»

» At this point Ken dropped his Rod….found a piece of driftwood and started

» running toward my fish with the intent of throwing the block of wood to

» scare my fish. He threw the piece of wood which landed in the lagoon

» missing the Salmon (he throws like a girl). I lost it and started toward

» him fully intentioned to belt him. He saw the look in my eye and sensibly

» retreated…. fully prepared to jump back in the quicksand so I wouldn’t

» follow

»

» I never caught that fish. We hit him on the head a dozen times but could

» never get him to bite.

»

» Our poor guide that night said that he had never seen such a spectacle. I

» just said he needed to hang around us longer…..there was always tomorrow.

dear prez, please confirm i have your home email address as i'd hate any of the cuban photos to fall into the hands of anyone who would not use them against you.

what a crock of crap and here we go again.

okay, the tiny hook near des's eye might have had a smidge of truth.

but macho and i fished endlessly together and i think in two days had our lines cross once. with with el prez, better known as pegleg the thresher machine, forget it. every second cast. the key, rob, is that every back cast is not supposed to hit the water behind you. it is not a reference point. "get your rod lower", i heared a million times. it was in the water most of the time to avoid circus lion tamer action of el prez. hence, he kept hooking mine. macho? no problem. rob? we may as well have been feeding our lines into the same knitting machine. des? no problem at all (okay, bar the hook near the eye thing). this is like a game of truth, justice and the american way. spot the odd one out.

now, his idea of enough three to four pounders is terrific. if he sold cigars by weight, believe me, no one would buy a thing. in all truth, as wonderful as it was, there was precious little over 3 lbs. i wish it were not so. greg's a whopper and i might point out thata the only other fish of size, a three kilo silver salmon caught by (remind me, rob, who did catch that and what was even worse, it was after you slipped our guide a few bucks to set you up in the good spot and have him send me off to some fetid backwater swamp and then when i did catch it, fernando comes rushing over and sends me off to a puddle so you can fish there and, sorry, what did you catch again other than nada, zip, a big fat zero?).

as for the rest, i need a drink before even thinking about it. there is a bottle of 63 burmester somewhere if you'll excuse me.

[Colt45]

Well, so much for not having a whinge. And I guess you guys have pole vaulted over tenet four of

the FOH forum regulations. As Chopper might say......

[Ken Gargett]

One of the most shocking displays of fishing vandalism occurred after one

» of these lunches.

»

» Fishing with Greg, our guide took us to a sandy knoll where we would walk

» quietly to a shallow slither of water which fed into a deeper lagoon.

» Often big fish held here in the shallows and indeed as we slowly moved

» towards the pool we found a series of trout holding and one bloody big

» Salmon. The guide gave me three instructions. 1. take my time. 2. Change

» to a bigger fly as we needed to annoy the Salmon into a bite and 3…..to be

» as quiet as possible.

»

» As I was preparing….Ken and Des arrived on the sandy knoll in the second

» boat. Ken fell out of the boat and started screaming that he was drowning.

»

»

» “Ken….shut the F””””K up!”

» “I’m dying….I’m in Quicksand!”

»

» The guides went to his assistance (way too quickly for my liking) and

» before long the mutant Easter Bunny stood behind me as I prepared to cast

» to my fish.

»

» “You want me to have a go”

»

» “Ken….what I want you to do is go fish the F###K away from me and shut

» up”

»

» “ Fine….I’m off”

»

» The Salmon was laying still and no more than 10 metres away. It was an

» easy cast so I let out some line and commenced the second false cast when

» I hooked something behind me?

»

»

» I turned around to find my fly line wrapped around Kens Line…..as he set

» up to fish directly behind me in my cast trajectory.

»

» I calmly put my rod down….walked to Ken….took hold of the tangled

» mess….and cut his line.

»

» “YOU CUT MY LINE!!!!!”

»

» “YES NOW F OFF” I returned to my rod and guide who was wondering what

» circus we came from.

»

» At this point Ken dropped his Rod….found a piece of driftwood and started

» running toward my fish with the intent of throwing the block of wood to

» scare my fish. He threw the piece of wood which landed in the lagoon

» missing the Salmon (he throws like a girl). I lost it and started toward

» him fully intentioned to belt him. He saw the look in my eye and sensibly

» retreated…. fully prepared to jump back in the quicksand so I wouldn’t

» follow

»

» I never caught that fish. We hit him on the head a dozen times but could

» never get him to bite.

»

» Our poor guide that night said that he had never seen such a spectacle. I

» just said he needed to hang around us longer…..there was always tomorrow.

if ever an event showed you who your mates were...

rob was flumoxxing around on some sand bank where two days earlier, some other fisherman had caught a seriously big fish (we'd watched and during this debacle, salmon were jumping nearby, some would have had to have been 30 kilos plus). rob's problem was that this may have been the same fish (he thought it a trout until two days later when fernando pointed out the difference) or perhaps they were just fishermen with some ability but i would never say that. we arrived to provide the obviously desparately needed backup. i got out of the boat in one inch of water. problem was that it covered who knows how deep mud which was as fine as... i went staright in to my ear (was scraping mud out for a day and let me tell you how scary that was). i managed to grab the edge of the boat with one hand - the other, i am proud to say, never let go of the rod - and hooked a leg back over (i still have the bruise fading weeks later). eventually even fernando realised that rob was not slipping him enough dosh to assist him at everyone else's expense for one of his clients to die so came to assist - i could hang on but do bugger all else. meanwhile princess roberta, back at his salmon pool, is screaming blue murder that we'll scare the fish. i might point out that it was about 4 metres away, not 10 - guess this is why rob thinks his fish are so big. once righted, i was back on the job, assisting rob, as any good mate would.

he asks if i'd go and fish near des. i do this. next thing i know, his back cast (there it is again) goes so crooked that he has caught me. i try and quickly assist in untangling so he can get back to boring the fish but he then performs one of the most unmitigatred acts of terror ever seen on the high seas and cuts my line. this was priacy worse than his prices.

i then, notwithstanding the appalling vandalism, cleared some loose driftwood out of the way - his back cast was sure to catch it - and apparently my random act of kindness was misinterpreted.

throws like a girl? line 'em up, buddy, and you are on anytime. even though i was a keeper, not a bowler, i'd be prepared to back my arm. i've seen your back cast. if i'd wanted to scare the fish, trust me, that wood would have got closer than any of your casts.

and as for running away, the god's honest truth, any stat dec you like, it was two days before i found out that he was actually pissed at that (and before i stopped laughing). i really thought he was joking.

and perhaps the dumbest thing of the day was one of our number (neither rob nor myself, nor des but not to mention any names the serial groom) walked right back into the mud to cast and had to be rescued (again to rob's disgust that both guides were diverted from assisting him).

[hoyopr]

» » “Ken….shut the F””””K up!”

» » “I’m dying….I’m in Quicksand!”

Sounds like fishing in BC, great looking trip thanks for the photos and laughs.

[El Presidente]

Ken...I would love to live on your planet.

Lets forget about you hooking Des in the face....could happen to anyone....not that it did.....

When Ken takes the front position on the boat the best you can do is light a cigar, grab a drink and pray to God. The result is like a bad western where his fly can hit your eye, can of beer, hat or cigar only to see the said item flung into the water.

The caster at the back of the boat has view of the front caster and needs to give way.

It became apparent to all of us that Kens "unique style" of 38 false casts followed by a 8 ft cast...retrieved in 5 strips.....followed by 38 false casts ...left little opportunity for a cast of your own from the back of the boat.

In the end ......mere survival was a key measure of success :-D

[Ken Gargett]

the grimm brother is off again.

i'm happy to post the nz pics again, if i really must.

[Ken Gargett]

ps - if you lived on my planet, first rule when trout fishing would be jail if you thumped the water with every back cast. i'll say again, macho and des - no problem.

[El Presidente]

» ps - if you lived on my planet, first rule when trout fishing would be jail

» if you thumped the water with every back cast. i'll say again, macho and

» des - no problem.

Des was an inch away from losing an eye

[Ken Gargett]

»

» Des was an inch away from losing an eye

to be honest, probably about 1/4 of an inch. still, all's well...

[Miami101]

hese are some good trips....where did you find the information for the trip?

Wow

Get shots guys keep them coming...I have to back over them very slow.

[Ken Gargett]

rob took the photo and i was looking straight at him. can't explain it, can you?

[Miami101]

Wow

These are some great photos...I hope to one day go on such a nice trip.

[Colt45]

» rob took the photo and i was looking straight at him. can't explain it, can

» you?

sorry - I was lead to believe it was your personal "valet"

[El Presidente]

5 Aussie fishermen in the Andes. Gorgeous river, snow capped volcano in the background, mixed pace snow fed water. Greg fished in his own boat and the rest of us worked two to a boat sharing a guide. One would cast from the front, one from the back....guide in the middle. Fly fishing in tandem from one boat takes a great deal of skill. It is an interplay of timing and respect where each fisherman takes into account what the other is doing. Done properly it is poetry in motion as the fly lines almost dance through the air in partnership with each other. In Kens case however we would draw straws in the morning as to whom would fish with him. We referred to it internally as ….”the dance of death”. Des’s face wound is proof where kens fly neatly hooked him just below the eye.

The week produced plenty of trout (browns and rainbow) with the majority 1-2lb....enough 3-4lb to keep us interested...and one whopper 9lb rainbow which was caught by Greg on the first day. The truly exhilarating feature was the scenery...volcano, gorges, rapids etc etc.

And then you would look around and see this……The Mutant Easter Bunny.

The day would begin with a fine breakfast at the lodge followed by the short stroll to the lodges preparation room. Here we would check our gear and pretend we knew what we were doing. Into the 4X4 and off to the river where we would fish a different section each day….mostly by boat but also wading occasionally which is what I enjoy most. Three hours fishing in the morning and then off to the bank of the river where we would sit down to a delightful BBQ

Lunch…three bottles of red wine and a few cigars. Tragedy ensued the first day when I realized that we did not bring enough cigars for the week in Chile. I brought two boxes of 898 Varnished. Ken brought 9 cigars total. Macho forgot to bring any, Des brought a dozen as did Greg. Given we were smoking four to five a day each… something drastic needed to be done.

In field conditions ruthless decisions need to be taken. I turned a box and a half of 898 Varnished into 4….4.5….4’s and divided them amongst the troops so that we would not run out during the week. I asked Ken to do the same with his remaining cigars….but our “Team Player” refused while not holding back in smoking the new….4…4.5…4’s.

Post the red wine and cigars, most of the crew would retire for an hour nap before the afternoon fish.

The leper on the right is Ken.

One of the most shocking displays of fishing vandalism occurred after one of these lunches.

Fishing with Greg, our guide took us to a sandy knoll where we would walk quietly to a shallow slither of water which fed into a deeper lagoon. Often big fish held here in the shallows and indeed as we slowly moved towards the pool we found a series of trout holding and one bloody big Salmon. The guide gave me three instructions. 1. take my time. 2. Change to a bigger fly as we needed to annoy the Salmon into a bite and 3…..to be as quiet as possible.

As I was preparing….Ken and Des arrived on the sandy knoll in the second boat. Ken fell out of the boat and started screaming that he was drowning.

“Ken….shut the F””””K up!”

“I’m dying….I’m in Quicksand!”

The guides went to his assistance (way too quickly for my liking) and before long the mutant Easter Bunny stood behind me as I prepared to cast to my fish.

“You want me to have a go”

“Ken….what I want you to do is go fish the F###K away from me and shut up”

“ Fine….I’m off”

The Salmon was laying still and no more than 10 metres away. It was an easy cast so I let out some line and commenced the second false cast when I hooked something behind me?

I turned around to find my fly line wrapped around Kens Line…..as he set up to fish directly behind me in my cast trajectory.

I calmly put my rod down….walked to Ken….took hold of the tangled mess….and cut his line.

“YOU CUT MY LINE!!!!!”

“YES NOW F OFF” I returned to my rod and guide who was wondering what circus we came from.

At this point Ken dropped his Rod….found a piece of driftwood and started running toward my fish with the intent of throwing the block of wood to scare my fish. He threw the piece of wood which landed in the lagoon missing the Salmon (he throws like a girl). I lost it and started toward him fully intentioned to belt him. He saw the look in my eye and sensibly retreated…. fully prepared to jump back in the quicksand so I wouldn’t follow

I never caught that fish. We hit him on the head a dozen times but could never get him to bite.

Our poor guide that night said that he had never seen such a spectacle. I just said he needed to hang around us longer…..there was always tomorrow.

[Colt45]

» And then you would look around and see this……The Mutant Easter

» Bunny.

»

he's looking at?......

»

»

[El Presidente]

»

Low blow