A letter written from New Zealand to my guide Scott

Scott, Last night Felicia and I passed through a small town in the south island and joined the locals in watching a display of fireworks that was some sort of celebration reflecting back 100 years when some idiot tried to blow up city hall. We ended the evening at an old English style pub talking to many locals….it’s a gold mining town and most of the locals are employed at the local mine.

There was a young girl that Felicia was talking to. She had huge very impressive breasts and was very proud of them. What has this story got to do with fishing in New Zealand? Keep reading….

I had just one chance at fishing fresh water so far. We camped along a medium sized river the other night and I threw a fly for about one hour…nothing. The next morning early I got up and fished about three holes that looked like they held fish. This stream was extremely slippery and New Zealand law does not allow felt bottoms, so I had purchased rubber sandals. Ten minutes on the river I slammed by knee on a rock and then proceeded in wading like a scared old man. I happened to look up and saw a big brown trout giving me the middle fin as he slowly slipped away. I don’t think I had the right flies and I didn’t have any weights to get my wrong flies down. All the stores here close on Saturday and Sundays, besides, we were way out in the middle of the forest.

I returned to the camper van, where I drew some water for Felicia, told her politely to get out of bed, and I would make coffee. I leaned my rod on the camper, she slid the door open and shortened it by about ten inches. End of fishing for the day. I made a repair and now my 7 ½ foot #5 weight is a 6 ½ foot 4.5 weight. Works OK. It’s the skill of the thrower, not the length of the rod.

OK, still what does this letter have to do with a young girl with large beautiful breasts and a shorter rod?

We sometimes travel half way around the world in search of better fishing. New Zealand is without a doubt very beautiful, however, I can tell right now that the fishing is nothing like Alaska. These streams for the most part are gin clear, contain little river like creatures. Our rivers in Alaska are full of life and contain much food that in turn can support lots of trout, char, you name it. Here if I caught a few nice browns in a day, I’d be happy, but before I left home, Frank and I went up river by boat and in a few hours I caught ten rainbow on a mouse…average 18 inches, probably four at 20 or above. We forget what we have at home when we dream about something bigger….I mean different. I have a woman here that might have smaller boobs than the one in the pub, but for some odd reason she loves me and hangs around with me no matter where I find myself on a venture. Boobs and fishing therefore are about similar…I have familiar territory that loves and me and supplies me with abundance, so why think about traveling 6000 miles for something better….OK perhaps a short adventure, but not better.

I do miss home…