I can still see that child holding a rod, staring into a large, dark pool. In his eyes shines the glow of those dreams of enormous trout, of incredible casts and battles with the queen of the pool. Such is the spell those imagined casts have cast upon his memory that he will never be able to erase them.
I would dare say that we all carry that child inside us. It’s the part of us that fills us with excitement when facing a new stretch of water, a beautiful cast, or imagining ourselves fighting that big fish that has just started feeding in the middle of a glide. And it is for that enchanted child, for the magic of those mysterious fish—the biggest ones—that for years now I’ve stopped chasing imaginary shadows and instead tried to make those dreams come true.
Locating dreams. How?
Many people may find it surprising that a very high percentage of these fish are caught sight-fishing—or at least after first locating the fish’s area of activity—but that’s how it is. This is the key to catching them, and perhaps the hardest part to learn. Why? Because you need to know how to look, and that isn’t easy. But the reward comes when you see that huge mouth open and engulf your imitation. Unforgettable.
A large number of anglers walk right past these big specimens without ever seeing them. And they’re not small fish, either—but they certainly know where to position themselves and are experts at detecting us long before we detect them.
A curious anecdote: a good friend of mine used to fish a stretch of river where I often went in search of big fish, and he always asked me how I did it—what the secret was. When I accompanied him one day, the problem was simple: he didn’t spot them. He didn’t know where to look or where to search. Now my friend catches far more fish on that stretch than I do.
Along these lines, it never hurts to value the importance of a fishing partner—not only because sharing the joy of landing a trophy is something worth experiencing, but also because four eyes see more than two. In many lighting situations, someone positioned slightly higher or at a different angle can be the eyes of the angler.
Alright, fine, all very poetic… but how, where, and when do we locate them? And of course—how do we catch them? This is fishing, and there are no universal laws for almost anything, but there are certain guidelines that can help us pay special attention when we find ourselves facing a particular holding position.
First, we need to stop and think: these magnificent fish have reached that age for a reason—they are simply the fittest. It’s rare to catch them off guard, in unprotected areas, without depth or shelter from branches, rocks, undercut banks, or weed beds. They also camouflage extremely well and tend to remain motionless, going unnoticed—so keep your eyes wide open at all times. Their weakness, however, is obvious: they have to feed. And generally, their feeding areas, while close to their refuges, are somewhat more exposed.
So, simplifying things greatly, we can say that sometimes the fish is “off,” and other times it is “on.” Naturally, encountering an active fish makes things much easier—but it’s not the norm, even though a large part of success in this kind of fishing lies in being in the right place at the right time.
Since luck isn’t always on our side, we have to learn from our mistakes, turn them to our advantage, and try to stack the odds in our favor. There’s nothing better than remaining unnoticed: moving with real stealth, choosing carefully where and how we step, and minimizing wading areas to stumble upon a big fish. Even so, many times it isn’t enough, and we watch the fish slip away and our chances vanish. A shame. Let’s reflect on where we went wrong—but also realize that we’ve unintentionally done part of the job already: we’ll have to return to that holding lie on subsequent days and pay special attention to that hot spot, perhaps fishing it from farther away or blind. But now we know where that fish lives. Next time, we’ll have the advantage.
When and where?
Throughout the season, both the location and behavior of these fish change greatly, and we’ll need to look for them in different places and with very different feeding patterns.
At the beginning of the season, with cold weather and adverse conditions, we find one of the most favorable scenarios for this kind of fishing. The reason is simple and repeats itself throughout the year: mass hatches. For these fish to move their full weight and feed continuously, the energy balance must be positive—and only large hatches can provide that. Early-season midday Baetis hatches, June ignitas, summer afternoon ant falls, or the multiple evening hatches of calm days all offer prime opportunities to catch one of these fish on the surface.
Early in the season, it’s not just a matter of waiting for one to rise—usually in relatively slow water (it’s cold, they’re not yet strong, and if they have to constantly move up and down feeding on Baetis, they’ll prefer water where effort is minimal). Another highly productive method at this time is streamer fishing, taking advantage of these fish’s voracity, their need to feed after winter and spawning, and their natural preference for larger prey. We’ll look for deep, not-too-fast currents at pool heads and fish at considerable depth—a pattern we’ll repeat if we choose to fish nymphs.
As the season progresses, aside from Ephemerella hatches, it becomes harder to observe large trout feeding on the surface—but their activity remains significant in other layers of the water. Dawn and dusk become increasingly important as days lengthen and temperatures rise. At this time, fish usually occupy their established territories but make small daily migrations to feed—for example, moving upstream at first light to eat nymphs, or down to shallow glides to ambush fry. During the day, we’ll usually find them “off,” sunning themselves or holding in the shade beneath weed beds—but it’s an ideal moment to use all our skill presenting nymphs to sighted fish. These trout need a high caloric intake and are extremely opportunistic, so if we present something attractive within their visual range, we’re likely to provoke a reaction.
With the arrival of summer, things become frankly difficult. Low water, dam releases, and prolonged pressure mean our friends have been through a long season already, and it’s hard to find them actively feeding. Getting them out of “off” mode becomes a real challenge. One of my favorite summer situations is hot afternoons, when these fish often position themselves in shaded margins near the bank, lying in wait for any terrestrial that might fall into the water. Foam terrestrials—from ants to grasshoppers—become our best allies.
Finally, with the arrival of autumn and bad weather, we often experience a kind of early-season revival that leaves us with a good taste in our mouths until the next season.
Gear considerations
Writing about what draws you to this kind of fishing or where to find fish is relatively easy compared to describing the secrets—or tricks, if they exist—that truly make the difference. Often the difference is as thin as a thread—say, 0.10 mm. Those overused diameters that inevitably lead many anglers to lament losing the biggest fish of the day—or of their lives. Let’s assess whether low diameters are truly necessary to fool one of these fish—or any fish. I’m not saying you can’t land them on 0.10, but my experience tells me that the same fish could have been hooked on 0.15, saving it valuable minutes of fight time—something the fish will surely appreciate during recovery.
Fluorocarbon or not? I’m not especially dogmatic on this subject and don’t use fluorocarbon leaders extensively. Its advantages are clear: lower light refraction and reflection underwater, making it less visible, and greater abrasion resistance—very useful when fighting a big fish. But it also has weaknesses, mainly due to its hardness: it tends to bite into itself at knots and self-cut. Anyone who’s tested lines at home knows fluorocarbon almost always breaks at the knot. We need to test different knots and find which one works best with our fluorocarbon. The other drawback is obvious: price. I’m not advising one or the other—just encouraging anglers to consider when each makes sense, and whether it’s really necessary to constantly use a €30 spool of tippet, given how quickly we go through them.
Speaking of knots: never forget that they are the true weak points of the line connecting us to the fish. Testing different knots and their strength takes little effort and teaches us a lot.
One final tip on this subject: constantly check your leader when fishing waters with large fish. We’ve all been there—I know how hard it is to stop and change tippet when you’ve just seen a monster feed. I make this mistake constantly… and many fish break me off because of it. Advice for sale that I don’t always follow myself…
Continuing with gear: large fish often put tremendous pressure on hooks, so choosing the right hook for flies intended for big trout can save you from one of those stories we all tell our friends: “That trout bent the damned hook.” It’s happened to me, and I’m sure to many of you—and we’d all prefer those stories had a different ending.
There isn’t much to say about how to present to these fish—they’re still trout, after all, and the rules are the same, just with a heavy dose of nerves and your heart pounding in your head. But that’s what hooks us. When I present to one of these fish, I feel like a kid again landing my first dry-fly trout. In the end, we’re also fishing for sensations, aren’t we?
The one piece of advice that has helped me most is this: treat every trout you present to—no matter how small—with the same care, concentration, and attention you would give a 2 kg fish. That way, the next time we encounter a big one, we’ll know how to throw a curve cast or a reach, create slack, avoid drag—because we use those tools every day, not just on special occasions.
At close range
Ah… the fights with these true freshwater locomotives… How many mistakes we make, and how dearly they cost us. Because yes—if there’s a critical moment with these fish, this is it. This is where the difference between a seasoned angler and an inexperienced one becomes most apparent—and ultimately, where the coin lands.
The fight doesn’t start when you set the hook—it starts long before. You have to visualize the fish’s possible movements, anticipate every question, and try to solve it before it happens. Later may be too late. Where will it run? Toward me? Into those weeds, trees, rocks? Will it drop downstream? Where will I net it? These questions are always necessary, sometimes impossible to answer—but the clearer the path from hookset to net, the better.
Choosing the position from which to hook the fish is key to success and one of the most crucial decisions derived from those questions. My answer is usually the same: as close as possible—with many caveats, of course. As close as possible without alerting the fish. Why? The advantages are countless—even before the hookset: better drift control, drag avoidance, precise presentation. In the fight, it’s obvious that the less distance the fish has to travel to the net, the better. Fewer obstacles. Being close also allows certain “plays” that often end with the fish in the net in seconds—yes, seconds—even if it’s huge. Or at worst, it gives you far more control than if you’d hooked it at 20 meters.
At close range, we exert the most control and pressure over the fish, and the more control we maintain, the better. Hooking a fish close also lets us use the confusion caused by a strong hookset: while the fish thrashes, we can use the full power of our gear to lift it toward the surface and try to keep it from taking water for a few seconds. Take advantage of that confusion—and in it goes. Big net always. Or very big. It’s amazing how many truly large fish are landed in under a minute. It’s an option I exploit whenever I can—because if the fish doesn’t give me that chance, I know things are about to get much uglier. Knowing the limits of your gear is mandatory; if not at the start, there will be moments later when you must decide how hard to stop the fish—and being too timid is just as bad as pushing too far.
One of the endless debates in this country is reels: automatics or not, drag or no drag. Everyone has their preferences, but when fighting a fish, the best advice regarding reels is this: the sooner you have all the line on the reel and fight the fish using the drag—rather than feeding line with your hands—the better. Sorry, but our sense of touch is nowhere near as progressive as any reel, automatic or not. The goal is control—controlling as many variables as possible. If the fish runs, it’s far better for the reel to give line smoothly than for us to let it slide through our fingers, tangling at our feet in branches, weeds, rocks, boots, nippers… Many fish are lost in those jolts—and the panic of needing to give line when it’s snagged is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I don’t even know how many fish I’ve lost that way.
Awareness
To finish, I ask only for awareness. I know there are anglers who still believe these large trout are enemies of our rivers—ravenous devourers of fry and small trout. Nothing could be further from the truth. Even if their diet includes fry of many species, these trout give us far more than they take. They are the ultimate expression of Darwin: the fittest survive and persist. Reaching these sizes today requires very specific genetic traits that we must allow to continue. These fish are better adapted to drought, reservoir releases, pollution, and predators such as otters, cormorants, mink—and humans themselves, whom they’ve outwitted many times to reach such size without ending up in a pan. These are all desirable traits for future generations.
They are also exceptional spawners: higher egg counts, larger eggs with greater yolk reserves, better fry survival in early stages, better spawning site selection, better mates. “But they’re old and sterile,” some say. As a biologist, I wouldn’t dare judge that riverside—and in 99% of cases, the “stiff” trout people show me is nowhere near the paradigm of an old fish. Old and big are not necessarily the same.
So please—next time you hold one of these fish, think carefully. And if you practice catch and release, handle it properly: don’t prolong the fight unnecessarily, don’t expose it to long photo sessions out of the water, and don’t lay it on rocks or abrasive surfaces. If we fish without killing, it’s our responsibility to guarantee that fish a future. You’re holding a piece of the future in your hands.