As noted in last week’s column, good friend Marc Hoechstetter, an excellent fly fisherman from Cummington, agreed to cover for me while I am out of commission for a week or so by sharing one of his fishing episodes on the Deerfield River. By way of clarification: The surges to which he refers are the periodic water releases from Fife Brook dam in Florida. Al Les was a well-known fly fisherman from North County who fought hard and long to get a “catch & release” section in the Deerfield River. He was dubbed “The father of Catch & Release in Massachusetts” and received the first Silvio O. Conte Sportsman of the Year Award in 1985.
The Hideaway pool
By Marc Hoechstetter
The Hideaway Pool is the largest pool in the lower Catch and Release area on the Deerfield River and the first above the junction where the Cold River meets the main stem. Often bypassed for the upper reaches of the river, it is a prime fishing spot with its own quirks. This account is of my own involvement with this favorite spot and the characters: human, piscatorial and avian encountered.
I first started traveling to the Deerfield to explore its fishery in the late 1980’s. Like most young guys my constraints were time between my work as a builder and a young family. It is no wonder I explored the Hideaway pool as it is at least 20 minutes closer than the Diamond Drill Pool from my home. Back then the river flows were a lot more predictable. The ISO NE in Holyoke which controls all power generation was being built but not yet in full operation. The computers had not quite taken over everything.
One parks at a rail bed access, without blocking the access, and walks along the railroad track a short distance and down to the pool. At first it is rather daunting; a large rectangle 400 feet long by over 100 feet wide, both sides framed by massive oaks.
When I first got there in a late afternoon the flow was low and the only riffle into the pool was drifting bubbles by an enormous rock on the far side. In that feeding lane there were sporadic but consistent sipping rises with an occasional tail splash. I eagerly rigged up and looked the pool over. I could see very large trout lazily moving in the pool but not in any organized way all facing in different directions. It would be like fishing in a still pond.
So why not fish the riffle? Well, there was an older fellow there fishing and catching fish, not fast but deliberately and very relaxed. When he had success, he would chat with his companion on the bank who sat in a folding chair with a cigar box at his feet. I introduced myself and was warmly welcomed and chatted a while. At one point the fellow in the river reeled up, while the one in the chair promptly rose, picked up his rod and waded right in. They met half way to the rock and that was that. The one coming out gave me a warm greeting and sat in the chair. His name was Al Les.
I do not discourage easily so I went upstream and fished the bank against the tracks and discovered some very nice browns trout but it was a trek on the rocks and wading had to be judicious. I could keep an eye on the pool if the old guys bailed. But no such luck. Fisherfolks must be patient, so I kept at it.
One day they did leave and I hightailed it down to the pool, eagerly taking my spot above the big rock to put puddle casts into the feeding lane. I noticed there was more activity and quickly caught a few fish, nice plump rainbows mid-sized maybe as long as 15 inches but not those big ones I had spied before. There was also less rock out of the water and more push against my waders. I headed back to shore in a hurry. Luckily by the time the surge of water gets this far down ts not a wave just a steady rise.
On another occasion on getting there when Al Les and companion were folding their chairs
and packing their cigars, I noticed the water was already filling quickly. I also noticed on the far bank by a white birch partially in the river, some big splashes.
Then I saw it! A five-pound fish came out and it seemed to be in the air an eternity. I decided to figure out how to get there. I walked to the end of the pool where the water splits in two. The first is a long riffle straight to the Junction Pool where a rope hangs from an oak. The second is a wider one that only fills at high water. I powered myself through the first above my knees and then the second one nearly to my hips but made it and worked myself in rather calm water to the white birch. When about twenty feet away, I paused to scan the water.
I noticed some fish were on the surface with their dorsal fins folded over. The largest fish was at the head and really the only one to which I could toss a fly. I sent the Ausable Wulff fly with a little left hook and watched what seemed to be an eternity as the fly drifted on the nose of the big Rainbow.
Then it simply turned its head and inhaled the fly! I set the hook with my left hand and arced the rod to the right, level to the water to set the hook and get the fish going to the right in the pool. Down he went, but soon came up ready to jump. Then I thought a branch from the giant oak tree fell in the water right on the fish in a huge splash. I was stunned but saw no branch; instead, a huge osprey came out of the water with my fish in its talons! I watched her struggle and gradually come up and fly up the river.
My fly line was following the bird like a peach ribbon in the sky until I broke it off. As I stood there in disbelief, I noticed the osprey make a wide turn and with labored strokes fly back towards me and flared right above me to land in her nest. I could see white fluffy necks reach out towards her.
So much with fishing in the osprey’s larder.
Yes, I got water in my waders on my return to shore but made it home safely. Sadly, there have not been ospreys on that pool for years, the nest gradually fell apart, victim to the winds of time and neglect. The bald eagles, fish thieves that they are, have displaced them and now rule the sky above the pool.
Conte Memorial Dinner
Don’t forget about the Berkshire County League of Sportsmen’s (BCLS) Silvio O. Conte Memorial Banquet which will take place at the Cheshire Rod & Gun Club, 310 Curran Road, Cheshire, on Saturday evening, April 22.
This year’s award winners are: Sportsman of the Year – Stephen Sears, Lifetime Achievement Award – Fred Moran (posthumous), John Zuber Award – Eric Dupont and Sportsmen’s Appreciation Award – Joel Miraglia.
There will be great raffles and silent auctions. The social hour begins at 4:30 with dinner at 6:00 pm. Tickets, which cost $40, can be obtained from any BCLS delegate. Don’t wait, they expect a large turnout.
Be safe on the water
Personal flotation devices (life jackets) are required to be worn by: (1) youth under 12 years of age, (2) personal watercraft users, (3) Stand Up Paddle Board (SUP) users, (4) water-skiers, and (5) canoeists/kayakers from September 15 – May 15. The water can be mighty cold this time of year and hypothermia can set in quickly.