To Catch A Trout

The drive to Nagini is a sight for sore eyes with our self-appointed guide livening it up with fisherman’s gossip. Poaching, he says, is rampant, pointing to a villager using a net to catch the fish. There are also instances of people blasting an area in the river to kill fish. But the anglers are a law-abiding lot, he beams, telling us about his all-time favourite, former Army chief General Rodrigues, who left him with four bottles of Scotch. ‘‘Angrez bhi bahut aate hain.’’

Besides trout, which sells at Rs 150 a kg (it is Rs 500 in Delhi), this valley is also famous for hemp (charas or hashish is made out of it) which grows liberally on the hillside. Local dons are known to make brisk business in the hashish trade. ‘‘One of them went to the bank with sackfuls of notes when it opened a branch here,’’ says Jugal Kishore rolling his eyes suggestively.

A few seconds later, just after we’ve reached the gates of the Great Himalayan National Park, it is our turn to be wonder-struck. The cosy cottage set on the banks of the Tirthan with a carpet of yellow flowers simply takes our breath away. Imagine our surprise when we are told it is the Nagini trout farm, one of the five in Himachal Pradesh.

S K Thakur, the resident fisheries officer, is pleased to hear our compliments. Yes, the flowers are his idea and now he has planted some roses. Incidentally, it is here the British first bred the exotic trouts in Himachal. ‘‘The trouts were introduced to India in 1805,’’says Thakur. Today, this cold-water fish can be found in almost every river of Himachal. ‘‘Tirthan, Sainj, Beas, Bapsa river of Sangla…these are ideal for trout-fishing,’’ says Thakur.

The Tirthan flowing here seems especially blessed with its crystal-clear water. No wonder it has inspired a handful of passionate anglers to make their homes here. The flaxen-haired Christopher Mitra is one of them. ‘‘I am an Indian,’’ he demurs when you mistake him for a foreigner. It’s a year-and-a-half-ago that this artistically-inclined 40-something, who was running a school in Delhi, decided to set up Himalayan Trout House.

Today, this achingly beautiful place makes your ticker do a series of flip-flops. A thin road separates the house-cum-camp (with designer baths) from the gurgling Tirthan which runs noisily against the tall moss-covered peaks. Simply out of the world. It’s here we decide to go fishing. With borrowed rods. A keen fisherman, Christopher has got a dozen of them, including one amazingly supple 100-year-old split-bamboo rod with six joints. That, however, is for the wall. We select a more homely rod and special Tirthan lures (baits) — these have been specially made by Christian Eirish, a German-born angler at Palampur, who fashioned the bait after dissecting trouts to find what they eat.

Finally, with the sun beating on our heads, we set forth. ‘‘Do you know bichchoo booti,’’ Christopher asks casually.‘‘Don’t touch these,’’ he adds pointing to a harmless-looking plant, ‘‘for they cause severe itching.’’ We realise the true import of his words when we go hurtling down to the river on a narrow trail flanked by these vicious bootis. One accidental touch and my thumb begins to burn.

Trout fishing is no Hemingwayesque affair. No, you don’t sit in a boat with a book and a drink and proceed to fish for hours. You can’t even stand in the water for long, for it’s ice cold. Here, you hop from one boulder to another, risking a twisted ankle or worse, and cast your line. Christopher is a real expert. ‘‘Aim at the eddy (reverse pool of water) next to a rock,’’ he says. Trouts tend to cling to rocks in search of easy prey, and are likely to bite your lure. Another thing, hide yourself, for the clever fish don’t feed when they see a diabolic human lurking nearby. Navjeet Singh, another keen angler who is based in Chandigarh, believes the further away from the habitation, the greater your chances of success. So, he ventures out to Bathaud, 10 kms ahead of Nagni, where he treks six miles to angle.

What is most endearing about true-blue anglers is that they actually put the trouts back into water after the catch. ‘‘It’s the thrill of the fight that gives us a high,’’ says Navjeet. Yes, for the fish no matter how small tend to fight fin and tail to get away. ‘‘Many of them do make the grand escape,’’ says Christopher.

So do anglers when they leave their workaday worries to commune with the fish. ‘‘There is nothing as exciting,’’ says Christopher. Nor as backbreaking. (Trust us.) But it’s fun. Which is why we call it a day only after promising to make a tryst with our finned friends in Beas and Sainj the next morning. After all, it’s bliss to fish, fish, fish.