Unlikely Friends

By Dipping Bridge there lived this trout
a proper little smarty,
he was golden brown with bright red spots
some would say a trifle tarty.
In his own deep pool he was the boss
he’d put on airs and graces
by often swimming back and fore
keeping minnows in their places.
A dozen times a day he’d say
(making other fishes winch)
“I think I must have royal blood
I ought to be a prince”.
He’d lord it over all his palls
and cut a mighty dash
by jumping out occasionally
and landing with a splash.

And in a red hot summer
when the sun began to burn,
his mates would fall to spinners
(Well they had a lot to learn).
It’s only in the evenings
in those cool and shallow runs
he’d feed on gnats and sedge flies
and now and then on duns.
He loved an August downpour
when the river running spate
would bring down snails and beetles
and fat worms for his plate.
Then when the water cleared
he’d find clinging to the weed
water shrimps and caddis grubs
and on these he would feed.

He learnt to tell the difference
how a natural worm should look
compared to one restricted
by a size 12 mustard hook.
He did find out the hard way
about artificial flies
thank God it only pricked him
now he’s cautious with his rise.
But summer days pass by to soon
autumn brings with it a flood
he’d get under roots for shelter
from the stones and sticks and mud.
Then suddenly it happened
when into his pool there splashed
a fish whose like he’d never seen
and his regal hopes were dashed.

He’d seen big sewin in his time,
stockies and fish like that,
but nothing quite like this one
so long and broad and fat
and as this fish swam ‘round the pool
big, bold and so well fed
you could see that it had sea lice
a hooknose and massive head.
It really looked colossal
as it stirred up all the water
trout took some drastic action
not to come in for the slaughter.
He swam for home and made it
safe in roots under his tree
and later when thing settled down
he peeped out just to see.

The trout was most uneasy
with this fish so big and large
and watched it swim around the pool
making bow waves like a barge.
From now on he’ll be cautious
what a length from kype to tail
perhaps it is a sturgeon
or could even be a whale.
From the safety of his old tree roots
trout said, “ You ugly mug,
What right have you to charge in here
behaving like a thug?”
“It really is bad manners
to scare us from our wits
and look at those poor bullheads
they’ve all had forty fits.”

The salmon looked and saw the trout
then giving such a frown,
“Do you realise who you’re talking to?”
he said as he turned down.
“For your size you’ve got a lot to say
you skinny little thing,
be careful what you say to me
because I am the king”.
“I’m big and strong and handsome
and when I get the notion
I’ll be breeding in a little brook
then returning to the ocean”.
The little trout felt humbled
to have a “royal” in his river
so he quietly came out from his den
with all his fins a-quiver.

Trout said to him “Your majesty,
I never realised,
just who you were, forgive me
may I apologise?”
“I spoke too soon I’m sorry
and now I do regret
I should have known much better
so hope you will forget”.
King salmon humped and champed his jaws
and then said with a grunt
“I’ll not hold it against you
you silly little runt”.
“I’ve had wimps like you for breakfast
but suddenly I find
since arriving in fresh water
my appetite’s declined.

Trout did his best to please him
but for a while at least
he kept a good length distance
through the uneasy peace.
He told the trout about the sea,
showing off with so much style
while reminiscing about his journey
around Greenland and Faroe Isle.
“It’s not all honey in the ocean
though we live and eat like kings
on prawns and squid and sand eels
and lots of other things.
We must watch out for baited lines
but worst of all for certain
are drift nets off the Irish coast
all hanging like a curtain”.

“I’ve even seen a net at Ogmore
where I thrashed ‘till it was torn
just to get into the estuary
to the stream where I was born”.
“I carry scars from seals as well
so for certain there’s no doubt
that I’m the king and powerful
and you’re a piddly little trout”.
He showed trout no compassion
then he saw across the stream
something dart and dip and hover
a gourmet salmons dream.
Trout shouted, “Don’t go near it!
Those things cause fish to die
we see them often in a season.
That one’s a Blue Charm fly”.

But salmon wouldn’t listen
he flicked his tail and went
head first into trouble
and the angler’s rod was bent.
We don’t know why he took it
for he had no need for food
he should have kept his energy
for producing a new brood.
He waited for a moment
then he hurled out some abuse
on realising he was hooked,
well…… all hell broke loose.
He flared his gills to breath in
pushing blood into his muscle
and raising up his dorsal fin
put his back into the tussle.

With metal hook in scissors
he jumped to such a height.
The angler’d seen it all before
but he near died of fright.
And stumbling over slippery stones
heart having palpitations
ensuring that his net was close
for early celebrations.
The little trout was frightened stiff
what could be done for best?
He saw King Salmon tiring
and getting so distressed.
It was a good strong leader
and the fly was tied on well,
Is there a weak link somewhere?
There was no way to tell.

The salmon swam in circles
then through fast water he surged
the little trout was helpless
but “keep pulling back,” he urged.
The trout began to panic
at this catastrophe
and wondered if his friend the king
would ever return to the sea.
Trout said, “Quick…. swim over here,
under roots of my big tree”
Where they wrapped the nylon ‘round and ‘round
in an effort to pull free.
The Salmon had a breather
and a little stoke of luck
he shook his head, was pleased to find
the leader firmly stuck.

The salmon’s heart was pounding
but he heaved with all his weight
and encouraged by his friend the trout,
he pulled the big hook straight.
Free at last and grateful
he swam to the trout’s side,
there was hardly any damage
but severely dented pride.
With the salmon now subdued
he said with humility
“You saved my life I’m stopping
all this talk of hierarchy”.
From then on things were different
they cast prejudice aside
the salmon vowed, where trout’s concerned
he’d give respect and pride.

They showed affection for each other,
but for the difference in their size
you’d swear that they were brothers
and then you’d realise.
The salmons urge to get upstream
saw him poised just like an arrow
as he waited for another flood
to get up to the Garw.
Then suddenly it happened
and pouring down with rain
the salmon said “goodbye dear friend
I’m moving on again”.
“I’ve got this powerful urge to spawn
for breeding I’m hell bent
look out for me when I descend
but then I’ll be a Kelt”.

News travels fast in rivers
a message to the fact
told later on that week-end
about the spawning act.
But salmon never did come down
(The bad news made trout cry)
of salmon struck by U.D.N.
he did succumb and die.
With thoughts of rigor mortis
no more was trout conceit
such a sad and sorry story,
he had no wish to repeat.
to think that he once knew the king
the ruler over all,
it only goes to prove one thing,

Pride goes before the fall.

“Peter Ross”