One of the best parts about fishing is the element of suspense and discovery that comes with each cast. There are times when you think you know everything about the fish in a particular waterway, only to be proven wrong in the most unexpected ways. Such was a recent experience of mine at a local creek.
The Location & Setup
I have fished this creek hundreds of times before and besides a few suckers, brown trout has been the only species I’ve had the pleasure to encounter. Seeming like a safe assumption that browns were the only species of trout in this water, I had resigned myself to that fact.
As most creeks are, this one is shallow and lined with rocks. With a good rain, it measures maybe 30 feet across at the widest riffle. The spot we’ll be looking at today has a couple of concrete boulders forcing the water into a much narrower section that’s about three feet deep. One side of the water is protected by the root mass of an old tree.
A day before this trip, I set my hook on a fish in this hole but it shook off before I could bring it in. Disappointed, I returned the following day with a GoPro to see what I had missed. Surely it was just another brown trout. But even so, I was determined to get a look at whatever might call this place home. As you’ll see, I wasn’t disappointed.
Rigged to a homemade mount built with a five pound plate and other scraps, I lowered the camera into the water. The rig was positioned a foot or two below the surface and looking across the channel – sure to capture anything that wasn’t too spooked to show its face.
Unable to view the footage in real time, I moved about 50 feet downstream and waited a while for the battery to drain. Finding myself lucky enough to record a trout on the first attempt, I repeated this process about a dozen times over three afternoons.
Observing an Elusive Brookie
The trout I recorded looked different at first glance but between the discolored footage and my previous experience fishing this water, I barely gave a second thought to it being a brown. I even shared a clip on Facebook calling it a brown trout. Fortunately, someone corrected me.
Seeing this brook trout was a reminder of the mystery and discovery that makes fishing so special. Encountering something new and unexpected gave me a renewed sense of excitement and curiosity about the water that I thought I knew so well.
The camera managed to capture some great footage of the brookie feeding quite actively in mostly clear water with a steady current. Getting up close and personal with this trout was a real treat, but it also revealed a few insights about their behavior.
For starters, I half expected any trout in this hole to flee the area or remain in hiding for a long while. Getting the camera mount in the water and positioned correctly was a delicate process, but there was nothing subtle about a five pound plate being lowered into such a small hole.
The brookie was generally startled by my presence of course, but it only hid briefly and would get back to inhaling anything that might provide sustenance within minutes of me walking away. I think this demonstrates a keen awareness of its surroundings.
That heightened awareness could also be seen while it was feeding. More often than I would expect, the brookie would turn on a dime and dart toward the tiniest morsels that were a foot or more behind.
These rearward strikes happened so quickly that I’m inclined to think that this trout could see or feel specks of food drifting in the opposite direction. However, it’s possible that he was simply turning around to see if anything was back there, honing in on a target and then going for it all in the same second or so. Or maybe they were extremely delayed reactions to something that had drifted by.
Most of the surface strikes this trout went for were about 45 degrees behind its primary holding position, undoubtedly so it could move with the current.
One thing is for sure: while it’s obvious that trout are generally watching upstream for their next meal, they are most certainly aware of caloric opportunities that arise from every angle.
A Creek Sucker Appears
As mentioned, it’s rare to see anything but the brown trout that are released in this creek, so I can’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to capture what I assume is a native brook trout. That feeling was only enhanced by the arrival of a creek sucker that appeared on the second day of recording.
The sucker swam in from downstream and approached from behind the brookie. What struck me the most about this development was how quickly and seamlessly the trout adapted to the arrival of this unexpected visitor.
I found it fascinating that a trout of about the same size adjusted to the presence of another fish by drifting to the side of the feeding lane and eventually falling behind the sucker as it came through eating off the bottom.
Despite being in no apparent danger, the brookie seemed to display some semblance of caution or respect for its fellow creek dweller.
Over the course of a minute or two, the sucker moved upstream to continue polishing rocks off camera, though it returned later to displace the trout once more.
It was a unique experience to see these two species coexisting in such a small area and it makes me wonder what other interactions are happening in this creek that I have yet to observe.
Getting Closer (Or Not)
Feeling emboldened by the brookie’s apparent lack of concern over my camera, I decided to place it inches away from his preferred feeding spot at the deepest section in the middle of the water.
This proved to be too close for comfort. I did manage to get a nice shot of him gliding back into position, but for the majority of this recording he adjusted by feeding further to the left and right of the camera.
One thing to note here is that by the third day the brookie appeared to be less bothered by my presence overall. Instead of hiding for a few minutes, it simply moved downstream a couple of feet and hugged the bottom while I waded in the water and jostled the camera around. His quest for nourishment was far more important.
It was remarkable to watch him maneuver. Every action seemed driven by a lifetime of experience and raw instinct. Unlike the intense effort required for me to capture a glimpse of him, his movements were precise and efficient. Large bursts of energy were only spent when absolutely necessary.
His pursuit of calories was relentless, continuing right up until sunset. As the light began to fade, my camera soon lost sight of him, but not before capturing a final surface strike that I happened to see from where I was sitting downstream.
The One That Got Away?
I’ll never know if this brookie was the fish that shook off my line. Besides a few brown fingerlings, it was the only trout I recorded in this hole over the three days.
If it was the same fish, I’m almost glad that he shook free knowing how rare the species must be in this water. Not only did this give me the opportunity to record him, but it’s exciting to know that he’s still out there somewhere.
This experience was a humbling reminder that even when you’ve fished every twist and turn of a creek countless times, you never know what’s lurking beneath the surface.
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