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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
I was flipping through one of my old tattered journals the other day, and came across something that triggered a whole string of memories. In my travels, I've had a chance to meet a few characters, and character really is the best word to describe it.

While bumming around the highlands of central Tasmania, sleeping in ditches and getting chased off by Tasmanian Devils, I met one in particular who sticks out in my mind.

The first time I ever laid eyes on Kurzy, I was sitting in the Great Lake Hotel in the town of Miena, if you would call it a town. The phrase gas station and pub would better describe it, but none-the-less it was the only pub for fifty miles, and collected all sorts of strange folk, half of them wearing waders. I was having a beer with a Tasmanian mate of mine, Tom, when a strange character walked through the door, long battered hair, and a face worn by years in the outdoors.

Kurzy was a trout bum, in the true sense of the word. He lived in a tin shack with his dog, owned a beat up ute (that's a pick-up truck in American speak), a 16 foot boat worth more than his house, and subsided by living off the land and collecting unemployment. An envious existence, I assure you, as Kurzy fished whenever he wanted, for however long he wanted.

"Kurzy!" called out Tom, "How ya goin' mate, been a while, you off fishin'?" Kurzy walked up, shook hands, and casually drawled, "Na mate, winds from the east." He knew these waters like the back of his hand, heck he lived right in the middle of at least five of the best lakes in Tasmania, and in his experience, when the wind was from the east, the fishing was least.

I don't think that Kurzy liked me much the first few times he met me, and I told him so. I think he thought I was just another annoying Yankee tourist, but after seeing me hang around the pub for a couple of months, he started to accept me. Kurzy was the kind of guy that didn't really like anyone, but he accepted a few people.

One day we were heading off to fish Penstock Lagoon, a shallow weedy lake filled with large rainbows, up to ten pounds, and a few smaller browns. It was a cold, blustery day, and we'd stopped by his shack for a yarn and a cup of tee. Kurzy told me he wrote poetry, and showed me a piece he'd written, it was framed and hanging on his wall. I quickly scrawled the poem into my journal, and one particular line from it has stuck with me for years; it pops into my head sometimes at random intervals, and I thought I'd share it with you. I'd love to give you Kurzy's full name, to give him full credit for the poem, but unfortunately, I have no idea what it was, because everyone just called him Kurzy.

The Penstock
by Kurzy

Sip the fly's gone, the line it straightens,
The Knee's go weak, and the heart is racin',
Out of the water, what a spectacular site,
That wild brown trout in all it's might.

Early morning, sun just breakin,
Foggy shore line, mist is hangin,
Dun's we're seekin, emergers will do,
The winds in the north west, we'll get a few.

worldanglr
http://www.worldanglr.com/

Calling Fly Fishing a hobby is like calling Brain Surgery a job.
-Paul Schullery
 

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A collector never stops collecting!
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Nice story, keep them coming! Someday soon, I'm going to have to start a journal to keep track of all of those things that work and don't work on the water.

Bill
 

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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
Take my advice and don't wait too long! The year I lived in New Zealand I never kept a journal, because I was too lazy, and now I forget places names and fly patterns. I've kept a highly detailed journal since June, and it has certainly been worthwhile!

worldanglr
http://www.worldanglr.com/

Calling Fly Fishing a hobby is like calling Brain Surgery a job.
-Paul Schullery
 

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Not Quite A Luddite, But Can See One From Here
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RiverFishing

Great work...you made it easy to visualize this guy, which is what a good story-teller should do. I love hearing about "characters." It's so reassuring to know there are some who really live out their own vision of existence instead of settling...and we meet so few.

Mike
:thumb
 
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