It's fishing Jim, but not as we know it.

A couple of months ago I was invited by the principal of my school to go fishing with him. As I used to be quite a fisherman myself, we had already discussed fishing in Japan; trips had been mentioned drunkenly, but I never really expected anything to come of it. In Japanese schools there is a rigid hierarchy in the workplace, so when the trip came to fruition, I felt honoured to have been invited. However, it wasn’t fishing as we know it.

I rolled up at 8:02am on the Saturday morning at the designated meeting point, to find that all three of the other members where already waiting. The Japanese are extremely punctual, so when they say 8:00am they mean it. Feeling slightly guilty for being so late, I made my apologies and we were on our way.

We set off toward the river, going from major road to minor road to narrow lane, to dirt track. As the width of the road decreased, the beauty of the scenery increased. We wound up a small mountain path that eventually opened out at a little hut. I stepped out of the car, to be surrounded by lush mountain forests shrouded in wisps of mist and a beautiful crystal clear river rushing down the mountainside. I was quick to agree with the principal that this was indeed a “beautiful rocation”.

The principal went to speak with the man who owned the fishing there, and we were soon walking up to the river to commence the hunt for the mighty trout that were said to inhabit these waters. By moving some of the rocks and boulders, the short stretch of river had been divided into a series of deep pools. I chose a pool, took the rod provided by the principal, and with a salmon egg for bait, I was soon attempting to lure the trout from their lairs.

My principal, was quick to strike, and had soon pulled out several small rainbow trout from the pool he was fishing in. Unfortunately, I wasn’t having so much luck in my pool, but unbeknown to me, my “luck” was about to change. The owner of the fishery came trudging up to the bank, bearing a large barrel. He then proceeded to pour the contents of the barrel into the pool I was fishing in. The barrel contained in the region of twenty five small rainbow trout.

I then realised how this was working; the fish man breeds rainbow trout. You pay the fish man for a barrel of fish, which he then deposits into your pool. You then proceed to catch the fish he has just put into your pool. This was not partially challenging. The trout have no where to go, and are most likely starved before being put into the pool hence they tend to go for your bait without much hesitation.

After about an hour – I was a little bored of hooking trout – but my principal insisted I catch all twenty five trout that had been put into the pool – after all, he had paid for them.
At around midday, we took our haul of trout, (the biggest of which can’t have been more than 20cm), gutted them, salted them, skewered them and cooked them over a fire. We then ate them Japanese style, i.e. eat everything apart from the head. Fins, bones, and most of the spine go straight down the hatch. I was a little reluctant at first, but they we actually pretty tasty.

It was a very pleasant experience to be sitting there in a forest, munching down broiled trout, with my senior colleagues; the generosity shown to me by my workmates has been much appreciated, and has made me feel very welcome in Japan. I think the principal made the perfect end to the day when he announced to me that: “they taste so much better when you’ve caught them yourself”.

As easy a shooting fish in a barrel?

Not half.