Is a route canal dangerous

rummage around on the ground. It is relatively rare to see fish just below the jetty. The hunting fever grabs us immediately. I climb over the granite blocks of the bank reinforcement down to the water. Here I intend to use my tried and tested method, namely placing the dry fly at random. As I look up at Antoine on the bridge, I see him gesticulating wildly. Its fly rod points perpendicular to the water. I'm going crazy, I tell myself, he's got a fish on the line. Let's go back over the stones and up the stairs to the footbridge. As I arrive at the top, the role whistles. The tail is bent more than in a semicircle and has no nerve. The animal pulls mightily under the weir towards the lake. "I have a fourteenth on it, she took the tiny dun, but didn't see it," he explains. "We barely have a chance to land it the way it pulls," I comment. The fish is acting strange, strange to us. Usually a trout jerks at the thread, jumps or flees in panic. Not like that here. Our fish presses unrestrainedly and evenly under the weir.

Who pulls like that, is it a plastic bag again? 
It reminds me of an experience far back. I had a huge chunk of fish on the line, it behaved just like the guy now. He pulled and pulled. In the end I ended up with a plastic bag.

Antoine gives constant counter pressure. When the fish is calm, it tries to drag it out of the depths. So it goes back and forth. After twenty minutes he asks me to take over, "my wrist, I can no longer" he groans. We regularly stretch our necks down to recognize him. The channel has to be deeper than two meters because we cannot see the bottom, even with this crystal clear water. We agreed that the only chance to defeat the fish was to constantly exert pressure and tire it with the utmost care. How do you land a trout from a bridge around eight meters above the water? Antoine had the answer, or at least it was an idea. "Hold the rod and give me your Orvis, I'll try something from below." Once there, he began to throw my fly in the direction of the taut leader. After about three attempts it worked. The flies are graylings! We were amazed at the catch. It was a big lake trout. Presumably she had found the way from the lake, down the fish ladder, which was perfectly laid out between river and lake.