Trout are dumb only in the primary sense of the word. That is, they cannot speak. (To us but they can communicate with eachother) No question about it in my mind! As I have learn’t, they can do a lot more than that!
When you get old and your brain flakes away, your cognitive reasoning drops precipitously until it reaches the level of the trout, birds, mamals, etc. At the same time, the ol’ brain is making advances in animal thought and if you are an astute observer of nature, you can tune in on the trout’s frequency.
At first you can only listen but after a while you’ll learn the trout language and you’ll be talking out loud to them all the time. But you need not talk out loud… thoughts will be transferred back and fourth too.
Later they’ll have picked up the fisher person language…and you’ll be able to converse in the trout language. No need for thought transfer any more they will understand everything you say out loud. By this time you should know most of the larger fish by name.
Fishing protocol demands a proper greeting! Tip your hat and say “Good evening, Fish, I’m here again to catch your a**”. (No sense in sneaking up on these big guys…they know you’re here. They can listen in on your thoughts, remember?)
Here’s a typical communication between me and a big brown of a few years ago.This is how I learned that it does little good to sneak up on the big ones.
Me:
Good evening, Wentworth, how’s the old boy?
Wentworth:
Good, Ol’ Bill, Hows the family. Etc Etc. By the way, I scarred the stuffins out of one of your fishing buddies a half hour ago. He acted as though he’d never seen a 24 inch trout before. I just grabbed onto his little gnat pattern and held on, allowing him to reel me straight in then letting go in the deep water in front of him. He He He, The SOB dove in after me! Ho Ha He He He. The waters only 58 degrees. And he’s one of those guys that talk about TROUT being dumb!
I told him he was too astute for me so I wouldn’t even try for him today and I continued downstream. I lied…I’d be back in about an hour and sneak up to him with a BWO on a 13 ft 7x leader!
As soon as the fly hit the water, he let out with uproarous and hideous laughter…the son of a gun! I walked past his home and heard him say, G’ night ol Bill C ya tomorrow?
I grumbled something like "no you won’t, (but devious Ol’ Bill was already planning that fish’s demise). Then Wentworth said, "that won’t work either HO Ho He Hah…why don’t you pick up some night crawlers or sculpins for us next time…He He He Hah Ho!
G’ night Ol’ Bill.
G’ night Wentworth.
Ol’ Bill
1932
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