"Snagged." "Break it off", the talk might go as the pram accelerated forward into the hole by the pull of the fish. The angler would wrap the line around his hand and let the fish break it. Or, "That's a good one, look at that head shake", and the pram and fisherman would proceed into the hole, even against the pull of two anchors. To my surprise, no one stopped casting. In fact, everyone seemed to cast right into and over the hooked fish. "The fish is still with the school, and, shaking his head and all, it often excites other fish and there might be another hookup or two just from this one fish," Don explained to me. "What happens when the line is snagged?", I asked. "You'll see. The snagger pulls until the fly runs up the line out of the water, then relaxes. The snagee shakes his taut line and the fly bounces off the line. It all works out with no harm done." About then Don grunted and leaned back, lifting his rod. "Fair hookup", he pronounced. I hadn't seen a thing. He slowly accelerated out of the anchored line of boats into the pool itself. Don struggled to get his anchors up with one hand while still pressuring the fish with the other. Once floating freely, he was soon cranked tight over the fishes back, and was towed back and forth within the pool. After twenty minutes of this, the fish moved out upriver. I kept fishing but followed the fight with my eyes. Eventually, after about 45 minutes, Don netted a dark fish about 30 lbs and released it. He rowed back to his anchoring position. Ones place in a hogline is reserved for only two things, a bathroom trip to the shoreline, and fighting a fish. About then my line came tight. But in lifting against an immovable object, the line slipped through my fingers. I never did get the rod high and under control before the fish moved out. I had no idea whether it was fair or foul hooked. But I WAS connected with a very large fish, and that was exciting and impressive enough. Immediately the pram and I squirted forward into the hole, and was surrounded by flies and lines. Someone thoughtfully threw a net into the back of my pram as I accelerated away from the hogline. I managed to get my anchors in, and settled down to fight the fish. From a small pram and connected to a big chinook there is really not too much one can do. Mostly the fish does it to you. Once cranked above the fish, he just tows you, here, there, wherever. Actually one's chances of landing a fish are better off from shoreline, but it takes a while to realize that. The only advantage to being above the fish is that it eases clearing the line from around any vertical obstacle, a piling or another anchor rope. For the rest of it, one feels about as successful trying to lift a big chinook
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