John Stephens concludes his River Kupa Lodge Chronicles.
Lunch with friends: Zac, Dave and myself
Fabrice, Alex and Zac
Our morning’s fishing done we climb up to the quaint little Risnjak National Park lodge. It’s one of those warm, balmy days of summer. The high pressure has been building all morning, with cotton wool clouds sailing like great sky galleons in the blue dome above us.
Lunch alfresco above the river Kupa is a leisurely, congenial affair. Bread, local cheese, smoked ham and pickles, all washed down with an ice cold Ozujsko Pivo. What more could contented fly fishers like us ask for?
Our two French companions, Fabrice and Alex, have had a good morning, fishing above the bridge.
“We caught some nice grayling. The biggest around 35 centimetres.”
Alex, who is still something of a novice looks duly pleased with himself as he shares a picture of his biggest fish so far.
“Dry fly or nymph?” Dave enquires.
“All on the nymph. Size 16 olive gold head,” affirms Fabrice.
“For the Park, tungsten bead flies,” Zac advises. “Copper, is good. You also have weighted Caddis grubs - olive and brown, they like.” confirms Zac. “This afternoon we go up to the source of the Kupa. There are some big fish, and if we are lucky they will be rising. These are what they will be taking.”
He opens a box of little CDC dries; they are size 18 Olives, all tied with the characteristic delicacy of this gentle giant.
Zac’s Bead Head Nymphs
Zac’s CDC Olives
“We try these when we see the rise come on. We need to wait till late afternoon, when the sun is down in the sky. Is then time for the dry fly. I show you.”
Dave tells us about his morning encounter with a young blonde lady, who came along the river to check for fishing permits.
“She had a big Golden Labrador with her. I asked her if it was a guard dog. “Yes,” she says. “There are bears here and so I have the dog to scare them off.” I told her that we have a guide called Zac, and he does the same thing.”
“I tell you about the bears,” says Zac. “You don’t believe me. They are here, but don’t worry, when they see you, Dave, the crazy English man, they run away.”
Above us white cumuli are piling high in the bluest of blue skies. It’s just one of those picture perfect days. Below, the river glistens in the sun; flowing smoothly beneath the bridge, then tumbling through a series of boulder-strewn riffles. The magic of this river is soon calling us back.
Fabrice and Alex decide to fish below the bridge, whilst we head off upsteam with Zac to find the source of the Kupa. It’s a trek of just over a kilometre through the beech woodland.
As we make our way every now and then there are glimpses of the river. It’s a mix of smooth limestone glides interspersed with long glittering freestone riffles. It’s the kind of water just made for ‘cast and wade’ fishing. One of my favourite ways to fly fish is to wade margins, looking for features, looking for fish to cast to. As we move up steam, I am reminded once again of my time in Montana, fishing the Madison river, just outside the little western town of Ennis; a real fly fishing gem. Very different fish, very different flies, and a very different landscape, but still, there’s just something so familiar about the river here.
Eventually we emerge from the trees and the river is again before us; a big flat calm pool, which ends in a broad limestone shelf. The crystal clear water from the source spills across it, then chuckles and bubbles through a series of boulders and pools on its way down through the wooded valley.
Below us a fisherman stands in the river, his line looping back and forth through the heavy afternoon air. We pause for a moment to watch him as he casts across the river, just above the boulders, letting his fly swim on the current, down through the pools, where the grayling lie in wait. It is one of those magical scenes; all stillness save for the half distant sounds of the river rushing between the rocks; the man, his rod and the looping line.
We are well upstream of the man, but Zac calls out to him.
“Entschuldigen Sie uns. Aber vielleicht überqueren wir den Fluss hier hinter dir? (Excuse us, may we cross here behind you?)”
The man gives us a sideways glance and carries on fishing.
We start to cross the river.
The man turns and stares at us. He is clearly not well pleased.
“Entschuldigen Sie uns! (Excuse us)” Zac calls out again.
We wade further out. The man stops fishing and stares back at us in disbelief.
“Was glauben Sie, was Sie da tun? (What do you think you are doing?)”
We stop mid stream and stare back at him. It’s all a bit too late now.
“Scheiße, du hast meine Angel ruiniert! (Shit! You have ruined my fishing)”.
Zac gives the man a frown, followed by a few choice words in German.
“Sorry, mate,” adds, Dave. “We thought you were fishing down, not up.”
“Sie scheißt” (You shits!)’ the man fumes.
“Same to you, Fritz, old mate,” Dave answers. “Some people think they own the bloody river.”
“Leave it,” advises Zac.
“He didn’t like the look of you, Dave. Thought you might have designs on his good lady.”
On the bank above us, a rather attractive lady is stretched out on recliner, soaking up the sunshine. By the time we reach her husband has returned to his fishing.
“Lovely day for it,” says Dave.
Behind her expensive looking sunglasses the woman ignores him and continues reading her book.
Around the next bend the scene that appears before us drives all thoughts of the river crossing out of our minds. For beside a group of little forest dwellings lies a beautiful emerald green lagoon. On one side a frothy white spring spreads like shimmering lace over a limestone beach. On the other side the lagoon nestles beneath the forest, its colour deepening in the shade of the overhanging trees.
The source of the Kupa
Deep beneath the lagoon the source of the Kupa emerges from a chasm, which reaches far down into the limestone karst; exactly how far is not known. Speleologists from Zagreb have explored the chasm to a depth of 150 metres and were unable to determine its depth. It is one of those unsolved mysteries of nature, which firmly puts us in our place.
The famed Croatian botanist and mountaineer, Professor Dragutin Hirc gives a captivating description of this place in a book entitled Gorski Kotar, published in 1898. It’s a delight to read and to imagine what it must have been like when he first found the place for himself.
‘The path leads past an older house on the slope of the hill and then you arrive at the green source of the Kupa River. What a rare sight! The peak of Kupeški vrh rises up 300 m above the Kupa. When you look from hill to hill, there are no settlements to be seen, not a soul in sight, nowhere a human voice. The ear can distinguish only the sound of the dearly flowing water. How pleasant and lovely it is in this solitude. This is not the home of human evil, vileness, hatred, discord or envy, but is the home of peaceful souls, the home, according to the legend, of the mountain fairies. A man would leave the world, if that were possible, and move here, to live a blessed and peaceful life. The water in the spring at the source of the Kupa is dark green, turbid and completely calm. Only when a grayling jumps to catch a fly or a damselfly nymph, does its surface gently break. The water is icy, too harsh for the trout, which inhabits the Kupa downstream. If you stand in the water, it is as though you are in a live bed of coals, and when you come out, the pain makes you bend over, and jump in place to ease the pain.’
Without a doubt the source of the Kupa is a place of almost mystical tranquility. Sitting beside the lagoon, just soaking up its serenity; the colour of the water and the sheer beauty of the setting is the quintessence of nature. It is a place now forever fixed in my memory.
Dave and Zac at the source
As we sit and contemplate the idyllic scene the first few drops of rain begin to fall. Above us clouds have been building all day and now one of those warm summer showers suddenly erupts and sends needles of rain sweeping across the lagoon. We head to one of the houses and duck for shelter beneath its raised wooden terrace.
“Now, you will see the grayling start to rise,” says Zac. He beams one of his winning smiles, pleased to be here, showing us this special place. “You will see, when the rain comes, the grayling rise. Look, there…”
He points to the lagoon and there in the middle of the rain dappled lagoon circles of rising fish begin to appear. It’s just like someone has flicked a switch; suddenly there are fish everywhere.
“Come on, Guys,” says Zac. “We switch to dry fly. Here!” he hands us two of his CDC Olives. “Tie these on.”
Then, with no hesitation on anyone’s part we are out in the rain, casting to the multiplying rings. It’s truly amazing to see. There are rising grayling everywhere and we are all immediately into fish. Almost as soon at the fly hits the water a fish comes up and nails it. The competition is such that the takes came fast and furious – and they are lightning fast.
Grayling in the rain
We fish on through the rain. We are all getting very wet, but hey, so what? The rain is warm. It hangs across the pool like a shimmering silver veil; the sun glitters through it casting a huge rainbow over the river below us. Grayling.
Casting to rising fish in the rain is magical. There is something of childhood here. It reminds me of a time long since past, when I first swam with my sister in the rain off on a summer holiday, off a beach in Cornwall; we were camping in St Austell Bay. It was in a time when the days seemed to last forever and tea-time was always an age away. Fishing here at the source of the Kupa, in the rain, somehow takes me back to that golden time. And I guess that’s the magic of great fishing; it has the power to transport you into a place that is timeless, that is just filled with experience and nothing else.
Zac with a pretty little fish
By the time the rain subsides I have forgotten how many grayling I have brought into my hand. They are all lovely wild fish that fight well above their weight. As the surface of the lagoon returns to its mirror like reflections of the surrounding forest, the rises begin to peter out and soon all is still again.
“Wow,” says Dave, “that was something I won’t forget in a hurry.”
“I tell you is good fishing here, eh?” says Zac. He is beaming all over with pride, and rightly so. The source of the Kupa has really delivered everything that he promised it would: spectacle and supreme fishing. It’s the sort of place that you just have to come back to; and as we trek back down through the forest to meet with the others it is a silent promise that settles into the back of my mind. I’ll be back.
Fabrice with a nice grayling from below the bridge - courtesy www.aspe-angler.com
Ahead of me Zac and Dave tramp back along the forest path, steam rising from their sodden fly jackets and tea shirts. By the time we reach the bridge I am almost dry.
“Did you scare any bears?” asks Fabrice, as he shows us one of the fish from below the bridge.
“Not this time,” says Zac. “They knew Dave was coming, so they all ran away. But I can show you a bear, if you like to see one?”
Making our way back to the Lodge we decide not to take the road construction route. With all the rain this afternoon it would be madness to try it. So we drive back along the 657, on the Slovenian side of the Kupa. It’s a ‘long and winding road’, as the song goes, but when we reach the village of Osilnica, Zac pulls over at the Hotel Kovac.
“I think we stop here for a beer or a coffee, whatever you like. We have earned it. The sun is shining again, so we sit on the terrace. Maybe we have a pitza, eh? Is good?”
“Is good, Zac.” we all agree.
As we step inside the hotel foyer, there in all its glory is our bear. It’s the photo opportunity of the trip.
“Difficulty is, Guys, which one is Zac?”
Dave, ever the joker, has waited for this moment.
Dave, Zac and the Bear
This has been our last day on the river Kupa. Tomorrow we leave the Lodge and drive back to Zagreb for our flight to London. All good things must come to an end. Without doubt our stay at the river Kupa Lodge has been an experience that will remain us until we return. And no doubt we will return.
For more information visit: www. riverkupalodge.com