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no nie do końca. Gdyby wody starczyło mozna by je tak pogrupować że każdy miałby taka wodę na jaką go stać ( w pieniądzach lub realnej robociźnie). I tak ci zorganizowani i bardziej majetni łowili by na super łowiskach. A ci bezrobotni na darmowych. To oczywiscie uproszczenie ale elaboraty to pisze Krzysiu. Po prostu oferta może i powinna byc zróznicowana. A te najcenniejsze wody mateczniki muszą mieć limitowaną ilość łowiących i to drastycznie. Inaczej będą łowiskami z hodowlakami . I wtedy rzeczywiście możnaby na nich łowić wtedy kiedy się dostanie bilet a nie wtedy kiedy się chce. No i nie kasa by decydowała. Są takie łowiska gdzie na odcinek rzeki jest JEDNA licencja. Tylko do tego wszystkiego trzeba dorosnąć. Do tego czasu przy obecnym tempie dewastacji naszych rzek możemy nie doczekać. No i kolega tak hipotetycznie przedstawił cechy idealnego łowiska. I tu sie z nim zgadzam. Co nie znaczy że wierzę w mozliwość realizacj w Polsce. Jednakże takie łowiska istnieją i dlatego chetnie na takie jeżdżę jak mam czas 
Tomek
sadze ze wiekszosc z nas chce poprawy jakosci wod i ilosci ryb w rzekach ale dotychczasowe zarybienia skupiaja sie na pewnych tylko odcinkach przez co ryby te sa szybko wylawiane przez wedkarzy i klsownikow co czyni takie zarybianie syzyfowa praca i tylko niewielu moze sobie polowic ( a powinno byc powedkowac i co jakis czas zlapac rybe,) .Jesli by np. 1000 szt pstraga wpuscic na 15-20 km. rzeki zamiast na 2 km. to ryby te maja wieksza szanse na jakies nawet przypadkowe tarlo i klusownicy nie maja latwego polowu bo zlowi najwyzej 1 szt przez pol dnia ,czyli nie oplaci mu sie zwiekszone ryzyko czestrzego klusowania i dluzszego czasu nad woda.prawdziwy wedkarz bedzie mial wieksza frajde z wytropienia i zlowienia bardziej zdziczalej ryby ( i tu az sie prosi o wstawienie opowiadania ktore zawsze kojazy mi sie z [*] Tonkinem
jest to oryginalna wersja angielska z mojej ksiazeczki czlonkowskiej S&DAC
jak znajde czas to przetlmacze ,a poki co sorki
Cuthbert's Last Stand: Gordon Mackie
Cuthbert had become an impressive specimen. Born in the river some six yea
rs back, a mixture of the right genes and luck - for he was one of the first from the egg - had given him a head start, so that he quickly outgrew most of the young trout of his generation. He had seen many of his brethren gobbled up by larger trout, or by the perch or kingfisher, but somehow Cuthbert's reflexes, his instant awareness, and his speed off the mark had always allowed him that split second advantage over his fellows.
The predators of which Cuthbert was most wary were the heron, whose stealthy approach was difficult to detect, and the pike which sidled up alongside him, looking so innocent and friendly, yet as he had seen would snap up an unsuspecting trout :in a flash. He had developed the habit of dropping downstream frequently to chase away any fish encroaching on his beat, and while doing so kept a constant watch for his long-legged foe. As for the pike, he had learned to recognise the restless signs and knew when to make himself scarce.
Cuthbert had the greatest respect for these natural enemies, and remained ever vigilant. But those shadowy figures, the anglers, with their waving sticks and long lines which fell on the water were another matter. They were not predators in the strict sense, killing for food, but were nevertheless capable of removing large numbers of his colleagues on occasion. Some were released, but others he never saw again.
He felt no sorrow, for if they were unable to see anglers standing on the bank and took their lifeless lures of fur and feather they had it coming. As it was the majority of those caught were the 'newcomers' anyway, those silly creatures which the same shadowy figures introduced in their hundreds. They relied on luck, and the law of averages; cover enough water, cast repeatedly, and you should catch fish. Cuthbert viewed the whole business with some disdain. The newcomers were stupid and so, he thought, were the anglers he could spot so easily.
Thus it was that as the years passed Cuthbert grew big, bold and confident. But in his eighth season, while his shoulders were as heavy as ever, his food intake became insufficient to maintain his lower body in prime condition, while those excursions in defence of his territory began to tire him more quickly. In June he rose to the mayflies as usual, preferring to wait until no shadowy figure was about.
Today, having scanned the horizon, he fed with abandon, trying to make up the few ounces he had lost.
But through the grass and reeds there stalked an angler. Like a cat he paused, crept forward, and paused again, knowing Cuthbert's movements well. For two years he had watched and waited. Never once had the great trout seen him, although on two or three occasions the fish had inspected an unusually lifelike pattern which had settled gently on the surface above him and drifted on the current just as the naturals did.
Like the heron, this angler froze for long periods; like the pike, his sly movements were almost imperceptible. His head did not appear in the fish's field of vision, his rod was held low, and his cast was a horizontal one. The fine leader curved slightly upstream, the breeze caused the fly's wings to quiver invitingly above the water, and Cuthbert opened his cavernous jaws.
Quickly, the fish plunged away towards the weedbeds, shaking his head, but too late. The fisherman had lain awake many a night, planning each move, anticipating every conceivable run his old friend could make, and when he was on the bank he felt a poignant mixture of elation and sorrow.
The trout knew that his compassionate adversary, in the knowledge that Cuthbert was past his best would spare him the pain and indignity of a lingering death.
For here was a true angler and a sportsman - one in a thousand perhaps - for whom Cuthbert felt the same kind of respect he had shown to those predators in the wild.
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