fishing new zealand part 2

[Ken Gargett]

Part 2.

We continued on the Deepdale post lunch and saw some truly big trout but they are so so spooky here. Gus had a shot a trophy but a tiny bend in the drift of the leader and it was gone. It couldn't even entice a strike. All that said, it is a river I'd love to have another crack on sometime. Finally, we spotted one about 7-8 lbs, perhaps more, and it took the fly. A few obstacles in the pond but we had a long fight and I knew I had it beat. We had got it in close a few times and it was a serious trout. I could feel it just hanging on and I thought it was gone as we brought it in for the last time. Somehow it managed one last glorious leap – looked spectacular – and as it landed, it flicked the fly. Heartbreaking. Bad language, of the sort not seen on this family forum. I could not believe it. But there is nothing, agonisingly nothing, you can do. Once it is gone, that is it. So we trudged on to the next pond – most of the fish here are in the ponds, rather than just the river.

Gus had a crack at one almost as big and hooked it well. They bolt for cover and this one headed for a large rock in the middle of the pond. Gus was having none of it and in he went. The two of them are doing this sort of ring-a-ring-a-rosey round this rock with Gus forcing it out every time it would try and lodge itself. He was in up to his chest at times. Finally, the fish got a real strong hold and Gus is doing what he can not to lose it and to get it out. This involves mostly just keeping the pressure on until it can stand it no longer. This one was lodged tight. Boris went in with a large stick to try and lever it out. After about ten minutes of this, they realised that they were in fact, fighting a rock. The fish had wrapped them round it ages earlier and buggered off. More bad language.

Any fish out of this river is a bonus.

Gus and I both managed to fail to hook a couple more and we knew the chopper was due and were at the last fishable pool before the chopper landed. My shot and there was a cracker, a certain trophy, in this last pool. Whether it would have gone much past ten, who knows? But surely at least ten, though they can be deceptive. Amazing all, especially me, I get the cast right and the fish nails it and we are on. Problem was it rushed me, rather than take off up the pond, or more as expected, downstream to a massive rock – if it had reached that, we knew we were lost. Boris has lost fish to this rock before. Then the line loops round my left hand. So, I am trying desperately to untangle myself, to get the line back on the reel, to keep pressure on the fish and to keep it away from the rock. Paul Simon should have sung about 50 ways to lose a fish! Somehow, I managed it all but I knew that I had a major problem as the line on the reel, in all the chaos, had really bunched on one side. If the fish made a big run, I knew I was stuffed and that it would almost certainly break off, as it would not peel off evenly. The fish was too fresh to try feeding out line to re-do, and the pool too small – we would have certainly lost it to the rock. Anyway, it headed away from the rock and up and under a ledge, on my side. I put as much pressure on it as I dared and we got it out but back under it went. This went on for about 15 minutes with it going into hiding and then being pressured out, several times. I knew I was winning as it was taking less time, each time it went under. Eventually, we moved it downstream and almost had it in the net. I am always amazed at how powerful and how much stamina some of these fish have – had a few in following days fighting me and a very strong current and doing both with ease. Sadly, this fish still had plenty left, even if I had thought otherwise, and it made a run for the rock. I tried to hold it but as suspected, it broke off immediately, as the line simply couldn't get off the reel quick enough. Entirely my fault. New levels of bad language. This one hurt.

We choppered out but I was a bit despondent about the whole thing, then you remember you have spent the day in a magic location fighting big trout and loving every minute of it (bar a few seconds here and there), and really, that is not a bad day at all. But it was the first time I had ever been skunked in NZ. When it rains, ...

Next day the weather, never great and promising worse, moved in. Rain. We had finished our flying so drove – Boris likes to drive miles and at serious speeds – to the Upper Gray (near two hours at high speed, which I had thought would get you from one end of NZ to the other), a river Boris knows well. The Brown Gray and the Blue Gray meet to form the Upper Gray – I am serious. Boris searched high and low for fish – where he would normally see up to 20, he found one, which Gus hooked and fought, then lost near the end. If the weather comes in and the pressure drops, often the fish will just disappear. We decided it was time to get out, have lunch and move to a different stretch – I still had not even had a cast at a fish. There is a local nutjob farmer, who apparently could not fish with a net and dynamite, who rushes down to the river if he ever sees anyone and takes up a post preventing others fishing. Strange place. He did this so we decided to drive another hour to Larry's Creek.

This was a shallow pebbly river but had a lot of good sized fish, as we later discovered. We gave it a good go but they were seriously spooky here and bolted at the first chance. Gus hooked two and lost both right next to the net. Not happy, Jan! I couldn't even get a strike. Finally, the indicator dipped and I struck in text book fashion. Zip! Nothing! Only later when I went to hook up the fly on the rod did I realise that when I struck , the hook snapped off – breaking in two. Yet another way to lose a fish.

Skunked two days straight. And Gus as well. Not good but the fun was about to start! We had three days left, all from the Lodge with our old guides. Three great days.

More soon and a few random photos, including Boris.

[FlyFishingDude]

Again another nice read Ken. It must be nice to live so close to World Class fishing and scenery... I live sorta close to the San Juan river in New Mexico, fishing is great but no monsters like NZ or Argentina.

Mike