Fishing New Zealand - part 3. The Good Stuff!


Ken Gargett

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By now, we'd finally got Gus to stop wearing his look-at-me sky blue shirts, which must have terrified every fish in the South Island. We tried to explain that there was a reason that everyone else did not wear sky blue shirts. I swear, he could have been seen from space.

Boris had dropped us off at the Lodge after Day 4, and we are both very keen to fish with Boris again, though perhaps not as a tag-team act. It was great to be back at the Lodge. Love this place. If there is a better fishing Lodge on the planet, I'd love to see it. The only problem around here is that this is sand fly central. Leave the tiniest bit of skin uncovered for an instant and you are fly food.

Next day, we are fishing the same river. We normally do different ones and catch up at night but we are both doing the Travers. It flows into Lake Rototiti. Greg and I will do the bottom stretch; Gus and Richard have the walk up for an hour or so and will do the upper part. The trade off is that the fishing is better, usually, in the upper stretch. Also, Greg has spotted a really good fish which he thought might have come up from the Lake and wants another crack at it. Anyone thinking of ducking over to this river and giving it a shot can forget it, after what was to unfold. If I didn't scare the life out of every decent fish in the lower section a little later, then they must be nailed to the bottom of the river. The fish Greg had seen was an interesting one. He originally thought it was 6 or 7lbs and his client hooked it. They nearly landed it several times, if I recall correctly, and that was when Greg realised it was much bigger – maybe 12lbs. Many of the fish in this river, and at the time we fished, were not so long but very solid and in great condition. Heavy, fit fish. The client missed it because the reel fell off – now there is a way to lose a fish I'm yet to try.

There was a log at the very entrance of the river and we immediately spotted a really good trout – 6 or 7lbs, so I stood on the log, almost directly above it, drifting a fly past but no interest. So on we went. Terrific river and reasonable number of fish but again quite spooky. Got one of a couple of pounds but could not get anything else on till we found the spot Greg had hooked the biggie. Bizarrely, we both saw a fish on the gravel bank and agreed it couldn't be it as it was only probably a bit more than 7. Still a great fish. Then we realised that it was a really solid fish and bigger than that. It seems most likely that it was indeed the fish. It moved up the bank for a moment which allowed me to sneak in – there were not very many places to get any sort of a cast as surrounded by trees. It moved back to within a few feet of me but didn't see me. I could see what a great trout it was. Then another trout shot over and spooked it. The other one was probably 6 plus and you could see the difference, but it was all over. I climbed out but there were still probably 4 to 6 good trout in the pond, though we couldn't elicit any interest. I happened to have my fly line behind me in a dead pool a few inches deep ghat was behind us – almost fetid and no flow at all – while waiting for an opportunity to cast when, whack! A good trout grabbed the fly but spat it immediately. Strange place.

We gave up the pond and I was a bit bummed at not even getting a hookup in it. We moved up the river, all boulders and rocks, about 100 metres and Greg spotted a fish. I got in the river well behind it and had a cast – I couldn't see the fish but went where Greg directed. Actually, the first cast was lucky to hit the river but the second was bang on and the fish took it with a half roll/jump and I knew we were on a terrific fish. It went straight into the current, which out wide, was very strong, and headed downstream at a rate of knots. I'm trying to keep the pressure on it and get the line back on the reel and keep up. Greg is chasing me. I'm trying to get it out of the main current into quieter waters where I could have a go at it but no chance. I may have lost some of my Usain Bolt-like pace these days, but I was doing a fair imitation over the rocks. Greg is after me and off comes his pack, cap goes one way and fly box the other. Then I realised we had a major problem. We were fast heading back to the pond but at the head, a huge tree had fallen over at some stage and the branches went well out across the pond – we'd been fishing below it before. Also, as it swung around here, the water is going like it is an Olympic Kayak race course. There were two options and going the land-side of the tree was not one. Either break it off and start again (and bugger that) or go in the water but it was clearly too strong. Greg says he'll hold me from behind – I suggest he hold really tight – but in reality, if things had gone wrong, I suspect he would have been as useful as the proverbial chocolate tea pot – but it would not have been his fault. The current was fearsome.

So we reach the tree and in I go, rod held as far out in my left hand as I can and all the while trying to ensure I keep the pressure on the fish. I grab the first branch and can feel the power of the water. Fish still on. I have to move out a bit to grab the next branch to get around and as I do, the water is so strong, it takes my feet out from under me. So, I'm hanging on with my right hand to a wonky tree branch and the rod with my left while I can see my boots bobbling about in front of me. I have almost no control, except to hang on for grim death as they say in the classics, though that is looking like a bad joke. I have no idea what to do and all I can think of is that if this, or any of the branches go, they'll find my cold, bloated body in three days time, floating in the lake with my rigid fingers still locked around a rod. All I can do is let go and as the current sweeps me down, grab for the next branch, which is a foot away, but all the time, holding the rod out as far as possible to ensure I am keeping the pressure on. And isn't my left arm starting to ache! So I try it and the branch holds – thank the lord I was wet wading as if I'd had waders, they'd have filled in an instant and that would have been stumps for me. I have to do this several times (trust me, it was all a bit terrifying but I was not going to be beaten by the fish if I could possibly help it) and finally, after what seems an age, I emerge on the other side. Greg has managed to go under the branches and helps drag me out, though there is a moment where I am teetering on the edge and it could go either way (yes, still keeping the pressure on – Brownie, I told you that you'd be proud of me!). Fortunately, my fish had hung around the pool, but I reckon I've scared every other fish in it half way across the Pacific after that escapade. Time to concentrate on catching this fish. It is actually still jumping (how on earth I haven't lost it by now is a miracle). We fight on for what seemed like 10-15 minutes (it could have been half or twice that) and finally, in it comes. It goes just a fraction under 8lbs and if it was a 1,000 pound marlin, I could not have been happier. But I decide I'm not really keen to kill myself for a fish just yet, so may not go for the repeat performance.

We collect the gear strewn over the last 100 metres and set off again. Pretty soon, we hook another nearly as good but he heads upstream and straight into the tangle of roots under the bank. Greg's turn to go in and he somehow manages to get it out once but it heads further upstream and back in to the tangle and that is stumps for it, and me.

Further on, we find a good, much bigger pool with at least 6 good trout. We land one, about 5 ½, but it zips about and between that and some wayward casting, we only get the one from the pool. After that, it gets very thin on the ground. Several fish but no interest at all. Last hour or more is a walk in the rain upstream and not a cast. Finally, it is time to head home. We knew the others had a longer walk so had left ourselves a little time to have a look in some of the side streams on the way back, which will take us a bit over an hour and a half or so. First one yields nothing. We push through the thistles at the next one and Greg spots a fish he says is about 3 lbs but feeding well, so we have time to give it a go.

Every other day, you had to drag me off the rivers but after not casting for an hour or two, in the cold and rain and after five big days fishing, the shoulder is giving out and cramping. I can't work out where the damn fish is and am casting like a mad woman's breakfast. I am very close to saying enough and heading back. There are cold beers, warm fires and old rum back at the Lodge. But I slog on and suddenly I see the fish race across the pond and go for the fly (I really had been nowhere near it). It misses and I think well, that is that, as nine out of ten times the fish will disappear now. Apparently not this one. So I cast again and the indicator dips. I strike hard and think for an instant I am on but no, I've hooked the branches lying underwater, create a mess of mud and garbage, and I break off. This would scare a bull shark let alone a timid trout, but not this one. It is still feeding!! Another cast and it nails the fly – we were using San Juan worm flies much of the time, as well as nymphs. Almost no dry fly fishing this time. I realise it is better than 3 lbs; I'm thinking four, maybe five. He heads into a hole just down from me and does not want to leave. I really put some pressure on it to try and force it out, as I want this over as soon as possible. It fights on. Greg starts to wonder if I have foul hooked it as we can't budge it. Finally, we get it out – took quite a while – but there is a big log not far down so have to get it landed well before that or it is gone. We do and it is obvious that this is a very good fish. It goes a whisker under 9 lbs, close enough to claim 9! I am over the moon. What shoulder? Let's keep fishing. But it was back to the Lodge. Gus has got 6 up to 6 ½ so a good day all round. And some terrific people at the Lodge. Greg and Richard always come back for a drink. Days don't get much better.

Greg announces that tomorrow, we'll fish the Sabine. Apparently, Richard and Gus were going to but had said nothing so it is ours. Not so. The extortionist who runs the water taxi across Lake Rotoroa is taking his client there so we are on the D'urville. Gus does the Lethlean and, from memory, comes home with three early fish and nothing late but amongst them a 7 lber. We have a great day on the D'urville. Other than a small rainbow – very rare around here and the first I have caught in all my visits – all of the fish are four to five lbs. I hook 9 and land 8 (had the other one beat but a last jump and the line flicked my cuff – don't ask – and it was gone). They are brilliant fun and in this river, fight much more than most trout that size. Some take me 80 to 100 metres downstream and will not give in. We walk fast and it is exhausting but we reach the gorge early enough to do the walk around and have a crack above, which was great. Fabulous day.

Last day is on the Branch, which I have fished before. We walk down and there is a cracker of about 7lbs (just over, it turns out). But it does not fight at all. Squibs it and comes meekly. Next cast has one about 3 ½ and then I really stuff up one of at least 7 or 8. didn't listen to Greg. Another spooks and I miss another on the strike. All in the first hour and I am thinking we have struck gold. But that is it. Not another fish has the slightest interest. All day. We walk miles, including a couple of very long, extremely steep, muddy cliffs, covered in crap, thorns and wasps. I was down about the day for a while, till you stop and think, not only am I fishing in one of the most beautiful places on earth, Greg and I get on very well and I love fishing with him, but any day you get a seven pound brown is not a bad day, whatever else happens. Gus has got around five (we have a Cup which goes on the line when we fish and the day of the 8 and 9, nudges me over the line – the victory dance is an ugly, but necessary thing).

I cannot wait to come back and anyone serous about trout has to fish this region. And I would thoroughly recommend both Greg and Boris as guides.

KBG

A couple of the fish Gus got. Note the outstretched arms in an attempt to make them look bigger than they are!

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There is about 7 lbs of beautiful brown trout next to that log.

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The Travers.

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The Usain Bolt bolt with the offending tree on the right in the background.

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Tree and current.

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The fish that caused all the problems.

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A back-you-go kiss – this one went about 5 ½.

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Couple of shots of Greg and myself with the 3lber that became a 9!! you can see how fat the belly is.

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One from the D'urville, about 5.

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Great scenery.

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The pacifist from the Branch – refused to fight – but it was a nice fish, nonetheless.

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ta guys.

one thing i meant to mention was that there are strong rumours that the 'musk is full on'. heard it from several people. it means that next season, kicking off in october, could be what they call a mouse year. last one was 2000/2001. these are the years that the trout hit massive sizes and 16 lb plus not unknown.

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As usual Ken, great story and pics.

Mike

mike, it gives an idea of what anyone who was interested in october could expect. they say that in general for the big fish you need to chopper and that can be arranged but this shows you can have a bucket of fun without it. it is expensive, though there are blokes who come out to the lodge twice a year for ten days at a time and chopper every day.

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  • 2 weeks later...
Looks like it was a great trip, any bears in your neck of the woods.

The guys down here in the US have to deal with bears.

no bears, no snakes. wasps the only local problem here, aside from the locals. and lots of possums. kiwis have never really thanked us for giving them possums.

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  • 1 month later...
  • 3 months later...
Wow.. It must be nice to not have to worry about charging brown bears and having a moose stomp you to death on the rivers fishing...LOL

the real joy is not having to whack at every clump of grass and log to make sure there are no tiger snakes, death adders, brown snakes, red bellied blacks, taipans, funnel webs and so on and on.

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the real joy is not having to whack at every clump of grass and log to make sure there are no tiger snakes, death adders, brown snakes, red bellied blacks, taipans, funnel webs and so on and on.

Aw Shucks, What's a little anti-venom between friends........ :buddies:

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:party: wow those are some big fish! what size were the San Juans/nymphs?

not sure if we use the same ratings as you guys but in new zealand, they tend to use very small nymphs. was staggered when i went to chile at the size they used there. also do vary quite a bit but that tends to be from small to very small. longest 'attachment' for the worm was about 3/4 inch. usually closer to 1/2 inch.

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just out of curiosity...were you dropping nymphs off of the worm, or did you have two separate rigs going?

very rarely use the two or three drops in new zealand. sometimes they'll use a dry as the indicator but not that often. don't ever recall using another nymph below the worm though may have used the worm below a dry.

most often the fishing here is by sight and they - the guides - then tend to try whatever they think will work best. they, at least the good ones, will then change as often as they think necessary - sometimes almost after eery cast if you give the fish a look. had one fish one year that i reckon we cast at near on 150 to 200 casts with just about everything in the tackle box. couldn't interest him. that was before they caught on to using worms so i'd love o know if a worm would have excited him but will never know.

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interesting...sight fishing is exciting for sure, I would kill to land as many fatties as you did

back there for two days in 10 weeks - that will be an overnight in the back country with a german guide called boris who is, bizarrely, one of nz's absolute top guides. we are planning on heading to the deepdale which is a big fish river but an absolute bugger to actually catch any in. i think it was part two of that story.

then a month later, will have a few more days back there at the lodge with greg - usual guide. keen to head back to a few of the same rivers.

i cannot wait.

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  • 6 months later...
back there for two days in 10 weeks - that will be an overnight in the back country with a german guide called boris who is, bizarrely, one of nz's absolute top guides. we are planning on heading to the deepdale which is a big fish river but an absolute bugger to actually catch any in. i think it was part two of that story.

then a month later, will have a few more days back there at the lodge with greg - usual guide. keen to head back to a few of the same rivers.

i cannot wait.

This is the kind of trip I'm looking forward to doing......

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I agree with others- I have read the three parts and have really enjoyed this. Ken- you should consider being a writer! :)

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