Smelly, tired and severely jet lagged wasn't enough to contain my excitement when Alastair (my brother) picked my up from the airport!
If you have been to Queenstown before, as you fly in the town is set on lake Wakatipu surrounded by snow capped mountains and with the sun shining I literally thought to myself I am never going home! With a 2 hour drive to Te Anau ahead of us we went for something to eat.
Now I have had my fair share of beef burgers and when Al said we have to go to a burger shop I must admit it didn't really excite me. Now for anyone out there who thinks you have tried the ultimate burger, think again. This isn't any burger this is a FERGBURGER!! Casually known to be the biggest and best burgers in the Southern Hemisphere! With a choice from fish to venison, beef to chicken these monsters really will fill you up for a week! So with mouth watering and food in our belly after stopping off for my fishing licence we jump in the car and head south in Al's slightly battered green Daewoo with 200 000 miles on the clock and still going strong.
The Matoura, about an hours drive south of Queenstown, is regarded as one of the most prolific rivers for trophy brown trout and being a brown only river allows these fish to grow to monsters however these are fished for heavily and will be seriously weary of any jet lagged Englishman thinking he can catch them like trout in the UK.
We pull up on the side of the road at our chosen access point still dressed in my travelling wear I quickly rip open my burgen and pull out a pair of shorts, a fishing shirt, crocs, cap and Polaroids. Get changed on the side of the road whilst Al is tackling up and away we go almost skipping across the field in excitement and anticipation to get the chance to catch a fly to a trophy brown trout whilst sight fishing!
Now I have an OK eye for spotting fish from my time on the Grimersta where we would lie on the bridge overlooking the bridge pool and watch the salmon usually totally ignore our flies and sometimes watch a take, however salmon are not trout and these Brownies truly are camouflaged to the untrained eye.
Al, "there one sitting just at the head of this pool"
Me. "is there? I cant see anything............oh maybe......is that him? Yep can see his tail!! Right here goes..."
So I enter the pool armed with two nymphs a pheasant tail with a tungsten bead trailing a Pogo Nymph (one of Stu Triponey's a local guide and FFF master Caster designs. Fished the only way here, New Zealand Style with a clever design of a small piece of white wool attached to the upper leader acting as a bite indicator.
I enter the river thinking this water seemed so much warmer looking at Al's pictures from the UK when in reality the chilly bite was making its way up my legs as I wade deeper. But the excitement and anticipation was more than enough to shrug the chill off. As I entered having spent the previous 10 minutes learning what to look for when trout are in the water I spotted another one, smaller but a brownie none the less.
So here goes, bearing in mind I hadn't picked up a fly rod for 6 months and am now trying to cast a heavy tungsten fly with a 15 foot leader using a 9" 5# rod into the wind with pin point accuracy, I cast to it landing the flies just behind him, more line needed, so I strip more line off the reel listening to that beautiful click of Al's old Orvis Battenkill reel thinking to myself I would love to here that sound when this fish goes for a run attached to my line! Cast again, the flies land the right distance but a little to the right, another cast a little to the left and again straight over him the flies drift down beautifully straight past him and even drag free but still nothing. Try again, another cast straight over him this time a little two far and the indicator landed just in front of his nose, now we used wool as the indicator as there is no splash yet it was more than enough to spook him and off he swam to the head of the pool!! Frustrated but plenty more to go at.
"What did I do wrong Al?"
"I told you it wasn't easy, don't worry mate you will spook plenty more today!" as he laughs.
OK the larger fish at the head of the pool is still there so slowly making my way up the pool within casting distance one is spooked almost at my feet! Neither of us had seen him yet I almost trod on him! All is well though the big boy at the top is still there...
So I'm in my casting position he is sat just on the drop off the deeper water at the head, where they notoriously lie, and I cast this time the right distance first time however a little to the right. Al "just a little to the left mate and it will be perfect." Next cast Bang on!! Flies drift just passed his nose not disturbed he drifts out slightly to take a look, my eyes firmly on the indicator as I cant see my flies........."Strike.. Strike.. Strike Al says, me in a daze eyes still on the indicator which hasn't moved strikes to feel only the weight of the line and no fish, the splash of the strike spooked the fish and that was that.
"I thought I was waiting for the indicator to go down?"
Al ""yes but they will sometimes take it and spit it out without you knowing so if you can see him go over to them it is worth, next time a little more gently, lifting as he may be on"
All of that excitement in just one pool, completely belittled by just how difficult these fish are to catch we moved up. Al spotting the majority of the fish me still trying to get my eye in, we cast and spooked plenty more. I was amazed at how difficult they were but even more at how many there were!! At least one fish in every pool all over 3lb and a few pushing double figures which is completely unheard of in the UK apart from stocked fish.
OK Al's turn, we spotted one in a shallow run its back almost out of the water and actively feeding. This has got to be it, and I was keen to see if Al was doing anything different. He covered the fish well with three casts and changed flies, again with another 3 and still no interest. "all the guides say to keep changing flies after the fish have dismissed them" So again with the 3 pattern, this time the fish swings out to take a look and as soon as it was in taking distance swam rapidly over the far side of the pool into a deeper part. Spooked!! Yet another, this is what we called having the fingers stuck up at us! Although everything seemed perfect he still somehow knew not to take it and disappeared.
We continued to fish up river, had some sandwiches on the bank and thoroughly enjoyed not catching fish although would have been somewhat better if we had!
By 8:30pm I felt like I had been hit by a train, my body still in UK time and having had broken sleep for 3 and half days decided it time to head home.
That cold bite of the water getting a little too high!
The one that stuck his fingers up at Al
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