A Jungle Fishing expedition!!

I suppose one of the frustrations with fly fishing in New Zealand, although in this particular case it pleasures me to be frustrated, is the sheer amount of water available to be fished and how little time we have to explore these delights. Although Alastair and I have fished pretty much everyday for the month I have been here we still feel that we haven't even scratched the surface and every time we get a day off together we plan a new trip each time further afield to discover what we hope to be a truly magical place.

The art of fly fishing isn't just about the quantity of trout caught or even quality, it is about the journey, immersing yourself in nature, casting your thoughts into the watery world of your quarry and if through skills and always a little luck one of these mysterious trout blesses you by taking your imitation, every hour and day spent not catching is forgotten and for that moment there is nowhere else in the world a fly fisherman would rather be.

Every fishing trip here seems magical in its own way, the difficult days have silver lining as we learn from the experience and use it to better our next trip and the successful days are relived in our thoughts, dreams and whilst telling tales to fellow eager fishermen.

Well we have fished the majority of rivers within an hours drive from Te Anau and with a day an evening and the following day until 4:30 pm off work we plan our jungle fishing expedition!! Filled with enthusiasm and excitement we had heard wonders about the Clinton river. Tales of large rainbows and browns taking terrestrials in gin clear turquoise water whilst being surrounded by the rainforest a truly wilderness place to fish, with no car around the corner to get to and no home comforts we knew already it would be magic.

The Clinton river lies at the head of Lake Te Anau and is only accessible by a 1 hour ferry trip, it is also the beginning of the Milford Trek so a handy path runs up alongside it for the first 4 miles. With our tickets and burgeon packed we board the ferry glowing with anticipation as we have been talking about this trip for some time. You cant seem to beat the feeling of entering the unknown, your mind imagining what may be waiting for you, on route Alastair and I discussed files and tactics working ourselves up as we looked in our fly boxes at our terrestrial flies, spider patterns, monuka beetles, cicadas and even a mouse pattern each should they be needed. We got talking to a gentle giant called Ross, who worked for DOC (Department of Conservation) and managed the tracks and huts along the Milford Trek. A man of around 70 although you wouldn't have known it looking at him as he towered over us at about 6"6 with legs reaching as high as my abdomen and hands like shovels it was clear why he worked on the Treks as it would take a good skip and a jump to match just one of his strides. He mentioned as have others whilst we researched our trip that the main river is quite large and about 4 1/2 miles upstream the river splits into two and the north and south arm are both good fishing and there is a place to pitch a tent a little way up the north arm. So we had a plan to trek up the the junction and fish from there up...

The ferry approached its dock, we gazed, sheer jungle creeping up the mountains being met with snow capped peaks it really is a place of beauty and showing no signs of human life, apart from the small jetty. We placed ourselves at the front of the queue as we did not intend on getting stuck behind the rest of the trekkers. As the hatch opened we were off like two kids in a walking race backpacks on we quickly dipped our crocs in the disinfectant as this river is pristine and algae like Didimo could decimate such a perfect place.

 

With the pack left behind we were still almost at jogging pace although not like the other trekkers who were equipped with good sturdy walking boots, small backpacks and walking sticks, no we looked a little more ex centric. Wearing a fishing jacket each, cap and shades didn't seem too out of place and even our shorts were fine, but the leggings underneath and our chosen footwear, Crocs with not walking sticks but fishing rods I'm not sure what breed the others must have thought these fly fishermen were.

The first 20 minutes brings you out to a collection of huts in an opening which looked quite impressive, the river sparkling with green and turquoise flowing down into the lake and a swing bridge crossing over in the distance, we looked at each other and just began to laugh....it was in fact more beautiful and couldn't have been more perfect than even our young imaginations could have conjured up.

Al turned to me as this was going to be his last expedition before leaving for the UK and said quite simply;
"This place will haunt my dreams."
Nothing more needed to be said he was definitely going to make another trip to New Zealand.

We had previously said that we would hike up to the forks where the north and south river split, however being the young over enthusiastic fishermen we are we couldn't resist setting up one of the rods whilst on the bridge after I had spotted a good 5lb rainbow sitting in the margins from the bridge, we had a good lead on the rest of the trekking party so Al sneaked down through the undergrowth and got behind it. A Parachute Adam's trailing a nymph was the set-up of choice and with one cast falling short to gauge the distance he placed a perfect cast around a meter in front of the rainbow; flies drifting beautifully down past his nose.....nothing, same again still nothing. I could see the fish clearly and it didn't appear to be feeding but with one final cast it was spooked and made its way into the deeper water. This water was so clear I could see the shadow of the 6lb fluorocarbon on the bottom and thought to myself we may have made a big mistake as 6lb was the lightest leader we had and perhaps 3lb would have to be used here, although fear catching a 5lb strong wild rainbow in this river full of snags and trees on 3lb line. We moved on nonetheless.

I would say walking with pace but it wouldn't be true we were almost jogging along the track stopping at each opening in the forest to try and spot some fish we were bubbling with excitement kind of like waking up on Christmas day when your about 6. I remember when we were young we couldn't open any presents on Christmas day until the fire was lit and the dog was walked, so we used to get up in the dark, run the dog for 3 miles light the fire and wake our parents up as early as possible. Funny how not much changes as you get older just different things excite you. Anyway back to the fishing....

Another 20 minute walk and we came to another opening, we spotted two fish sitting quite still in some really shallow water, Al went in again behind them, although misjudged the depth of a certain part and went chest deep with the burgeon still on his back, scrambled to the side, ditched the burgeon and balanced his way along a fallen tree to casting position. We had expected getting wet so all our dry clothes were wrapped in bin liners in the bags. I got back to the clearing and watched as Al again made a perfect cast to one of the fish, this time a size 16 single Adams, surely this wouldn't spook them. One cast one fish spooked!! Next cast again perfect to the second fish and two fish spooked!!!! This was beginning to be more difficult than we first thought. Although rather than being frustrated we laughed about it as the fact that we were sight fishing for big wild rainbows in one of the most beautiful places we have ever seen was a treat enough.

We were told it was a 2 hour hike to the forks and 4 1/2 miles. We hit the 4 mile marker in two hours, legs slightly like jelly from our power walk laidened with burgeons. The river opend up a little and there was a white gravel bank glistening almost like snow in the sun. This will do we said to each other and we set up the other rod. We had been told it can be a difficult river to cross so we had prepared for a little swim. We fished up and came to a fallen log where we saw a feeding big brown trout in amongst the branches. I laughed to Al and said i'll have a go but I don't know how I will land it.... I took everything not waterproof out of my pockets and was expecting a swim with a fish on. I tried to predict what would happen if hooked and I could see two branches he would swim between which I would have to follow him through so with my plan I stalked up behind him along the branches and into place with a single #18 PTN un-weighted so not to spook him. As I got into place Al said I have lost him and we waited 5 minutes for him to reappear but nothing. Damn, I was looking forward to a swim after a big brown trout!!

The next pool up would have to be fished from the otherside so we decided to cross here, it only seemed chest deep so do-able. Army style carrying our backpacks over our heads we waded across the river, the sun was on our backs, burning a little and the river was refreshing given our 2 hour hike.
We approached the next pool and could see three big browns on the surface swinging in the flow every now and then sipping from the top. "Right come on now Al" I said and watched him get into place 10 casts later he had covered the fish with three different fly set ups and still nothing?? We were getting a little confused as to what we were doing wrong, the fish had gone down a little and I left Al to keep fishing as I moved up to the next pool. I was beginning to think that we should have brought 3lb line although I wouldn't expect to land any...

I had spotted a brownie lying in the margins and began to cast to it with a green blowfly trailing a nymph he was swinging but not interested in my flies, they were hard feeding on something but we had not yet discovered what and we had forgotten our sieve which we use to see what naturals are floating down. Al had joined me by now and seen the brownie I was casting to, with no avail, and just before I was about to change flies we spotted a rainbow swing from under a log into the middle of the stream and take a nymph, I wasn't too hopeful as my nymph was not heavy at all and the flow quite fast, I cast upstream of where it showed and watched as it swung out again and torpedoed up to smash my blowfly on the surface!! We were both laughing at the ferocity of the take, I struck and felt the solid weight of the rainbow shaking from head to tail with a flash of silver it jumped clean out of the turquoise depths heading towards a fallen tree I increased the pressure slightly in an attempt to prevent a snag and with another powerful jump my line came hurtling towards me and landed in a heap at my feet......Snapped!!! That will teach me for trying to control these strong wild fish!

"Perhaps I shouldn't have tried to bully it?" I said to Al
but he replied "you had to otherwise you would have lost it in that snag"

So the idea of dropping down to 3lb now seemed ridiculous as with a fish like that I wouldn't have stood a chance!!

We fished up, blind fishing any likely spots and as we turned the corner we approached the junction of the north and south branch!!! The branches met in a deep pool where we could see numerous fish feeding, I cast to a few but with no avail as on this side there was a back eddy which created drag, so after around 5 minutes Al had joined me and I made a long cast into the fast water on the far side, I had lost concentration and at this point we were looking upstream at 3 more feeding trout in the tail of the next pool and discussing how we would approach them. As I looked back to my flies I noticed a big rainbow in the middle of the pool doing a somersault and heading back to the depths, I said to Al look at that!!! My line was above it, "do you think it took my fly?"
"Not sure mate" was the reply.
So I gingerly began slowly stripping in the line and lifted the rod and watched as the fish felt the pressure and darted ferociously upstream!! Fish On!!!!! I said.

Both of us in hysterics at my luck I played it in the deep pool, unlike before, this fish stayed deep and fought what I would describe like a salmon, going for long runs with nothing I could do but let it go. After around 10 minutes it began to come closer to the surface and we could tell it wasn't a small fish but pushing double figures. Al armed with the camera, I fought a little longer before beaching it in the slack water my hands only just stretching around its solid muscle tail. Again we laughed at how big the fish was! Coming from England this kind of fishing is what we only ever experience in our dreams and yet here we were fishing the clearest of water with the sun on our back, surrounded by rainforest, belittled by the surrounding snow capped mountains which was enough but to be catching wild rainbow trout of this quality truly was a dream come true!!!

A picture perfect solid rainbow of around 8lb's!! With pictures taken we released him and watched as it swam back to the green depths of the pool from where it came.

I tried my luck again by casting into the fast water on the far side of the pool but didn't expect that much luck again, Al moved up to where we saw three feeding trout prior to my lucky encounter.

I remained where I was as I really wanted to see Al catch one and chuckled as I heard his cries of frustration, he was indeed moving these trout who regularly came to his flies but seemed to turn away at the last minute before taking the fly!
" come on....come on....come on.....yes....yes...Nooooo!!!"
was the general gist as they decided to turn away.

I moved up to him to see the action and the pool seemed full of trout but none willing to take his fly!!! After around 15 minutes I said to Al "lets move up as this is only the junction pool and we have the entire North Arm to fish up before dark. Al is someone that hates giving in so after another 5 minutes of desperate measures and casting some of the ugliest flies in his box, large rubber crickets, cicadas he joined me upstream.

I had crossed the river and stalking the bank, I had spotted one sitting off an overhanging tree, come on Al now's your time to shine!! He approached and cast his flies just in front of it, it swung and rose to his blowfly!!! Strike!! And as he lifted the only thing to connect was the air with his flies, another cry of frustration!!! The fish vanished like a ghost and I left Al to continue fishing hoping that there may be another.

The following pool was separated by some fallen trees which must have come down in the last flood and wedged themselves there, an old tree trunk lay on the far side parallel with the flow and I could see two rainbows lying with backs against it, just before I made a cast to them I noticed another closer to me swing out to take a dry! I quickly turned my body still false casting and placed it just to the right around 5 foot in front of the fish, my heart stopped as I watched it come out of its gentle swaying, tense up as a tiger does before it pounces and dart into the stream and take my fly, after waiting for it to turn with my heart in my mouth I struck!! Contact again!! And watched in awe as it darted from side to side, upstream and down stream until letting up and coming to the shore. Al had seen the commotion and joined me, his waterproof video camera taking some breathtaking footage of the fish fighting the rod. I landed it and urged Al into the pool as I wanted to see him have some action.

I pointed out the two still lying against the tree trunk and Al cast to the one closest to us, with one accurate cast the fish swung out, we watched its jaws pierce the surface film and sip our imitation into the its world, as Al lifted the fish shot upstream with the sound of the reel screaming and a massive smile on Al's sunkissed face he played it well before it decided to swim downstream into the next pool over debris from the previous flood we both expected to get snagged but he kept the line taught and high enough to pass over the snags freely and landed it in the previous pool!

Al was chuffed at his 5lb rainbow in such dramatic landscape and I was happy he had broken his duck. We continued up river where I was snapped by a brown on the strike and Al seemed to be unlucky and had two fish rise but instead of conventionally, they turned on the fly and took it facing us swimming downstream so when Al struck the flies simply came out of their mouths. The river got a little more rocky and much thinner, so after a couple of kilometres we decided to head back down to where the last fish was caught and to be at the junction pool for the evening rise!

With camp set up we went back down to where I had caught the first rainbow and fished into the dark. I caught another beautiful rainbow which had swallowed the hook, I don't usually kill fish but this was a perfect chance to have some trout for supper so it was knocked on the head. Al had gone further downstream and with the light fading I headed up to the junction pool. Al caught up, wet through!! It appears that he was precariously balancing on a log to cats to a rising trout when he slipped and completely submerged in the river!! I laughed although 10:30 pm isn't a great time to go for a swim with no hot shower to get warmed up.
We fished into the darkness, there were rises but nothing spectacular and we both failed to catch any more. We headed back to camp, light a fire, enjoyed some beers we had brought and got a little tipsy, enjoying the smoked trout and our surroundings laughing about the day and putting the world to rights.

The following morning we were tight for time, we fished the places we had success the previous day but by the time we had packed up we found ourselves a good two hour hike away from the ferry and needing to get a real pace on to make it back in time. Naturally we stopped in a couple of likely spots and where we could spot fish and breifly cast to them which resulted in us having to run the last 2k with burgeons and the sun on our backs we arrived at the ferry gasping and sweating!!

Needless to say the hour ferry trip back we slept like babies exhausted from our trip and totally satisfied with Al's last New Zealand Adventure!!

I'm sure we will be telling tales of the trip well into retirement to our grand kids someday!

Man Day on the river Von

With the day off and no work until 4:30pm Alastair and I decide to head to the Von river. We have heard great things about it, apparently there is a gorge which can be great fishing and now the water has dropped significantly should be accessible again. So with the best part of an hours drive ahead of us we drop Christina off for her breakfast shift at 6:30am and set off.

Half way there we realise we have forgotten the map but head on anyway with a vague idea of where it is, fortunately the majority of the gravel roads here in New Zealand are just one road and difficult to get lost on.

The conditions are looking good, with some bright sun and relatively low wind we are buzzing with excitement as this has been a river on our list to visit for some time now!

We pass the Oreti river where we have fished before and stop to have a quick cast on a bridge pool where Alastair had seen a fish the week before, unfortunately with no avail so we head on. The scenery for those in the UK is much like the lake district here, with large rolling mountains and hills and relatively baron landscape. As we progress we reach the first of two fords we need to cross, the first Al came to the week before which was far too big to cross and washed out he road. In our little Daewoo but we braved it today and made it across dry.

As we continue along we approach a gorge and without a map decide that this must be it! We meander down the steep road over looking the sheer drops down into the valley we become more and more excited!!!

We quickly set up the rods and make our way up the slightly coloured water trying to spot fish where possible and blind fishing any likely spots. After about 4 pools we still hadn't spotted any, admittedly we had cast to some "fishy looking rocks" but nothing definitive yet. We thought that with the heavy floods of recent they may have dropped into the lake but not deterred we fished on. We approached the gorge telling each other that the fish may have moved into the deeper pools where they can hide from the floods so that would be our best bet.

Fighting through the trees and bush we approached a much deeper pool, I took the right side on a steep bank through the trees for spotting purposes and Al the left but no matter how hard we looked we could not see any trout, Al blind fished it a little then we headed to the next deep pool which quite literally was in a gorge, with sheer rock faces either side, Al climbed a little to get to a vantage point to spot some fish, dropping his croc along the way made me chuckle as I watch him stumbling back down the rocks to catch up with it before drifting back down stream. Slightly confused that we hadn't yet seen a fish we did what every optimistic fisherman does in times like these.
"I reckon it will start getting better just around the corner, these fish must have moved to the deeper pools which must be further up"
Al " yes mate, I think I can climb around this pool and I'll tell you what it looks like"

So Al, fishing rod in mouth wearing crocs, which are not designed for climbing and grip is not one of their strong points,  begins to rock climb and shimmy across this rock face above a quite deep pool to see what is around the corner. As he finally approaches the other end he shouts back, "I wouldn't come this way mate, its a bit dodgy."

After looking up into the thick bush on a near vertical slope I think to myself, the things I do for fishing!! And make my way up fighting through the dense bush pulling myself up by the small trees that had managed to perch themselves on the rocks, even wild boar don't use this route and there's me rod in hand attempting to get through.

Soaked with sweat, scratched and tired I met with Al at the top of the gorge decided we couldn't get back down to the river and headed back to the road, still fighting through bush and finally got there at the top of the road we had previously been meandering down in the car.
At that moment a car came past with another fisherman called John. A friendly Ozzie chap who kindly offered us a lift down the bank in his camper van. We discussed where we had fished and where he was heading to discover that this isn't in fact the famous gorge and that it is another 10k down stream!!
So we had just wasted two hours of fishing to which John replied fishing is never time wasted but now you know not to go there again....Very true.

We came to the second ford in the road, much deeper than the previous so I got out to push just in case..... as I am pushing the car through the water I loose my croc...a familiar occurrence this is becoming and hop downstream to catch up with it!

Back in the car following john as he has a map we head further downstream right to the mouth where it meets Wakatipu and went down to a farm to discuss access to the river through the farmland. We discussed fishing with the farmer and found where to go, following a cup of coffee with John and discussing fishing down under John fished the lake in his float tube and we headed to the top of the gorge as although the river is lower than it has been apparently you have to fish it in low summer levels and once you commit yourself to the gorge from the bottom you have to fish all the way up to get out the other end. An adventure for another trip maybe.

Time is ticking and with work getting closer we head to the top of the gorge and fish down, we approach a pool and spot a rainbow feeding. Al gets in behind it and casts a nymph combo to it, three times and nothing, change flies, again nothing so a third time with a copper john with rubber legs which John had given to us earlier and bang!! The trout took with force and darted upstream jumping clean out of the water!!
Fish on!! as it began swimming downstream towards Al he stumbled back reeling trying to keep pressure, it settled at the tail of the pool both of us thinking Al will have to run down to keep up with it should it go down the rapids; but not this time, it swam up again under an overhanging rock and sat there for a minute as fisherman and trout are in a stale mate. These fish really do know what they are doing when hooked and will find any available obstacle to swim around to unhook themselves; finally it came out and with a burst of energy bolted to the top of the pool again where an overhanging tree had fallen into the water...sure enough it made a be line for it a snagged Al's line amongst the branches....fish 1 fisherman 0!!!

We head further down stream fishing likely spots and managed to spook another fish with the first cast, until we approached another deep pool, we couldn't see any fish but cast our flie nonetheless. I had chosen a tungsten mayfly bomb trailing a blood worm, as I approached the middle of the pool a fish came from the deep and hit the bloodworm with such force it startled me...Game on!!! He didn't have any intention of staying in the pool and swiftly darted towards the tail of the pool and down the rapids, so now I'm chasing it down stream rod held above my head in an attempt to reduce the chance of snags. It settled in the next pool down using the current to fight my 5 weight rod which against these strong rainbows doesn't hold much backbone to control them. After the second attempt at beaching it he came in. A not a massive rainbow but a beautiful fish of around 3 1/2 lb.
Time is up and we hastily head back upstream and home in order to make it back for work, with only around an hour and a half of fishing and a 200k drive it was an expensive and time consuming reccy but well worth it! On the way back coming through the ford we managed to bottom out slightly, with water coming through the doors in the back we luckily kept traction and made it across which resulted in a trip to the garage the following day to get the exhaust welded back together, really terrain for a 4x4 but the green machine has seen us through yet again!!!

Will definitely be returning here to tackle the gorge in low water!!!

Searching for a river that isn't in flood!!!

So last week after heavy rain our usual fishing rivers are in flood yet the guides are still taking guests out.... but where? And when we ask the guests we always seem to get the same answer..."we cant tell you, the guide has sworn us to secrecy!"

Well that's not very helpful to us, so back to the drawing board, looking at the map and the rivers we know are in spate searching for somewhere that hasn't had the same rain and preferably a tributary to one of the larger rivers.

So inland we head, out to Mossburn with a few smaller rivers on route were looking for a new spot, we cross the Aparima and stop on the bridge. Its slightly coloured but at a good height so we watch for a few minutes to see if there are any signs of fish.

As we were looking, a brown trout comes to the surface in the middle of the stained river, swings out to the margin and proceeds to sip a dry fly from the smooth ripple.

Alastair and I look at each other with cheery grins and race to the car to set up our rods!

There were  overhanging willows on the margin which al crawled under to an opening where there were now numerous trout rising to the surface, I was above trying to get a drag free drift down stream under the willow where we could see some active feeding trout. After around 15 minutes, I hadn't moved a fish whereas Al had moved fish but couldn't entice a solid take.

I moved further down stream, fighting through the willows and stumbling over the uneven ground where the river had previously created holes and deposited debris making my life quite difficult. I came to an opening and could see trout still feeding on the surface, I waded in which was actually a lot shallower than I first thought given the coloured water. I saw a fish rise again, so what flies to use? I thought willow grubs would be the likely food but after studying the water and the contents drifting down I picked out a tiny little nymph floating down, then another... So I look in my box of tricks and pull out a size 16 brown parachute adams and trailed a size 18 pheasant tail nymph un-weighted behind.

So armed with a hopeful killer combo I get into place down stream of the feeding trout, I couldn't see the fish so waited with line out floating down stream for a rise.... predictably he came up again so with one false cast I landed the flies about a foot in front of his nose, and watched as his mouth elegantly came up and sipped my PTN from the top.... after waiting that split second, as all fishermen know where your heart seems to stop for a second and you get ready to strike praying you feel contact, and strike I did!

As the line ripped from the water making contact the surprised trout, there was a flash of brown and splash of water as he frantically darted and jumped clean out of his watery world before entering his safe underwater home. After fighting a good fight hearing line screaming from my lamson he was ready to come in, not a monster but a perfectly proportioned beauty he was nonetheless. After carefully releasing him back into the mysterious world he came from I continued to fish.

Another rise and another fish landed, today seemed to be turning out successfully and we were happy to find some fishable water.

By this time I had an audience, Al had come down stream to see how I was doing, he had lost one fish but couldn't seem to connect with any others and there were 3 men on the bridge watching us, a guide and two guests, now we knew we had found the right place, they moved on and we continued upstream!

As I caught up with Al he had a fish on, after he had spotted a brown in the margins who had kindly taken his fly he played it well and landed a beautiful 4lb brownie. So after an hours fishing we had landed three and lost another, at this point we were quite chuffed that we had found a place to fish when the majority of rivers are in flood.

We continued up, I approached the head of a pool which looked fishy, although I couldn't spot any I blind fished it, as I approached the head I almost stumbled on what looked like a 5lb fish, I quickly back tracked quietly and cast to him, landing the flies perfect first time they drifted down past he swung out and took my fly, again with the splash of line ripping from the water he was on!! Although these larger trout are by no means easy to land and he darted into the overhanging willow tree and caught me on a snag!!! The trout escaped and I was left caught on a tree and had to snap the line loosing both of my flies, and the pool had been disturbed so upstream I head! I must admit I have always been lucky in the sense that with salmon fishing I don't tend to loose many fish once hooked, but here they seem to know exactly what they are doing and know how to shake a fly off!!

So upstream I head and Al has another fish on, he had blind fished the head of a pool and connected with another 4lb brownie, this river seems to be full of fish!! He played it well and beached another beauty!!

We took 5 minutes after rolled a cigarette and discussed our tactics and what we would do for the next few pools. The river forked so I went left and Al went right. I had spotted a feeding trout in some fast water and cast practically every fly in my box to it with no avail, it can be so frustrating when you can see him but cant entice him with any of our artificial imitations! I gave up on him, moved up stream before going back down to  see how Al was getting on.

I crossed the river in a relatively fast part and slipped on a rock, I managed to gain my balance but in the process had lost my croc which was now floating down river!! Panicking I made my way across the other side, hopping down the bank trying to catch up with it, whilst hopping taking off my jacket and shirt with cameras in before diving in a long deeper pool  and swimming for my floating shoe!! I caught up with it and made my way back picking items of clothing up on the way. Now I know wading boots would be a more suitable choice of footwear but I kind of like the romance of wet wading with crocs and having to swim after lost footwear from time to time! The sun was out and although the water cold I soon dried out and I caught up with Al.

Now Al had been spending the last 30 minutes stalking a good 6lb trout which was patrolling the margins sipping willow grubs from the surface. He had cast every imitation he had to the fish but he was hard on the naturals and denied anything that looked slightly un-toward. So whilst in desperation Al was trying everything I chuckled to myself and took a video of the wonderful moment when he gracefully sipped the grubs from the surface. Not to be caught today, but we know where he is for next time!!

We had lunch on the bank discussing the day and how chuffed we were even though no-one would tell us where to go we had found where the guides would have gone and a productive day just by exploring with the map. One of the best things about New Zealand is that as long as you can find a river there will be a good head of trout in it!

We fished on into the afternoon getting to the upper reaches, spotting the fish was difficult but we blind fished where looked good and concentrated on the heads of the pools. Nearing the end as time was running out and we had work at 4:30pm I had noticed through some willow trees two fish on the surface, I'm going to have a go I said. Al replied good luck mate I don't think you will be able to get a cast out as there are too many trees around you.
I slowly made my way down, had to climb a small tree to get onto a fallen tree trunk where I could just about get a very short roll cast out. So I'm in place after maybe 7 minutes of getting there and precariously balancing on an overhanging tree trunk I look for the the rising fish....... They have gone Al said.
Sods law I thought and after waiting 10 minutes for them to come back I gave up and climbed back to the bank. Fishing here is by no means easy and you have to sometimes be willing to get your self into some rather difficult places to get a fly to these fish.

With a 3k trek back to the car we headed back down the riverbank. We came across two locals who were fishing and mentioned a 5lb brownie they saw but couldn't catch in the same pool where I had lost one previously. I thought to myself quietly, I know why you couldn't catch him, because he had out smarted me an hour before and is probably sulking a little with a sore lip!!

We get to the car, ecstatic about the successful day we had against the odds and headed back. Although not as secretive as the guides, that evening one of our Swiss guests was asking about where would be good to go on his own and I gave him directions to our newly discovered river and hope he had some success there as well.

Another great day down under, no trophy fish but a few perfectly conditioned brownies were kind enough to give us some sport!!

Definitely going to make a return trip as I have a bone to pick with the one that took me into the snag and Al still has dreams bout the 6lber sipping willow grubs from the surface. Some more imitations are needed first though I think.

A Day at Milford Sound

One of the must things to do whilst in Fiordland is to visit one of the famed Fiords which make up the west coast of Southland.
There are many Fiords however two are renowned to be the most spectacular and trips are offered to explore these untouched natural wonders. For unknown reasons to me they are named sounds, and we are to spend our day at Milford Sound.

With tickets booked we wake early and embark on a 2 hour drive to Milford, along the way driving through rainforest, mountains and farmland, the scenery here is spectacular, it is around 25 degrees C with the sun shining on the glistening snow capped mountains in the distance and herds of red deer grazing the lush grassland. The route to Milford is one that can be treacherous, the road often being closed due to landslides, on route the only way in or out to Milford is via a half mile tunnel which delves deep through the middle of the mountain, on reaching the light on the other side you are confronted with snow capped mountains which feel within touching distance and a steep meandering road down into the valley and village of Milford.

We arrived with minutes to spare and boarded the nature ferry.

Its difficult to describe Milford Sound with words as the breathtaking scenery can leave one speechless, the vast mountains towering from the deep blue ocean on all sides with vivid green rainforest clinging to the cliff side, dolphins, and seals using the sound as a play area and mesmerising waterfalls seem to be falling from the sky!
As we entered the mouth of the Sound where it meets the Tasmanian sea I caught a glimpse of something in the water in the distance. I mentioned it to Alastair and Christina who said it would probably be dolphins, we made our way to the front of the boat to get a better view. No-one had noticed it yet, we waited to catch another glimpse to see what it was. Again another fin came from the the water, but too big to be a dolphin, whale we thought? But what kind?
Then another, this time 3 jet black dorsal fins! Not sure what whales are black we kept on looking, others had spotted them now and the front of the ferry started filling up and the captain had noticed something as the sound of the engines grew louder we accelerated in that direction. With a good 5 minutes between sights these were definitely whales, but still not sure what kind the bow was full of people asking each other in all languages.
Then all three came out of the water much closer this time and the ferry seemed to gasp, everyone could see clear as day that they were Orcha's!! I must admit they have always been on my bucket list to see in the wild and it seems everyone else's as well. A mother and two calves coming up for air every few minutes. We starred  in awe armed with cameras to try and get the next shot when they came up again, another ferry had heard on the radio and came around us to get a view. The Orcha's seemed to have had enough and started to head on their way.
Back we head back into the majestic sound, past seals rock, got a soaking from one of the falls and into dock. A truly remarkable day and so lucky to see wild killer whales!!

We stopped for a sandwich and coffee at the local cafe, went through our shots on the cameras to see who had the best photography skills and headed home at only 1:00pm we still had lots to see. We decided to stop at lots of little tracks coming off the road to explore a little of the area and with rods in the car may even to a spot of fishing (for a change).

The landscape is beautiful and every river was turquoise blue water broken with splashing whitewater from the rapids. After around four stops we crossed a bridge where to the right there was a beautiful water fall beneath it a vivid blue lagoon, I turned to Al, "we have to swim in there!"

"looks quite cold" was the reply I got, after a little persuasion we were in, jumping from the rocks into this almost blue pool! Great fun, and yes it was cold! We soon realised that the source of the water was actually snow and ice melt from the mountains which gave you that head freeze that you sometimes get from eating ice cream to quickly! After about 30 minutes and lots of passers by laughing at us we decided that it would probably be best to get out before hypothermia sets in and we headed back to the car.

Another half hour driving and we reached the Eglington river, Al had fished here before with some success so we parked, set up and stalked the river. The Eglington runs down the valley covered in beautiful flowers, what look like fox gloves, with a backdrop of snowy mountains really is a special place. The strong north wind which blows straight into your face whilst trying to cast isn't quite as pretty though!!

We approached a pool where we could see some trout feeding in between the gusts which made visibility poor. Al's turn to fish so armed with his G-Loomis 10' 7# which packs a good punch in these windy conditions he ties on two nymphs, a mayfly bomb trailing a smaller PTN. He targeted one fish which seemed to be actively feeding and cast upstream to it, the first cast was slightly to the right which drifted straight past, again I said a little to the left. Second cast bang on! As the indicator and flies drifted down we saw the fish drift out and the indicator disappear with a jerk. He strikes and makes contact, the fish darts upstream before leaping out of the water and heading back down stream.
"A rainbow I said" having seen the flash of silver as it left the water"

"No, the browns here look silver..." was the reply I got.
It continued to fight well but no match for Al and we soon netted it.
A beauty, around 4lb silver looking brown trout from one of the most picturesque places I have ever had the privilege fishing. We fished on for maybe 20 minutes until returning to the car as Christina was patiently waiting for us and headed home.

Great end to a great day!!!