Distant Fjordland River revisited – two days for the diary!

Following these two days of enjoyable and outstanding fishing, we were Te Anau bound for some washing, relaxing, shopping. As mentioned before Te Anau - might be around a couple of thousand inhabitants - is based on the summer tourism. So it sometimes is a challenge to get a suitable accommodation. Unfortunately the coolest house right on the lake in a an acre of ground with +300sqm was just hours before booked, so went for the cheap and less fancy option and found a simple bach. It turned out to be one of the very early houses of Te Anau. Built in 1947 bin the middle of bushes. In the meantime it is in the middle of a housing area. We were guessing how large this house would be and ended up with something of around 50qm. With neither cellar nor any other space to store stuff. The basic bachs' condition is left (besides some renovation) more or less somewhere in the last century. Funny. We were glad to have two large beds, a shower and a kitchen, it was clean and good for up to five people. It turned out that it would later become our home for over a week. Pictures to follow in the next post.

Next day (for Ines: Wednesday) was a day of sleeping long, organizing, shopping and planning. The plan was: the old boy heads back to the distant Fjordland River (some research at DOC and the fly shop led to the conclusion that I might be alone on that river) and the girl with the small boy would stay in Te Anau to get some relaxation from the old boy. This meant some preparation in terms of DOC clean gear certificate, transfer and food for two nights at the river. 

Ines figured out to do a guided tour to the subsurface Manapouri Hydro-Powerplant and the Doubtful Sound which is actually a Fjord - the longest of NZ. (Some lines on that might follow later, if Ines finds the time to do some writing)

The weather for both plans looked perfect, just some light rain for the start and then clearing skies.

The Boat Taxi picked me in Te Anau. The transfer over the lake was done with reduced speed due to significant swell from the strong southerly winds. Arriving at the hut: yeah - no body there, the hut and the river just for me! It could not get better. Oh, yes might be some fish added.

The lake was on the lowest level I have seen it, thus the river might be very low too. And that it was, it was easy to cross the lowest part and get access to a small tributary. Even going there I spotted and spooked many trout, it seemed most of them browns resting close to the banks. They were absolutely passive. No reaction to fly and only spooked when I would have touched them with the rod tip. It must have been related to the river level/temperature/algae growth (no NOT didymo!). Fishing upstream started slow till I figured out to ignore the sleeping browns and to search for active feeding rainbows. That plan worked out. In the known holding areas and currents I found willing rainbows. First with the nymph and as the day progressed and I wandered more upstream with the dry. Especially some fancy Cicada pattern that did absolutely not look like the natural ones. Fishing was like cheating. Amongst other typical fascinating and cicada takes, I caught two by just making a long cast to the other bank without any clear target and caught one as my fly was dangling downstream in the water or made a fast swing. I did not see it, but a nice rainbow came to the net. All of them around 4 to 5,5lbs. I lost count of the total caught. Seven or eight? One fish was specifically impressing, the rainbow fought like hell and turned out to be a feisty 5,75lbs fish that made me to cross the river to land it. It had very few spots, small head, high body and a tail that was not made as a handle for fisherman. I could barely hold it.

Turning around after 7pm tramping down to the hut, that I found as I left it, so I had it for myself. Lightening a fire to get it nice and warm, cooking (ready-made meals from the supermarket "Butter Chicken" - no freeze dried stuff). After two glasses Church Road I was nearly too tired to tie a few nymphs, sleepy I made four of the magic nymphs to fall from the vice and I fell to bed.

Today (as of the time of writing!) I started to tramp upstream for around 45 minutes to start of a pool full of fish. Crossing down below and starting to fish most of them where gone. No worries, most of them where browns. Those fish, that seemed not to react to a fly these days. I continued upstream, tried to do some filming from the tripod, but this additional stream of thought seemed to distract me too much, so success was low while trying to film. What I love about fly fishing: if you think of something else, you are not fly fishing. At least that is valid for me. It distracts you totally from anything else and draws you in a separate reality. 

I went back to that reality and again a fish found my fly. Some situations were ridiculous, as I was literally catching fish by fish. Three fish are worth to be described in more detail. 

First: I caught the one 5,75lbs rainbow with the small tail and the few spots again. It was again in good condition, might be it fought little less than the day before.

Second: again a rainbow, but this was fighting like hell, going up and down and across, always heading for stones to rub of the line. I had to follow as the fish was in a maze of stones on the distant shore. Close to netting it, I still had to follow, the river was not so low on one point and I got water in my waders - as usual I wear them belt high - but managed to net the trout. I was just over 5lbs but made action like a much bigger bow. 

Third: on the pool of return (a huge around 3-4meter deep pool) I was tossing the cicada pattern and already close to the downstream recast got a close-to-take from a huge looking rainbow, that by this action told me her lay. As the fish looked around 8lbs something, I waited a while, did a fresh leader tippet (this time 0,20/8lbs Fluor due to the stones not so much because of visibility. I hate its knot behavior so I avoid it most of the time in freshwater) and prepared to recast. Cast- fish came, took the fly and the hook was set and got a good hold (I just about yesterday started to fish barbless in NZ - till now I did not do it as none of the guides fished barbless. I was lucky to fish barbless, as the big cicada patterns are frequently finding a hold behind the lip, making the fly removal without barb much easier - I can only recommend that. I did not lose a single fish today due to the missing barb). I was fishing that bow from a huge rock and in front of me the pool that immediately had around 1,3m depth and holes between the boulder that where much deeper. I really wanted that fish. Totally persuaded it must be around +7lbs or even close to 10lbs. So when the fish made its run I did not hesitate to follow him in the water (remember: my waders were already wet, it was the last fish of the day and I could not say no to a bath after a hot sweaty day in the bush). First five steps - then, where was the ground - oops I had to swim. Thanks to the patagonia absolute water tight back pack I could swim relaxed and the Canon would be save - if you call it swimming holding a rod with one arm and managing the reel with the other. I had to swim a couple of meters, happy to get solid ground under my feet and getting back to the beach. The tuck went on for a while but I finally managed to get the beast to the net. On the scale came the surprise: just a little over 6lbs! Wow what a fight for that size of fish, imagine if it would have had towards 10lbs - it would have dragged me all the way to the hut!

That again was one of those red letter days! Thank you River and Fish, thank you nature, thank you Ines to let me go! (BTW: lovely surprise in the cookie box! : ) ) 

The way back went with the turbo of motivation.

At the hut, a last "listen carefully" thing: chopping wood with a piece of metal (it was said to be and axe but and axe should be sharp), I was saying to myself 'take care of pieces jumping back from the impact'. Just seconds later a massive trunk airborne from the full force impact with the long handle "axe" impact hit me with full force in the right knee. I just went to the ground and could not even scream. That was not the kind of pain I prefer (side note, I am talking about endurance biking). The already swollen right knee has now a reason to be swollen. I had to treat it internally with half a bottle Church Road red.

(Text continued several days later) In the morning of the third day I have been woken by the sound of a chopper. Here? Rather unusual. I more or less jumped out of the bed (rather slowly with the funny knee) and had a look. The early guests were rangers taking care of the trap line (in control of small mammals), exchanging the traps and the baits. The low lake beach provided a perfect non dusty chopper spot to land. When you ever wanted to know how a chopper is filled with fuel - look at the picture.

This day I wanted to fish a distant upstream section of the river, starting around an hours walk upstream about where I ended the day before. A nice walk but it went ok with the knee. My legs found the well-known track nearly by themselves. Fishing was supposed to be of the same quality as the two days before. But who knows why, the fish just did not stick to that rule. It was hard for me to get them to the fly (still the same as yesterday) even as some of them were actively feeding. I had a hard time. They were spooky or fuzzy about my offering. To at least catch three fish I wandered all the way up to the camp spot I used some weeks ago, only to catch the third and thus the last fish of the day in the "camp pool". The two hours back to the hut with the knee were special.

Nevertheless even less good days on that river are terrific.

The boat taxi came a head of time and we went back over a calm lake.

What a blast these two first days! Wow!

PS: 

Bonus 3F or "Florian's first footage" about a pretty average rainbow trout caught and released during the trip. It came at the second cast to an Adams. GoPro Hero 3 & some post production... VERY first try. But one of the few takes were everything from presentation to release is available. The compression n the blog is awful, so please use the Vimeo Link and comeback:

The Rainbow in Fjordland

Put in an equation: "10 + 1 + sun = fun"

Our plan was a little bit risky, going to a semi remote river on the weekend. 

We arrived there after accomplishing the more or less rough 4x4 track without getting the car stuck or destroying anything. Some sections were really boggy and every now and then the trailer hitch made noises from ground contact. I would not like to do that track with high water or rain combined with my current 4x4-experience. We arrived early afternoon at the designated camp spot and set up our fabric-home. Oh an by the way we had fish that night: self bought Salmon.

There was just one other couple: a Danish writer and his German girlfriend. They intended to stay just for the night and intended to have a few casts that afternoon on the lower river section.

The night to Sunday was a cold starry night, perfect to take some shots of the illuminated hut (camp light inside, short flashlight burst from the outside to the hut or manually fluttered moon; timing around 10-20 seconds, medium to high ISO, 10mm), the Orion (the sword points upwards on the southern hemisphere) and the Milky Way. A time-lapse did not work out because the dew was so much that in the morning the whole cam was wet. But that doesn’t do any harm as it is clean water and not applied with pressure. Taking one shot of Orions’ belt, that was only timed around 4-8 seconds, a falling star appeared just in that small section of the hemisphere. What an incidence! I did not even see it before looking at the picture afterwards.

Sunday was exactly that: a sunny day. We headed up to the base of the river and started to walk and fish it up. It seemed like we had the river just for us! Lucky we! The first fish, a Rainbow of around 4,5lbs with some badly old jaw-injury, came just minutes later to the net. A good start. More or less leisurely, sometimes with high focus, sometimes low focus we went upstream. Catching fish by fish, most of them on cicada patterns or other dries, only few on the nymph. Pretty much all fish showed at least some interest and with the high and clear sun, the visibility was perfect. Absolutely fascinating when a cicada pattern hits the water, the fish recognizes the sound of the impact, even two meters away, thinking, remembering, turning around, following the fly, inspecting it, hesitating and finally gulping it and then – if everything goes right – the strike comes in the right moment. Not to early! I was improving on that day on the cicada-timing a lot. 

We were heading up the river. Ines and Tobias sometimes close, sometimes sitting in the grass and making breaks of having a snack. 

It was Ines turn. It did not take long on that day till I found a fish in very shallow water close to the bank and in perfect casting position for a quick try for Ines. But after several casts in the target area we came to the conclusion that it was a sleeping brown. And that was the case. Sometimes it is possible to wake them up by casts and get them in feeding mood. But most of the time, they wake up, ignore you for a while, just slightly change their body movement (an advanced fisherman can recognize that), ignore you sometime longer and once of a sudden swim away, to avoid this annoying human tossing flies with a clearly visible leader in their field of vision. That was the case with Ines fish. So I had to find a fresh one. Not too difficult on that day, but one that was in real feeding mood and reachable by a good cast. I succeeded on that and it was Ines turn. The brown refused or did only look for the offered cicada, so I as the guide in that situation had the proposal of an Adams and attached it to the leader. One of the first casts in the target zone and the fish came, took the fly and Ines succeeded on the strike (Florian: “wait, wait, now!”). She fought it very well, giving me the opportunity to do a few shots and holding the net to land it. It was a nice brown of around 4,5lbs! Pictures and release.

In the meantime I was around fish seven to the net or something around, eight came and nine came. Ines recognized that I would strive for the ten. She left to walk the hour to the camp ahead of me. It took me quite a while to spot another fish that I did not spook. And finally caught it. Number 10. All where between 3,5 and 6lbs and nice rainbows or most of them browns. Did it matter to catch 10? A little bit. Before that, I had it only once in NZ. Double digit in terms of quantity at least and in terms of fun during the day. In the future this will be just a “add” to this nice day of “10+1”. I packed my gear and started the five quarters of an hour walk to the camp. A rather boring way with fast pace but some neat pictures in the evening light.

The next day – Monday – we got the ticket for the Sunday. It was covered and the clouds needed lots of sun to disappear. Walking up to the point I stopped the day before. I took Tobias on my back for the walk in and set a fast pace to arrive as soon as possible as we already started very late. And the worst thing happened. We run into a party of a retired guide and his long year client. We talked to them for a while to exchange plans and the guide offered us – as their fishing was slow – to start just after the next bent. Looking close he and we only then realized that there was already another fisherman ahead – some explanation for their slow fishing. We continued our walk upstream and made contact with the other fisherman, that was waving like mad as we came close to indicate that he was already there and fishing. I offered him to walk further up, and we agreed that we would walk up to a hut around 45 minutes further up. He – I hope he had a really bad day – did not even say ‘thank you!’, knowing that we already had walked an hour. We accelerated and arrived at the agreed point – no we did not start to fish after the next corner out of this fellow’s sight. But the first we did was taking a bath in the cold river.

To make a long story short: Monday was the ticket for Sunday blast. Fish where much spookier, close to paranoid, the river up here was more like a creek in some sections and the fish really nervous. It was a hard day’s work for me to get three to the net. Ines turned around and walked back well ahead of me. I followed here and it took close to two tiring hours. The river up there was nevertheless beautiful but fish just not in the mood, the day was hot and fishing was more like work.

Ines was following with Tobias, sometimes close sometimes further away. Making breaks on the shingle beeches or the grass. One of these stops, it was already after lunch break, they were on a shingle bench and Tobias about to get a bath in the fresh but not cold river. He was so keen in crawling over the shingles in the low water, he showed absolute no fear of the water, just crawling in. I made videos with the DSLR from the tripod of this action, once placing it a couple of meters in the river to make him approach me and thus the camera – he followed without hesitation and a big smile in his face. Not before the water reached his chin he became afraid and cried. This no fear attitude is definitely related to the numerous baby-swim lessons Ines went for with Tobias. Might be he starts early to think as a fish and thus be a good fisherman. (I might add later on some frame shots of that footage, but that is already saved redundant on the two external hard discs, the build in 250GB SSD of the MacBook is to small...)

At the camp both of us made use of the camp shower we bought some weeks ago. A black 20 liter plastic sack that heated the water to a very comfortable temperature during the sunny day. It worked pretty fine, only some limitations in comfort as we only could place it on the spare wheel so we had to crouch while taking a shower.

Another night in paradise. We broke camp in the morning to go back on the nice rough 4x4 track. Just before we wanted to leave, a party with three 4WDs and six (!) fishermen arrived. Lucky we! We accomplished the rough track with a little more confidence, knowing that it would be possible and the car unlikely to skip. 

Our plan was to drive to Te Anau and to stay there for a couple of nights, to give me the opportunity to go to a distant river again and possibly to meet our new friends Karen and Rob again.

But before that we made a detour and I fished for around exactly 80 minutes (I had to be back after two hours) a river that was said to have suffered considerably from the flood in January. Nevertheless I was curios and wanted to fish it. I found a very low river, more like a creek, some fish, a curious eel, impressive gorges and two rainbows of around 2lbs to the net. And off we were to Te Anau and Fjordland once more!