A Rewarding Day

Driving to the somewhat hidden access I was lucky as there were no fresh tire marks and there was no car on the access, thus this section of the river might have received some rest. Recently unfished water is an important aspect in NZ - try to fish fresh water! In case you fish with a guide, he (most of the time it would be a him, thus he) should take care of that and make a couple of calls to colleagues to find out where to go. Still sometimes fishing behind somebody might work on some rivers and still catch a couple of fish but it is far from good and should be avoided.  

To my surprise it took a while at the river till I could spot the first fish. Last time I was there, the first pool had two fish and the first was caught with the very first cast. NZ is about sight fishing, blind fishing I do at home enough and thus I was reluctant to fire out a few blind casts. But in that case it later was the ticket to two above average fish of strong fighting 7 and 8lbs on nymph. One caught in a pool where I was lucky two years ago. All fish were of exceptional good condition, no sign of mice diet but just normal deep wonderful shiny browns.

Further up in an infamous pool where the fish are sometimes easy to spot and sometimes very hard (this time) I finally spotted some and got shots on them but no takes, in the end I was successful to spook them with my casts from the bank.

My first thought about the 8lbs fish was that it must have been foul hooked as it was pulling line as hell against the current and a tight brake. It was not foul hooked; it was just made of solid muscles and power, trained in exceptional wild natural environment.

 

 

 

The river further upstream had a section that is rather complex to fish as the whole width is likely to hold fish and the spotting could be only done from a very short distance. The third fish I finally managed to spot, was just meters ahead in fast 80-100cm deep water, the brown was literally attached to a medium sized boulder but it was heavily feeding. To catch that I would have to get the size 12 nymph down very fast and accurate without a long lead. I set up a double nymph rig where the heavy fly was double tungsten pulling the smaller fly down like a stone. My delight was high as this setup suddenly stopped in the current and the fish was on. It was the smallest of the day with 6,5lbs.

Fourth and last fish of the day was at around 10am on the virtual orientation clock (12am would be straight upstream) just around 6-7 meters away. Landed and 7lbs came to the net, the brown showed a remarkable pattern and coloration. This again showed that sometimes the close distance might be the way to go in case fish are not spotable from say 12-15 meters distance due to light or natures camo.

As usual I took and unintentional dip in a notorious pool. I never mange to come out of that river dry. 

Light very fine drizzle started but some sunrays were still on the scenery. A deep feeling of satisfaction and happiness came with it. Exceptional good fishing, not to easy but four to the net was a delightful result of the day. Some more casts and it was about time to head back to the car and down south.

Driving down that night towards Hokitika I found myself pretty much stranded well after 10 pm, everything closed, accommodation not really available and not necessarily needed, thus I ended up at the same DOC campground 10km south of Hokitika as two years before with Ines and Tobias. Less than ten meters away from the last camp spot there. I cooked a simple meal of fresh salad, readymade butter chicken, some desert and the better part of a bottle of red. Fine drizzle started again and I went to bed early the next day.

My original intention was to fish a remote backcountry river in the Haast-area after the front and rain that was about to arrive. The front was said to be in the area around Wednesday. Thus the plan was to fish a west coast spring creek or two before the front would hit and to drive down the coast on Wednesday during the rain and to chopper to the remote river on Thursday. Would that plan work out?

Moments in Time and Friends

We discovered that special place during the preparation for our first trip to NZ SI five years ago. Karamea Lodge, a very decent (which is rather an understatement), perfectly located in Karamea, the gateway to several large river systems in the distant north west of NZ SI. Best of all the offered accommodation was absolutely fair priced. We were amazed by the lodge and the friendly owners. Two years ago (as far as I remember we did not go towards Karamea during our second trip) we went back to the lodge for a couple of days for Ines with Tobias exploring the nature around Karamea while I was fishing at a river in the bush and for me as the day after coming out of the bush. The owners were so exceptionally guest oriented that they reserved the whole lodge for us – unbelievable!

Before I continue with that 'too good to be true' story: the lodge was closed due to personal reasons by the owners’ just weeks after we were there early 2013. Sad for many many satisfied guests.

Back to the current trip and me returning from the bush: flying over the lodge I saw several cars there, thus there must be somebody at home. Unloading my stuff from the chopper at Karamea 'airport', paying the bill, a quick side trip to the beach and the ocean, where three locals fished with their Kontiki longline fishing device, catching several red snapper.

After the beach I passed the the former accommodation and appreciated restaurant Riverstone, I learned that this venue was closed as well... (later I was told that a divorce was the reason for that sad situation. The homepage is still up but as of 01/2015 the location is closed, check if you are interested)

The welcome by Jenny and Mark, the owners of the former lodge, was exceptionally warm and friendly. It felt like home from home! I was immediately invited to take seat between a bunch of family and friends. And the best of all – if everything works out, they might visit Bavaria in the not so distant future!

A similar situation of friendship turned up some days later in Queenstown with guide Bruce and again in Te Anau – those are the very special moments you only experience when you travel destinations several times. Traveling this way,  you come to places that developed a meaning to you, not just tourists’ attractions and points of interest but real connection to a place, a landscape, the people and ultimately friends living there, locations and memories that cause highly intense emotions. 

After four trips many places in New Zealand SI hold such a special meaning for me.

Too bad that I had to deny the friendly offer to stay for the night as I was on the road towards some flowing water further south that called… would have loved to stay but with just four weeks you should better have an eye on the outlined rough route.

Reefton was the destination of that afternoon. Ending up there in a Motel, but to my delight the favored Tilly’s Place crib / bach / holiday home would be vacant from Sunday onwards for two nights. Saturday found me driving via Springs Junction to one of the rivers around Lewis Pass. Millions of cars drove towards me as it was the first day of the holiday season. Every second car with a boat or other device behind its hitch. 

At the trail head to the river, I packed my gear and started to walk in. Right in that moment a guy jumped out of a motor-home parked at the main road and announced that they “wanted” to fish that river as well. Did they? No they were parking and having a late breakfast. I offered them to give them a day of fishing from the mouth upwards and I would walk further as intended upstream. A burden for me as my left food reminded me every single step. Anyhow, the day was rather windy and overcast. At the first significant pool where the track comes close to the river I immediately spotted a very good fish but resisted the temptation to fish for it. As I said I would walk further upstream. Fish were few. Only in the obvious pools I could spot a couple, mostly one brown in the tail and two rainbows further up the pool. In one good pool at the end of a short gorge I spooked them all by bad and lazy habits and bad casting in the wind funneling through the tight valley. Several pools and some fish later I finally landed a nice and strong 7lbs rainbow, another one was lost. Not much for that day, but at least not blank. The motor-home was long gone as I arrived. Might have been some bloody European fishing tourists ; )

PS: I was wondering about the tramped grass on that particular river while tramping and fishing up. Later somebody told me the reason for that: a trophy was caught there recently and thus everybody went there. If I would have known that... Do not tell anybody not trustworthy where you catch big fish! BTW I caught my trophy in the river XXXXX!

Late on the way back towards Reefton I was lucky to make arrangements for two nights at the mentioned place. Strange feeling to be back in a holiday home after 1 ¾ years. Sunday, sleep in, a couple of useless kilometers, less than two hours on a river close by (lots of stones were in the riverbed) the way back to the car was mega bush bashing to get through a distance of just 50 meters. A machete would have been handy or better a rotary cuter to open a tunnel in the dense new plantation scrub, black berry and stuff. If you get lost in such a piece of vegetation - nightmare … better not to think about it.

But I had some promising plans for Monday I was looking forward for: a challenging but frequently rewarding river. Sunday was tying some special flies, cooking dinner or going to a local restaurant / pub, think I went to a restaurant that night, relaxing, taking care of the washing, writing …

Back to the bush and the fish – Part II

No fire alarm this night. Just solid sleep. (See the post before on Reefton on the fire brigade building opposite the cottage)

For the next two days I had some alternatives to choose: either an overnighter again but in a hut or some smaller creeks not too far away day by day. I went for the first option. In love of the bush, the sandflies and the nice DOC huts. The access would be a mixture of rough 4WD track and some tramping. I started rather late, paid the fly shop lady a visit and headed off. Target was a river fished some weeks before but this time further up. Pretty much where I ended fishing back than I did start now. The drive and especially a couple of sections gave me some doubts but the car performed flawlessly. Especially one section trough the bush which was a detour around a no more existing section of the old track. The last January floods took it away. Parking, getting the pack ready and fishing the same way upriver as usual with a big pack: fish the pools without it and later on pick it. The river was low and clear, some fish spotted. Rather few, but I did not expect many fish up there, due to the experience some weeks ago and the low flow rates. At the moment of writing I can’t remember what I caught this afternoon, most likely if I dig in the memory I had two nice browns of something around +5lbs in the net. I jumped one k of river as it showed some unpleasant structure due to mining on a slope close by to fish just the last stretch up to the hut. Reaching the supposed location of the hut it was rather dark, wondering where the hut should be, but I was lucky as it just happened that I found the steep bank access to the hut above the river. I should have unpacked the head lamp right away.

Lightning the fire in the chimney, having a look on the bookshelf, I found some nice evening lecture and even some up to date newspaper. Now I was informed on NZ SI issues of importance. The hut was warm and in the dim lite of the fire and the candles it looked quiet cozy. Burning quiet a lot of fire wood that evening. I would have to take care of that and replenish it the next day. Butter chicken second round this week, a beer and after some meditation by starring in the flames the call of the mattress. In the hut book I read something about rats, so I tried to close all obvious entrance holes. But still later that night the ‘trip trap’ of the small mammals started and once I had the feeling as some was very close to my head. It took some while to find sleep.

In some of these DOC huts you find strange things. Some find old fly fishing diaries of Scandinavian authors, I found a watercolor paint box – a high contrast of color to the dirty grey of the hut interior. What these colors might have painted?

Getting ready for the next day. Fishing up a tributary that was said to have very few fish three weeks ago (somebody was walking (fishing?) it for eight hours and only saw three fish), thus I was curious and had rather limited expectations. But just after a dozen meters I spotted the first trout in a nice pool. It was patrolling its pool and got suspicious, so my chances where fading. After a while the fish gave me a clear sign as it swam very close to me, stood there for a minute and then swam back to feed but much more cautiously than before. I did not succeed and left for the next one. The order of appearance of the following trout might be mixed up but surprising things happened. Pretty much in every decent pool – not in all – was a nice brown of something between 4 and 7 lbs. In the meantime I discovered what they were feeding on: brown, gold flash enhanced, black beat head nymphs size 12 – pretty junky flies. These flies imitated the emerging may flies very well. I got a hook up on a fish that immediately went for a rock crack, I managed to pull it out just to have the trout in there again. Rood bent in half circle, I pulled the brown out again and it went downstream to a stick, I avoided  making a loop around the stick but it went under a shelf with a sharp edge and just seconds later that was it. Leader was snapped. Neither fluor nor anything else reasonable would have avoided that. It was fair the way it went and I was happy that it was a barbless fly, thus the fish might lose it pretty soon. 

The next fish was an interesting take of opportunism, as the trout was pretty much following an other fish to push it out of its territory and it still took my nymph placed ahead. Before that I was trying to catch one of the trout participating later in these territorial disputes. This fish fought again very vigorous and enduring, trying to reach an unclear base of a big rock wall where I did not want to have it at all price. The price was high as after making maximum pressure with a pretty much closed reel drag the fly came out. The river and the nature became witness of a very Bavarian swearing. I was really pissed to lose that fish. Seconds later I was again laughing about the situation and my outburst of discontent. Another – the third fish of the day – was lost in a less memorable situation. 

This river was fun, interesting structure, low clear water, nice trout now and then, I knew pretty much how to catch them and the fish were way strong. Only bad thing, up to now not a single fish came to the net. But things turned to the good and the next fish was landed: a nice brown of 7lbs. During the fight it dragged me up through the rapid well into the next pool upstream. I landed it around 50 meters upstream from where I hooked it. Tough fish!

This first fish needed a sister, it took again a while to find a feeding and open minded fish. I was not in the mood to change fly all the time as the fish were taking the described fly, but some got suspicious too quickly. There are two ways to fish in such situations: with a high amount of perseverance, frequent fly-changes and giving fish a rest in case they tend to get spooked or to give the fish some casts and in case it behaves spooky or starts to stop feeding just to head on, as the next fish is just a few steps away. The last approach is based on two preconditions: there are basically fish and you are able to spot them constantly. But walking upstream pool by pool is like constantly unpacking presents, as every pool is like a gift and a box of surprise. On the downside you might cover more ground and thus have to walk back longer in the evening. But as long as I have a fishing rod in my hand I don’t mind walking (translated: I don’t like walking without a rod or a bike on the back).

Back to the second fish. The sun was already low, I reached a pool that only gave a partial view under its surface due to heavy glare. But it was enough to see a cruising trout. I was pretty close, in such situations freezing is the best way to react and then slowly on the knees, observing the fish (as long as it is visible), considering the cast, adjusting the depth of the ‘custom fence picked merino wool’ strike indicator and finally a short cast in the direction I guessed the fish might be heading in the glary part of the pool. I only could see the indicator in the mirror like water and it moved! Strike, fish and battle on! Again a brown in best condition, strong and vigorous fighting. It had the same behavior of swimming upstream against a tight set reel drag. The fish swam out of its pool upstream trough the riffle, I had to follow and by this I did not realize a steep step on the pool inflow – I stumbled and took a short dip – (oh no! Wet again what it this case meant wet for at least two hours of walk to the car…) – fish was still on. The tug continued further upstream. I walked the fish upstream like a dog to finally land it successfully. A look on the scale surprised me it had ‘just’ 5 3/5 lbs. It was the last fish of the day as I had to turn around to rush back to the hut, pack the gear and continue to the car to drive back to Reefton. 

Part of the way to the hut was via a marked track. There were some obvious mountain bike tracks – an unpleasant experience for this brave biker, as he must have carried his bike 50% and pushed it another 30% of the stretch. Arriving on the hut I had to pay my firewood-bill. Thus collecting a whole bunch of good sized drift wood, wrapping it with one of my cords and carrying it up to the hut. More than I burned the night before. Packing, giving the hut a good sweep and leaving the rat-Hilton. Pack on the back and out. The track was rough and only suitable of hardcore ATV-freaks. After a while I reached sections where the track did not exist at all or was now a branch of the river itself. The detour was via the big granite boulders of the riverbed. Briefly after that section that made me wonder how to navigate it with an ATV I saw a tent at the track and right in that moment the owner. It was a hunter waiting for the big stag to show. We had a nice conversation for a while. It turned out he was Danish and had taken three month off for hunting in NZ. The roar was just about to start as the nights were not yet frosty. 

After another kilometer I reached the car. Finally I could get rid of the drowned waders from the last fish and put on dry clothes. Now just the 4WD track separated me from Reefton. I managed that well and even the tight detour section through the trees without damage. In an open section of the track I got out to have a fascinated look on the thousands of stars and the milky way in that clear night. No light pollution at all. Unfortunately the Canon only took the noise reduction picture while a considerable falling star made its way over the firmament just below Orion.

Reaching Reefton – it was pitch dark and around 8 pm I headed straight to a restaurant to get something to eat. I took a little bit of friendly persuasion to make the lady to still serve me. But I go my dinner and a couple of beers.

Back in the cottage, shower and relax. 

A great excursion!

Next morning I packed and went back to Ines and Tobias in Nelson. It was good to drive that way not tired at night time but well rested in the morning.

I was already looking forward to come back to the Reefton area to fish.

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