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Trip Reports

Jack Kos – Bring the pain (3/4)

The day started well…

 

This solid rainbow took a well weighted colubriscus after several presentations. It was the first fish we saw. I was happy.

This happiness, however, was not to continue.

Andrew and I were planning on putting some serious leg work in and heading up up up. All was going well until we concluded that the gorge was impassable, so we’d have to take the alternate route around. Quite how it happened I’ll never know, but for some ungodly reason Andrew and I found ourselves on opposite sides of the river both following what we thought was ‘the track’. As it transpires my ‘track’ turned out to be nothing more than a blaze trail put in place to get to the pest traps. It was absurdly hard going. There was no defined path, just sporadic animal tracks that all of a sudden gave way to waist high falls through rotten logs. I pushed on for longer than I should have, assuming Andrew had to be ahead of me. Eventually, after managing to injure myself in some unprecedented ways, I beat a retreat. Back at camp I wrote a message in ash on our egg carton, and decided to try and salvage something from the day. After all, it couldn’t get worse, right?

I wasn’t sure quite what section of river Andrew might be fishing or whether he was ahead of me or behind me, so I decided to try and do a deep wade to get myself into a position to fish a bit of awkward to access water. The wade was particularly deep at one point, so I decided to shimmy my way across a couple of rocks. Then all of a sudden I hear an odd noise followed by a thud. I turned, just in time to see my Pelican waterproof camera case falling from my now split bag. The image of the case hitting a rock, splitting open and my Canon G11 sinking to the bottom of the river is seared in my memory. After retrieving the camera I simply sat on a rock in disbelief.

Eventually I gathered myself, crossed the river and started slowly making my way upstream. My heart wasn’t really in it, so I wasn’t hopeful when I spotted a smudge sitting a foot from the edge. I had to sit on a log to fish to this fish, so there was a little novelty to the attempt. My first cast was perfect. My second saw the wee beadhead pheasant tail rocket into the water about 6 inches to the right of the fishes face. He ate. The fight was uneventful, but the capture of my first brownie (and quite a solid one at that) of the trip raised my mood slightly. As for the pictures, well…you get the idea.

 

A little after this Andrew and I bumped into each other. He commiserated with me over the demise of my camera and we commenced our assault on the river in earnest.

 

It wasn’t until we came to a major bend in the river that created a large swirling pool that the action heated up. Andrew pulled a good fish from the head of the pool that had been rising consistently. It was a horrible drift because of the swirling currents, but eventually the fish ate his wee nymph. It then tore madly around the pool until he subdued it.

 

 

I figured that had to be the end of that pool after the antics of Andrew’s fish. However, a fish in the far side continued to rise. It was moving a long way to feed, so it felt like all I had to do was put the cast in the right place. I did, and it ignored it. It wasn’t until near the end of the drift when the fly started to skate along the surface that the fish tore backwards and engulfed it. I’d like to have hooked it this way, as the aggression was rather neat. Sadly the hook never set. Until the next cast when my nymph got eaten. Fool me once…

 

It wasn’t the best conditioned fish, but it had been a while between drinks.

 

We continued searching upstream to no avail. Deciding to hedge our bets and head upstream fast while there was still light we skipped a lot of water. But the gamble paid off. Arriving at a pool we’d seen several fish in the day prior it didn’t take long before we’d spotted on. The fish was cruising a slow beat and inspected Andrew’s fly very closely before refusing it. All of a sudden we realised there was a second fish about 3 metres behind. I can’t remember whether Andrew had to cast again or whether he simply continued the drift, but this time his tiny nymph was intercepted. This fish fought like a trooper. A large log bisected the pool and on numerous occasions I thought the fish had made it there. But Andrew fought it hard and there’s only so long a fish can resist such constant pressure. Eventually a great rainbow was brought to the net.

 

 

A little further upstream I got another chance and after getting the drift right I was connected to a silver bullet. It wasn’t quite the scrap that Andrew experienced, but a fit well conditioned rainbow will always give you a run for your money.

 

 

With darkness descending we headed back to camp to enjoy the now traditional steak, mash and peas topped off with gravy.

 

We caught some great fish that day, but unfortunately for me it was a tainted day. Taking all the possible precautions and still drowning my camera was a real slap in the face. Still, you can’t be too upset when you’ve still got 3 more days of fishing ahead of you.

 

Over to Andrew for the final wrap up…

 

 


Lucas Allen – HAC Trip Report – Whirinaki

I’ve just received a comprehensive report from my fishing pal Matt. He has just returned from the Whirinaki with Hamilton Angling Club, they have a major soft spot for this place from what I can gather. Their club trips are incredibly popular and having recently joined the club I’m itching to get a spot on an upcoming journey.
In the meantime Matt and I have a night trip to Rotorua and a weekend in National Park fast approaching. Can’t wait. The following is a blow-by-blow account of the HAC trip written by Matt.
After weeks of planning, slaving over the vice and the anticipation of getting some late season rainbows, we set off right after work for 2 nights in central North Island backcountry heaven.  We arrived late at night to our accommodation which was small, cramped, cold as hell and perfect.  After a couple hours of food, beers and BS, we devised our plans for the morning.
We awoke to beautiful clear blue skies and a fresh frost on the ground.
Craig and I set out to the middle upper reaches, while Terry and Kane set out to the lower reaches.
We weren’t too sure if the fish were going to be around where we went, but after hooking into a silver bullet of a brownie in the 2nd pool of the day, we were getting optimistic.  We covered a lot of ground over the day and while we didnt get anything huge, but we caught a lot of fish up to 3lb. The crew got back together in the evening to recount.  35 fish landed and another 20 dropped for one reason or another had us pretty happy with day one’s outcome…but we wanted some more size.  So after a fair bit of analysis, negotiation and a couple more drinks, we decided to hike up into the far upper reaches on day 2.
As expected day two was sunny…a little warmer and perfect for sight fishing.
Terry Kane and I after walking for a while dropped into the river and found fish in the first pool.  After trying just about everything in the box, the fish had enough and took off.
We knew the next pool well.  We snuck up keeping low and saw at least 5 fish hanging out in the back of the pool.  Terry somehow convinced us that he had first crack at it.  Kane and I took our appropriate “spotting” positons on the bluff.  A good amount of heckling and a touch of positive reinforcement had Terry lean into a beauty rainbow in the 5-6lb range that went spastic and busted him off.  Damn!
I was next.  After a few well placed casts (and equal amount of heckling from the boys on the bluff) I was hooked up…bugger spat it!
We snuck up another 10 metres upstream and while hiding in the bush I managed to finally hook and land a stunner of a rainbow.  Not a huge fish but on the board.
Each pool we hit after that had fish in it, and we managed to prick at least one in each pool.  Kane’s pheasant tail variation was an absolute killer up there and in some pools he must have hooked everything with fins hooking fish on back to back casts in at least 2 pools.
Regrettably, we couldn’t spend all day in the bush and had to head back to Hamilton.
All in all, the river was freezing cold…but the fishing on fire.  Late season rainbows, perfect scenery, good company and a perfect weekend out.  Cant wait until next weekend when we do it all over again.
Matt MacCallum
Ed note. Sorry the spacing has turned to custard from the cut and paste I took from Matts email. He’s way more articulate than it looks.

Andrew Hearne – Lighting it up down south! (Day two)

So far I really liked it here. We were in a good place.

This was the day when Chris decided to chill out around camp and muck about with his bow. So while he was doing this, Jack, Jeremy and I headed off upstream together.

The day started off overcast, and ended up remaining that way. Not that it mattered.

 

There are plenty of fish in the river. Finding them wasn’t an issue. However, we struggled to catch any for a while on the second day. Jeremy decided to wait back at a section of the river where there is a lot of still water. He told us to go ahead and he’d catch up later.

Jack and I continued on our way, and finally after much frustration, Jack fished to one which was rising at the top of a long, glassy run, and it took his dry.

 

Soon after that it was my turn to bring one to the net.

 

 

It was Jacks turn once again, and it seemed like we had found our rhythm at last.

 

 

We spent the next couple of hours taking turns picking fish off one after the other. It was pretty good fishing.

 

 

 

 

Later on Jeremy caught up with us. He’d had a pretty good time of things downstream too.

Things went pretty quiet for a bit once we reunited with Jeremy, but after a while we made it to a stunning piece of water.

Jack kicked it off by hooking into a good fish. While he was hooked up I cast to another fish feeding in the eye. I hooked up too.

So there we were, standing only metres apart and both hooked up to a big rainbow trout each. My one burst out of the water every few seconds for the first bit, and continued to do so less frequently as it tired. Just when I thought I had the battle won, the hook popped out. I stood there, shouting. I wasn’t very pleased. Jack was still hooked up. Lucky for him, he landed his one!

 

 

As I stood there feeling sorry for myself and thinking about how unfair the world can be sometimes, I spotted another fish. At first I thought it was the one which had just thrown my hook… but it wasn’t.

I cast to the fish, and it surged forward onto the size 16 hare and copper. This one went like a rocket too. It took some beating, but this time I won. It was a fat fish, and obviously very fit. This was my biggest of the day and finished up being my biggest for the trip.

 

 

That was a pretty good way to finish up. A great fish each from the same pool.

Together we walked back along the track after that. About halfway back to camp Jeremy disappeared away from the track for another look at a piece of water he’d fished earlier in the day.

Jack and I had a look off the track a couple of times too. I managed to donate some new jewellery to one fish along the way, and hooked up on the most atrocious looking pink streamer ever to swim a New Zealand river. I really wanted to catch that last fish, just to say I’d caught something on that particular streamer. I guess I’ll just have to wait for that moment.

That night around the campfire was another good one. Although I wouldn’t recommend kids trying it at home, the fire was started in the same fashion as the night before… it’s very effective.

 

We sat on our log in front of that fire, soaking up the warmth as we fed on soup, steak, rice and veges.  This was followed up with chocolate and whisky. We weren’t really doing it tough down there.

Well there goes day two. Jack will cover day three soon.


Jack Kos – Southern Sojourn (Part 1)

It’s been a couple of weeks since we got back from our adventure down south. Unfortunately essays have prevented me from posting this earlier.

 

The whole trip seemed to come around rather quickly and I was in a bit of a surprise to realise it was 1am with the plane leaving in 7 hours and no bags packed. After a rushed pack and a short sleep I met Andrew and Jeremy at the airport. We arrived in Queenstown shortly after and made our way to Chris’s place after a quick stop for a beer and Ferg (Double ferg with blue cheese).

 

Andrew and I took turns tying abomination flies on Chris’s vice…

 

While Jeremy stared into space. I think his mind was elsewhere.

That night we ate an enormous pizza each and drank enough to feel merry. The alarm came round all too quickly and we jumped in the car, made our way to breakfast…

And then realised we’d forgotten a crucial item. We backtracked, then drove straight into te anau. A second breakfast followed, before we boarded the boat and took in the scenic views of what has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. After a short walk we made our way to our campsite and commenced building the mancamp.

 

We were in for 4 days and 3 nights, so it pays to take a little time to get things sorted. It’s not easy to do when you’ve got superb fishing so close by though!

 

Andrew and I decided to head down and fish our way back to camp whilst Jeremy and Chris fished up. It didn’t take long before we found a fish sipping of the surface in a riffle. It was covering so much ground to feed that putting a cast in front of it was far from a given. After a couple of attempts it took Andrew’s nymph and the game began. A decent bit of sideways pressure saw the fish succumb and Andrew had his first ever Fiordland trout.

 

 

 

It didn’t take long before I got on the board as well with a slightly smaller silver specimen. Further upstream in a big deep pool Andrew got broken off by what appeared to be a very good fish. My turn again saw a nice fit fish to the net after it had inhaled my dry while feeding in the eye of a pool.

 

 

Things were going very nicely with three fish to the bank on the first afternoon. I hooked and lost another while Andrew covered a few more fish to no avail. Then in a small pool created by a branch sticking in against a bank I spotted a smudge. Andrew worked his way up the pool as we couldn’t spot the fish precisely. As the flies drifted over the lip the smudge reappeared and swung. I shouted strike just as Andrew lifted the rod. What followed was a classic example of attempting to net a very strong fish in completely inappropriate water. The nearest beach was a decent walk away, so we attempted to net it mid riffle. Given the fact that we succeeded I won’t comment on alternatives, but suffice to say that it’s not the best form.

 

Andrew with the fish of the day.

 

After that we made our way back up to camp. Andrew took a leaf out of all teenage delinquents books and started a fire with aerosol deodorant. Once the fire was going we set our minds to dinner – Steak, mashed potatos and peas. Good god was it good.

 

I went out for a night fish that night and hooked a couple of fish, but didn’t manage to land them. All in all it was a very good first day.

 

Andrew will be along in a few days time with the next installment.


Andrew Hearne – Stomping on old ground.

I mentioned a while ago that I was lucky enough to have the entire month of April off. Well, it was awesome. I did a lot of fishing.

There is a whole bunch of stuff which will be appearing on here in the next while… including the report from a great trip we had down south, which Jack is going to kick off in the next few days. Watch this space!

To keep you going until then, This is a report is from a few days ago. It puts things a bit out of synch… but never mind.

Once we arrived back from our trip south I stayed at home for a few days. I needed to recover, and I also needed to learn how to sleep in a bed again after so long sleeping in a tent.

Once I was sorted out I figured I may as well get back out there and make the most of the last days of the season, and my remaining time off work.

Again I packed up for an overnighter, loaded the mountain bike onto the rack, and headed off into the distance towards the hills. The venue for this particular adventure was one of my old stomping grounds from a few years back.

A few hours later I met Mike, and from there we drove in convoy to the end of the road. After that it was onto the bikes for an hour or so. It was just enough time for me to work up a pretty good sweat and made me realise how much I need to spend a bit more time on the bike.

That night was pretty cold, and I struggled to sleep properly in my tent. The forecast was for overcast conditions, but the next morning the sky was cloud free. There was also a pretty crisp frost coating the ground thrown into the mix for good measure.

The sun couldn’t hit the valley soon enough that morning. The temperature definitely wasn’t helping, my fingers were barely able to function in the cold, and my feet weren’t doing much better.

I hooked a fish pretty early on, which threw the hook after only a few seconds. I hooked another one soon afterwards, which did the same. It wasn’t really the start I’d been hoping for.

After my second fish got away Mike hooked one cruising the same run. This one didn’t get away, and we’d officially opened the account for the trip.

That day turned out to be pretty tough. I hooked another two fish without landing either, and Mike had a couple which went wrong too. Frustration was the order of the day.

 

That night we sat around the campfire and enjoyed the finest of three course bush meals. We had soup as a starter, followed by steak, potatoes and gravy, peas and corn for the main, and then a custard and fruit desert.

We both agreed that if the weather closed in the next morning we would abort mission and head out. Neither of us were feeling very motivated at that point to fish in the rain.

The second night was considerably warmer than the first, and I managed to get plenty of sleep. I woke up feeling pretty good, much better than on the first day. On top of all that the weather was good. It looked as though we would have a look at the river after all.

We didn’t fish very far, but we saw plenty of fish and fared a lot better than the previous day.

Because of the current from the side with good visibility I had to cross the first run of the day to fish to the first target, while Mike stayed on the other side to spot for me. To his credit he did a great job, and before I knew it I was solidly hooked up. Finally!

I landed the fish, and at that moment I wasn’t all that far from being ecstatic. The memory of my failure from the previous day virtually disappeared… because at last I had actually caught a fish!

 

A short distance upstream Mike fished at another one which ended up spooking and screaming up and down the run. As we started to move on we noticed another one sitting slightly higher up the run. Mike offered it to me. Hesitantly, I said yes to fishing to it. I mentioned it was probably spooked after what the other fish had just done, and as I unhooked my nymph the fish swung to the left to feed. On seeing this, Mike called me names, and my confidence grew.

It took about three casts to get the drift right. The fish again moved out to the left, but this time it was for my nymph and not a natural.

This one took to the air straight away and kept on jumping right to the bitter end. Each time it cleared the water we could both see it was a shovel nosed Jack. Initially I didn’t think it was all that big, but once I had it in the shallows I saw it was in great condition. This was a real bonus on top of the one from earlier.

 

That wasn’t the end of the action for the day. Just as we walked slowly along an edge discussing the subject of fish feeding on mice, another one was spotted. Mike put the cast in the right place and was rewarded with a take. This was another pretty good fish.

 

 

Not long after that we called it a day. It was time to pack up and get back on the bikes and then the long drive home.

So that was one trip. Wait until you see what else we got up to this month!


Alex Broad – Season drawing to an end

Thats right, the 2011/2012 fishing season is nearly over.

For most of us we either stop fishing and start tying flies for the next season, head to winter spawning rivers and lakes that remain open or battle it out in the lower reaches of our favourite rivers.  I had realised I had been concentrating of salt water fly fishing this summer and hadn’t done enough trout fishing, so decided I needed to cram a bit of fishing in before the season closed.

Last weekend had me down at the local (Hutt River), after hooking into a beaut jack of around 4.5lb I was very quickly in trouble, he had run into the rocks under me and I could feel my leader on the rocks.  Determined not to loose this fish I ventured into the river to try and pull him out, it got deeper, and deeper, and a bad decision had me in water up to my neck doggy paddling across a short deep part, while holding the rod above my head, still firmly attached to the trout.  I landed him, but was rather wet and dejected, managing to drown a camera in the process, unfortunately no pictures for this reason.

This weekend, I had some time to kill on Sat morn, so thought Id have a quick look around some of the water that is due to close around Wellington.

It wasn’t long before I had spotted a fish feeding away, however he managed to disappear into the murky depths before I got a cast.  A few pools further up I had another fish in my sights, swaying gently in the current and feeding well, I tied on a special fly that rarely fails me.  A couple of casts to get the drift right and he swung over, the white flash of his mouth was the only indication I needed, I stuck hard before my indicator had a chance to move, fish on!  After a rather slow but dogged fight I had a nice conditioned jack in the net.

A few more pools and another fish was spotted, same rig cast and this time I had the cast perfect first time.  The fish swung, the mouth opened, the indicator dipped and I struck.  I was met with brief but solid resistance before the fly came screaming past my face.  The fish obviously disappeared into the heavy water not to be seen again.  Unfortunately that was it for the morning, another 1 fish day, but 1 fish is better than no fish, and going fishing is better than not going fishing.

Only a couple of weeks left in the season, Ill be making the most of it.


Lucas Allen – Winter Appetizer

Well well, looks like the sun is still out and giving us some cracker days on the water. But just to reiterate Winter is not far from making itself known.

With this in mind I decided to have a sample of what’s on offer over the next few months. Tina had some business to attend to in Rotorua so I did the grateful thing and drove us over there.

Having an hour or so to kill I went for a look around town. That should read, I went to the fishing shops. We’d planned to have a lakeside picnic that evening, a cunning excuse to throw some flies about. Some quick info on my chosen spot wasn’t met with great reaction but since my mind was already there having a beer and some coldcuts we went anyway.

Turns out the lake was dead flat and devoid of any visible sign. I waded around a bit, tried different flies, we enjoyed the sunset and I said “another 10 minutes” 3-6 times. Not long after sundown I heard the first hefty splash, shortly followed by a swirl. This was more like it. I tied on a Wooly bugger trailed by a lumo fly and reassessed my game.

A few bumps from weed or the bottom had the trigger finger twitchy so when the gentle take finally came I strip struck into something solid. My first targeted “Winter” spawner was bolting out the door as I sorted things out. Then after a good run into the backing I had to run backward, onto the road all the while stripping line like crazy. Just as thoughts turned to the hook pulling the weight came back on. This fish was mad, it didn’t know where it was going! Eventually I flicked the lights on and helped it to the beach.

Not too shabby and in bloody good condition, this one's going to the smoker.

Shortly after we were driving back home, content with our day out. With that result I’m looking forward to freezing my arse off in pursuit of more fine Winter fishing. Although I’ll probably rethink that when the frost sets in and I can’t move my fingers.

Lucas