A sunny day with a light breeze. The car thermometer displayed 18C as we arrived at the access point. The river was at a good level for fishing. We were not sure what to expect as we had both individually fished this section but without much success. I suggested to my companion that, to commence, we fish as a team as for much of its course the river runs through a tight valley making it easy to gain height and look down into the water for fish. I offered to spot until he caught a fish.
Walking up the path and passing a stand of mature willow trees we quickly gained height and a good view of the river. The farmers in the valley raise sheep and the grassland was in wonderful condition, a dense sward of mixed grasses and broadleaf plants. The grass was occasionally interspersed with Matagouri shrubs, also known as Wild Irishman. Bushes of this slow-growing plant can be more than one hundred years old, its greenish-white flowers produce excellent honey, and its ferocious thorns quickly warn the unwary to keep their distance.
With Matagouri on the down-slope side as cover, I took the lead up the path, stopping frequently to scan the river which ran over a rock pavement created some twenty to thirty million years ago as volcanic magma. At the third Matagouri stop I spotted a fish holding in the current in a channel close to our bank. My friend had a good look and, backtracking down the path, made his way into the river below the trout. As I watched, the fish rose to take something from the water’s film.
It took at least five minutes for my friend to emerge into view about thirty feet downstream of the fish. He would only know the fish’s position if it rose, which it had done only once. So, to maximise his chances of a capture, I asked him to watch closely as I walked up the path beyond the covering Matagouri and outside of the trout’s field of vision to a position parallel to a point I had noted on the far bank. Raising my rod I called to my friend to ensure he marked the distance to cast. I then retreated back to the bush and suggested he commence.
Tackled up with a typical Kiwi dry-dropper rig of a of a size 14 Adams dry suspending a size 16 nymph with a tiny bead, his first cast was right on-the-money. His dry landed gently about 3 feet above the fish and his nymph entered a short distance upstream. As his flies reached the trout it turned downstream; I think it was looking at the nymph, but it didn’t take. His next cast was not so good, missing the tight bank-side channel and floating wide into the main stream beyond the fish’s attention. As the fish had previously fed from the top, I called down suggesting he remove the nymph to improve accuracy. His third cast mirrored his first; the Adams drifted slowly down to the fish, and just as slowly, the trout’s head broke the surface. My friend tightened and the fish charged out into the river’s main current.
I was in not position to observe the details of the fight as, slipping down a steep grassy bank, I was eager to join the fray. My friend travels with a landing net simply too small for New Zealand conditions. A week before he had captured a big fish, probably 7-8lbs. I was fishing a little upstream and on the opposite bank when his excited shout alerted me to his success. Holding his tiny net in the air, the big fish’s body was folded in a U-shape in the net with its head above the frame. I shouted that he should get the fish back in the water; instead of holding the net frame parallel with the river’s surface, he tilted his net and shown an exit route the fish promptly departed. No photo, no weight. It was certainly the biggest trout my friend has ever caught. It made his holiday.
Arriving at my friend’s downstream shoulder, my large McLean net at the ready, I was pleased see to my friend’s rod bent deeply and the fish on a short leash. We quickly landed and released the jack fish, 5lb 2oz on the Salter lie-detector.
We fished together for another hour and then drifted apart. I scanned the water as I walked up the valley to the lovely accompaniment of linnets celebrating the view from the top of Matagouri bushes. I was carrying my 5wt rod matched with one of Mike’s SLX lines fitted with an 18 foot leader. I soon spotted a good fish holding close to my bank. Dropping down, I slipped into the river and slowly made my way up. A current line flowing under a bank-side willow was diverted by a big rock and pushed into the deeper channel close to the bank. As I watched, the fish rose to eat something from the surface film. I tied on a size 14 Hare’s Ear Nymph, applied a smear of floatant to the upper thorax and cast up. Head, then shoulders pushed through the surface. I waited until the fish was heading down before tightening. A quick tussle, weigh in the net (4lb12oz) and release.
Early summer sight fishing in South Island is a fine way to spend a day.
