Another NZ Trip Report
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Once again, this is a long report with tons of pictures. I split it into two posts to try to make it load better. You may need to refresh multiple times to get the pictures to load.
A few weeks ago, I hit the road and got the hell out of Auckland for a few days of fishing with a buddy from Auckland (Hamish) and his friend from Australia (Josh). It was an awesome trip and provided some excellent fishing. We spent 4 long days on the water including some pretty serious hikes into our fishing spots. On average, I would guess we covered about 6km per day. The one day, we did about 9km, and they definitely weren’t 9 easy kms…it was 9km of slipping over big, wet boulders, deep river crossings, and skirting between a dropoff and live-wire electric farm fence. One of my biggest mistakes when it comes to my gear is not immediately buying metal studs for my boots. For some reason Simms decided to no longer offer pre-studded boots, and sells the studs separately. After dropping $200 on a pair of boots, the last thing I wanted to do was spend another $40 for studs. In hindsight, that was a mistake. I ended up spending the entire trip slipping, sliding, and falling while trying to keep up with the other two guys, one of whom I swear is half mountain goat. It was slippery even for them with studs:
We ran into some rain on the first day, but a little rain never hurt anyone:
And the fish didn’t seem to mind either:
Nothing beats a cold beer after a day on the river:
We rented an old sheep shearers’ cabin that Hamish knew about, which was absolutely awesome. It was a perfect little fishing retreat complete with all the necessary conveniences and none of the unnecessary luxuries. The cabin dated back to before 1900 and had a guest book with entries dating back as late as 1917. It had a lot of history, and was a great place to put your feet up and enjoy a cold beverage after a long day on the water.
The cabin was named “Te Whare Ra,” which, to the best of my knowledge, is Maori for “The house in the sun.”
Dinner is served (obligatory IA food shot):
And, a photo for Tim P., Speight’s Special Dark to wash it down:
The next day it was back to the river. Lots of hiking and casting, while keeping an eye ever-trained on the water to spot fish. It ultimately proved to be a somewhat slow day, but when you land fish like this, there is nothing to complain about:
The scenery wasn’t half bad either:
Josh with a fish in net:
One of the really fun aspects of fishing in NZ is the fish spotting. In some areas, 100% of your fishing will be done to spotted fish. It’s incredibly fun to slowly crawl up the bank peering into the water and suddenly spot a torpedo-sized shape elevating off the bottom to feed.
I was lucky enough to get to fish to a couple of very large rainbows with the other guys spotting from above in this section. It was funny because they could see everything perfectly from high-bank, and all I could see was sheet glare covering the entire surface of the water. All I had to rely on was directions from the spotters, and I quickly discovered that having more than one spotter is less than ideal.
Me: “Which fish should I cast to?”
Them, in unison: “That one.” Of course, they were pointing in opposite directions.
The entire time it’s just a chorus of, “look at that fish.” “This fish is huge.” “Tim, you wouldn’t believe the size of this rainbow.”
Thanks guys, no pressure or anything.
I cast.
“One meter further.”
I cast there.
“Ok, now one meter back.”
Really? I cast there.
“Oh…OH…oooohhhhhh. He just followed it for about 5 meters. Ok, try the other fish.”
I cast to it.
Suddenly, my spotters send down a barrage of “oh” and “yes”. I have no idea what that means, but I assume that the fish either just followed my flies or moved into plain view since that what previously elicited similar responses. My dry fly didn’t even budge.
“Tim, why didn’t set?”
“Because my fly didn’t even budge.”
“The fish just ate your nymph. We watched it eat it and spit it out.”
At that point, I made sure to clarify exactly what command meant “set the hook.” Even though it got a little frustrating from time to time, it was definitely some of the most fun and memorable fishing I have ever done. That location has become the subject of many, many office day dreams since our trip. I can’t wait to return.
This image shows what it’s all about. Stealth and patience are essential, and an elevated position definitely helps:
I spotted an absolute monster brown just upstream of where the above photo was taken, which was one of my coming-of-age NZ moments. I’m not entirely inept at spotting fish down here, but I’m also no ace. There is a definite learning curve, and just when you think you finally have it figured out, you spook a monster that brings you right back down to earth. In this instance, it definitely felt good to be able to spot a fish that more seasoned eyes had missed. I’m not going to venture a guess as to exactly how big this fish was, but it was agreed that it was the largest fish we saw in that entire section of river. It was the kind of fish that gets your heart racing just seeing it. Unfortunately, we had a little run-in with a guide that tried to get us to leave this spot even though we had arrived well before him, were 100% in the right to be there, and had put in the hard work to get there (as apposed to him just driving his clients through the farm). He didn’t exactly handle it in the most polite way, which put a little damper on the rest of our day. We even tried to give the monstrous brown we had spotted to his clients, to which he mumbled something incomprehensible and walked away. Apparently his clients don’t like sight fishing to enormous browns. He was a real class act.
Anyway, that kind of ruined the rest of the afternoon and caused us to rush through the aforementioned huge brown. I may not have even hooked it, but that fish will live on in my memory forever. Hopefully I will return before too long to pay it another visit.
Hamish fishing the honey-hole one last time on our way back:
A classic NZ view:
The hill of death. This is where we hiked down to access the river. By hiked, I mean slid. The hill was mainly clay, and the rain from the previous night turned it into the approximate texture of an ice rink. It was mostly a semi-controlled slide down the hill in the morning for me, and not much better in the afternoon…take one step up, and slide two steps back. The blackberry bushes just added to the enjoyment. I swear they literally reach out and grab you with their thorns. However, look at the pool at the bottom of the hill…well worth the pain.
The evening once again consisted of ice cold beer, delicious food, and a little evening fishing below the cabin.
We ventured down to the river after dinner. I took my 7 weight, sink tip, and a variety of my favorite streamer patterns. It was time to see if I could tangle with a nighttime hog. It quickly progressed to total darkness and I was left casting only by feel and sound, bringing back fond memories of fishing the hex hatch back in Michigan. Sure enough, in the pitch black, I felt a tug, lifted the rod, and was tight to something. The next thing I felt was violent shaking highlighted with the sounds of splashing out in the river. Fish on. 5 seconds later, everything goes loose. No more tension, no more head shakes, no more fish.
I fish 12lb. maxima to my streamers, so I couldn’t bring myself to believe that my leader had snapped. Turns out the fish had actually snapped the hook (about a #6 streamer hook) at the bend. My guess is that this fish would have rivaled the Loch Ness Monster in size.
This fly used to have a rear hook on it:
A couple other shots from that night:
The next morning came all too early. Up by 6:00am, out the door at 6:30, and on the water by 7:00am. No rest for the weary, there were fish to be caught.
This day proved to be nothing short of amazing. Lots of hiking, lots of fish, some sketchy river crossings, and even an eel sighting or two.
Although the picture doesn’t show it well, the above river crossing proved to be one of the more difficult crossings of the day. We initially thought that we might not be able to cross and would have to turn around. I decided to just go for it and see if I could make it. It got to about chest high at the deepest point, but I made it. Pictured above are Josh and Hamish crossing on the way back to the car, linked up to avoid going for an unplanned swim. At this point, they just spotted an eel that they estimate was 2m long. Hamish is poking at it with the stick he picked up to use as a wading staff, trying to scare it away. Apparently it didn’t even budge. For an idea of the size of this thing, it’s head was described as, “it looked the head of a black lab.”
Of course, they decided not to tell me about the eel before I crossed. I get halfway across, at which point they are dying of laughter on the other side. As I’m just about out of the water, Hamish says, “Dude, we just saw the biggest @$*#ing eel right where you just walked across.” Thanks guys.
All the kiwis that read this will probably think that I’m the biggest pansy in the world. No, I’m not afraid of eels, but yes, I think they are disgusting and hate them.
Once again, a delicious dinner followed. This bad boy was nicknamed the heart attack special:
And an ice cold beer next to the fire back at the cabin:
Here are a few more random shots from over the course of the trip:
And to end this report, arguably the greatest photo of all time. The fish in NZ are exceptionally spooky, and nothing but the best camouflage will suffice. The true kiwi camo – a tie-dye t-shirt, tennis shoes, and a steinlager:
(photo credit: Hamish Carnachan)And the moment immediately prior. “Just let me set my beer down and I’ll hold it up for a photo…”
(photo credit: Hamish Carnachan)Most likely more pictures to come. Hamish and Josh both had their dslr’s along so they got most of the fish shots. I’ll try to get some of those pictures up here soon.
Here’s another batch of pictures from that trip. Photo credit for all of these pictures belongs to Hamish Carnachan.
A nice rainbow that took a “bomb”:
Josh with a bow:
Hamish with a stout brown:
Me, working a delicious run:
The fruits of my labor:
This fish apparently really didn’t want its picture taken.
Attempt #1:
Attempt #2
Success:
Mayfly:
Spring Creek bow:
More pictures yet to come, so stay tuned if you’re interested.
Real men drink speights… foreigners drink that steiny muck! ;D
You can judge a man by the size of things which annoy him.
Tim…dont EVER spend $40 on studs lol…hit up a hardware store and buy hex head screws, sooooo much cheaper, and the exact same thing…n screw em right into the bottom of your boots just make sure you get short ones…
I’m glad that everyone seems to be enjoying the pictures so far. NZ is truly an amazing place.
As promised, here is yet another batch of pictures from the same trip. This time, the photo credit for all of these pictures belongs to Josh Nester.
Hamish, hooked up in the rain:
The G&G:
And the release:
Me, hooked up on a spring creek:
Spring Creek bow:
Unfortunately, my cast isn’t too pretty [s:14bek9dg]when it involves two huge tungsten beadheads[/s:14bek9dg] ever:
Hamish searching for a willing fish:
A couple of Josh’s browns:
Hamish with a stout brown:
Blushing:
A solid rainbow:
This picture is hilarious. I just lost a really solid rainbow, and I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve when I fish. Hamish said he was readying himself to dive in after my rod because he was sure I was going to throw it into the river. I’ll give you one guess as what word was about to come out of my mouth:
After a little calming down:
Wide loops and heavy flies:
Hamish, hooked up:
Me, hooked up…the chase is on:
And the chase continues:
Fish to hand:
Face time:
Hamish and a bow that fought twice as hard at its size would suggest:
Heading upstream:
I’ll be back for this guy after he adds a few pounds:
Another brown:
The capstone to a great day. This fish was an absolute battle to land. It started by running downstream for about 300 yards, then proceeded to try to weave its way through the ball of roots that you can see in the background of the picture for about 15 minutes. Jash was fighting the fish, I was standing near him at water level with the net tossing rocks up to Hamish, who was positioned up on the bank throwing the rocks into the water to scare the fish upstream and away from the tangle of roots. Surprisingly, it actually worked, but I guarantee that if anyone had been watching they would have been rolling on the ground laughing at the whole situation.
That’s the last of the photos from this trip. It was an awesome trip. Now it’s time to start planning a trip over Easter. If any north islanders are interested in meeting up to wet a line over the extended Easter weekend, let me know. Clark, I would even be a “real man” and bring Speights. ;D
Cheers,
Tim
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