A friend and I went on an excursion last weekend to chase some fish in close-quarter jungle combat. This was about as far from the stereotypical NZ-style fishing as you can get – instead of long, light leaders and big, backcountry scenery we were fishing 10-20lb tippet and climbing on our hands and knees through the dense vegetation. When hooked, these beasts would charge straight for the nearest tangle of downed-trees and stumps, which was never far away. The fight basically consisted of locking up the reel and seeing who (or what) gave way first in this piscatorial tug-of-war. Often the hooks pulled or the fish won, but in a few cases we came out on top. This fishing is notoriously hit-and-miss, usually featuring a lot more miss than hit. On this day though, we hit right. I’m afraid my karma bank is back to a balance of zero.










