The Best Day Ever - By Stephen Benjamin

Grant picked me up at 8:00 to head north up the Mohaka river. After the previous day, when we were pretty much rained out, he hoped that the river conditions would be more conducive north and higher in the mountains. When we got there, the river was running high with some color, but was still very fishable. We started working a group of about six brown trout in the 16 to 22 inch range. There was not much flow in the backwater, and the fish were cruising; they wouldn't touch anything. We worked on them for more than a half-hour with no result. We moved over to a faster run and worked a two nymph rig in a fast run where a side channel came in. Fish were lying in fast water at the seam where the channels met. I struck the first fish and held him too hard. It was a big brown. Grant estimated it at 5 pounds. I had to strike and immediately let go of the line as these fish took off.

A few casts later produced a nice rainbow of about 4 pounds. The fish took off downstream, and I had to wade across the fast side channel, which was difficult for me since I have poor balance. Grant virtually grabbed me by the collar and dragged the across to a spot in a big pool where I could pressure the fish into slower water. Gorgeous fat rainbow.

The next strike was strong. I knew it was a big fish immediately. And again, it took off down the rapids and Grant muscled me through the crossing. The fish just kept peeling line. By the time I reached the big pool, maybe 50 yards downstream, the fish had peeled out most of the backing. Grant kept yelling "Rod up. Rod up. Let him run." The fish had jumped several times, so we knew he was huge. The pool was very large. The rapids came in and flowed maybe another 50 yards downstream and then the river made a sharp dogleg to the right down into another rapid. I couldn't follow any further, so I had to hold him there. But he kept peeling line until he was at the edge of the lower rapid. I think I had less than 1/4" of backing on the reel. If he went downstream again, it was all over. I was now fighting the fish and the line. The river flow had bowed my line and backing until it made almost a 90o turn to the right. I was afraid just the weight of the water on the line would pull the hook out, but I had to pressure him. He jumped a couple of times at the end of the line and he looked tiny at that distance.

I kept the pressure up and after a few minutes, fortunately, he decided to swim upstream. He came so fast, I couldn't reel rapidly enough to keep contact. Grant kept yelling, "Get your rod up and keep the pressure on."

I yelled back, "I can't. He's coming at me too fast."

Finally, I recovered and enough line to regain contact and put pressure on again. The fish then swam right into the left bank of the big pool. This put him around a clump of submerged trees and branches. The line was now making a left-hand turn to the left through the branches from where I was. Grant had worked below me, but the trees made that impossible for me.
"You have to wade out and get the line off -- it's wrapped in the branches."

I cursed fluidly but waded out -- fortunately, it was only waist deep and not a fast backwater. I struggled but finally got the line freed and had a direct connection to the fish. I was lucky. Any surge while the line was fouled would have been it. I finally had the fish coming my way. As I got him above the trees, Grant had his net out and ready.

"Pressure him to the side," Grant yelled. "Keep them off balance."

I tried, but every time I got him moving toward the shore, he would surge again. With a 5X leader and a size 16 fly there was no way to push him too hard. After many aborted attempts to get him to the net, I finally got his head up, and Grant slid the net under him. What a fish! What a fight! We estimated it at its least 20 minutes. Far longer than any other trout, I had ever caught - even the eight plus pound rainbow in Alaska, because that was on heavier tackle. He weighed in at its least 6 pounds by Grant's scale - probably about 25 inches. I was soaked with sweat, but ecstatic.

After photos and handshakes, Grant asked, "Want to do it again?"

I didn't need to answer. That was three fish from one spot - the big brown I lost and the four and the 6 pound rainbow. Very unusual for New Zealand to catch multiple fish in one spot like that, Grant said. But, hell, why not. Another few casts to the same location produced a brown of about 3 pounds. Same drill - through the rapids to land in the pool below. Grant had all but dragged me across that channel four times now. He decided enough was enough and we moved up the river.

Perhaps the high, off-color water and overcast was working in my favor with the fish being stacked up in likely spots and less spooky. I asked Grant what the best day his clients have ever had on the Mohaka was. He laughed and said that I already had, what would be considered a reasonably successful day - four fish on and three landed, including a very big rainbow. The best day his clients had ever had was 10 fish landed.

The rest of the morning, produced a magnificently colored 5 pound rainbow, another four pound rainbow, and another brown of about 5 pounds. After lunch the afternoon got off a bit slower as clouds rolled in and there was a nip in the air. I took a couple more rainbows of three and 4 pounds and another brown of 3 pounds. The fish were all incredibly fat and strong.

The rain finally started in earnest and we were going to fish out a very pretty run before quitting. I worked up to the tail of a pool where the water with sweeping out around a bend to my right, looking upstream. I cast to a current seam just as Grant spotted a fish close to the bank, less than 10 feet above me.

"Too far," he yelled. "Closer and upstream from there."

Before I could pick up for another cast, he yelled, "He turned, he's taking it!". The fish had turned and rushed the intervening 10 feet to take the small nymph hard. "It's a brown," he yelled.
"I know. And it's big."

The fish broached showing its size. It wallowed in the slower water, giving me hope that perhaps I could stop him before he got his head. Maybe we could net him quickly. I dropped the rod parallel to the ground and put as much pressure on him as possible. Grant had his net ready, but every time I got the fish coming, he would bulldog out again into the current. I kept trying, but he was too strong. He kept moving us downstream, to where there was another fast rapid that broke off sharply to the left and away from us, around some large and small boulders, and then threw another rapid.

Grant said. "If you get to the rapid, you'll have to let him go. We'll follow."

At a couple of points I had to climb over a bank to get high enough to follow the fish as I ran down past some gorse and blackberry tangles. I made a last stand above the rapids, but couldn't hold him and the race was on. He barreled down the rapids into the midpoint pool. That put him on the other side of the boulders. Grant was yelling something, but I couldn't understand him. He had run below the rapid. I stumbled my way around rocks and through shallows. The line was now wrapped around and between some rocks. That's what he had been saying. I had to wade out to release it. God, I was exhausted, but I did it and felt the fish again. At that point, he took off down the second rapid into the tailout run below. I stumbled after him and tripped, falling and smashing my right knee on the rocks. I must have screamed out in pain, and was just kneeling there. I think my eyes were closed, but the rod was high in the line tight.
Grant grabbed my rod arm. "Are you okay?"
"No. I smashed my knee," I grimaced.
"Can you get up - to go after the fish?"

It was a choice between pain and the biggest brown I had ever hooked. I stumbled to my feet and limped downstream with Grant lifting me by a handful of my jacket shoulder. Thankfully, the fish had also about run its course. I kept the pressure on and after multiple attempts, Grant was able to net him. 6 pounds plus. About 25 to 26 inches. What a fish! The fight didn't last as long as the big rainbow - maybe 15 minutes - but overall it was tougher, much tougher on me.

We took photos and returned him. I looked at Grant and said "I can't top that. Thanks for an incredible day."

10 fish landed, four lost. Total weight about and 43 pounds, give or take - net scales can get close, but are not that accurate. I may never have another day of trout fishing to equal this, but I'll sure keep trying.