FlyFishing New England - Destination: New Zealand (page 2)
Was that a drip I felt?
Brent was worried about the fishing. It had been raining so much most of the rivers were way up. Volume was one problem but the muddy water was causing Brent to lose sleep. Being seasoned anglers, Stephen and I knew there were no guarantees of good weather or good fishing, even if you travel around the world to a spectacular location. It is what it is and we would make the best of it.
Richard Booth was our guide. In our three days we went through thick and thin with Richard. We explored the Buller River where Richard was disgusted with the infestation of Didymo (a digusting invasive algae the Kiwis call “rock snot”), Lewis Creek, Owen River and Bartlett Creek. The scenery was beyond description but the rain made fishing difficult. We were also plagued by bad luck. Though other guests caught some big browns, the big fish eluded us. One young lady, a guest from Tennessee told us "I can count on one hand the number of times I have fly fished and two hands the number of fish I have caught while fly fishing." Her first fish was an eight pound brown. In fact, many browns were caught between four and seven pounds (including some taken on the submerged front lawn), but not by us.
| Huh? New Zealanders - Kiwis - have great expressions! A good cast brought the compliment "bloody marvelous" or "puurrfect." The black flies were bad but we were fortunate to miss the “mausi” (mosquito) season. "Good on ya mate" means you did well, but to sound like a native it must be pronounced all as one word as in "goodonyamate." One afternoon Richard said he was feeling "peckish." He reached for our lunch pack. The best Down Under expression is "buggah." I cannot print the real definition in this magazine. Suffice it to say when a Kiwi gets the short end of the stick he exclaims "buggah" or "buggah me!" |
By the end of the week, I felt as though we had let Richard down. Never has a guide worked so hard to get a client onto fish. Every time we got near a large brown something would go wrong. Our casting failed us; another guide, not from the lodge, came out of the woods and spooked a fish we were casting to; and probably our best chance to sight cast to a big brown was ruined when a road construction crew dumped dirt into the river. By the time the water cleared, the fish was gone. We just could not catch a break!
Rain, Rain, go away! Dammit!
We did have some good luck on Lewis Creek. First, what a beautiful freestone river this is. I would have been happy to hike the river all day. But casting into the fast waters, we started to catch rainbows, one after another, in the two- to four-pound range, all taking bead head nymphs. Finally, some of the fishing we were hoping to find! Richard was unhappy. This was the same place where his client, just four days before, was spooled. Twice! That’s correct, she was spooled twice in less than ten minutes. I looked over my shoulder to see how Stephen was doing and I saw ominous clouds coming over a nearby hill. Within a minute I heard a too-close crack of thunder and seconds later the deluge renewed itself causing us to run for shelter. Just our luck!Big fish or not, the fishing experience was fantastic. There is so much water to explore, some of it uncharted. Richard described a portion of Owen River where passage by fish and human is blocked by a gorge and waterfall. He was told the river above the falls was stocked many, many years ago and, to his knowledge, it has never been fished. He promised to take me there the next time I come to New Zealand. We shook on it. Richard exemplified the guides who work out of Lake Rotoroa Lodge. A great conversationalist, Richard, Stephen and I shared a lot of time in his car driving between locations and discussing all topics from fish to politics. On the water his knowledge, skills and patience are unmatched. Richard was what a guide should be.
At home at the Lodge
Evenings are special at the Lodge. Guests start to filter downstairs for a cocktail or two before dinner. The conversations continue into the dining room and back into the lounge after dinner. It interesting to see where the guests were from; a retired couple from Massachusetts, a young couple from Tennessee, a young couple from South Africa and two fishing buddies from Australia. Our Australian friends, Bob and Dave, were a riot after we got past their accent (I found their accent almost as difficult to follow as the couple from Tennessee). They only fish once a year and only at Lake Rotoroa. In fact, they leave all their gear at the lodge rather than hauling it back to Australia where they will not use it.