Fishing Real Estate

Story and Pictures: The Seek for Massive Browns on the South Island

Written by: Matt Smith

The writer together with his first New Zealand brown trout.

It was day one, in a sudden downpour. I used to be wadered up in mid-December, feeling the wind and wishing I had worn another layer. A little bit of thunder rumbled close by for good measure. Knee-deep within the rain-swollen Wangapeka, on the northern finish of the South Island of New Zealand, I had maneuvered out beneath the slender run on the route of my information, Aaron Ford. After throwing two or three cautious measuring casts to only beneath the situation he had described, I made an extended solid towards the “huge smudge” to which he had pointed.

“To the
left! A minimum of two ft longer and two ft left. To the left!” Aaron shouted. I
assume he and I each hoped his repetition and emphasis may direct my wandering
solid. “Yep, received it,” I stated.

Aaron’s
ardour was contagious, and I used to be too excited to fret a lot about his rising
urgency and impatience with my misfirings. I used to be used to throwing huge flies on
quick leaders with out a lot precision, so touchdown my nymph simply above an upriver
spot . . . within the wind . . . with a 16-foot chief was wishful considering at finest—notably
with a nasty case of “buck fever.”

The roads to the rivers ran by means of paddocks and woods.

“To the
left! Don’t you see him?“

Truthfully, I
didn’t. I later discovered to say “no” and search extra route, however I answered
“sure” this time to calm Aaron. The I steadied my nerves and solid once more.

With this
effort, Aaron was hopeful. “Good solid. A bit proper. However that simply would possibly do
it. Prepare!”

Kahurangi Nationwide Park produced beautiful surroundings and beautiful trout.

And in a
heartbeat, there it was. My little indicator dipped, and I instinctively set
the hook—possible a bit arduous. The river exploded in entrance of me the place the smudge
had been, and my line rocketed throughout the large movement after which down beneath me.

“Properly
performed mate. Properly performed.”

I used to be in
the sport, quick to my first New Zealand brown, the most important trout I had ever
hooked. Aaron grabbed the hood of my coat to maintain me from falling, and off we
raced downstream within the knee- to thigh-deep water alongside the financial institution—following the
beast to achieve line and keep shut. One other crack of lightning lit up the river.
After 250 yards of stumbling, gaining and dropping floor, I used to be in a position to flip the
huge fish, and he hit the web. Trout fishing would by no means be the identical for me
once more. Fingers shaking. Coronary heart racing. Thoughts blown. “Welcome to New Zealand, mate!”



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On the
third day, we rode heat air currents up into the majestic Kahurangi Nationwide
Park by helicopter. The surroundings was jaw dropping, after which we descended by means of
the cover and onto the ground of a mystical river valley. We spent an
unforgettable day alone in the midst of the unimaginably dense forest. Arm-in-arm,
we forded the heavy river for stability, crossing forwards and backwards to the very best
lies. With sand flies the one fear, it was liberating to deal with the fishing
in entrance of you with out the what-was-that-noise? vigilance required for
bushwhacking in Alaska, Montana, Idaho, or Oregon. Excessive up Within the Kahurangi,
that focus is critical. The fish, which tackle the river’s hue, appeared like
ghosts, simply barely discernible from the off-color, excessive water. Those we caught
actually glowed, indescribably buttery brown with nearly surreal greenish-blue
backs and yellow pectoral fins.

Once I
shut my eyes, I nonetheless see one trout specifically, casually finning in shin-deep
water, solely ft from the financial institution. It turns barely, tipping up, mouth open, and
big jaws shut slowly round my small dry. It’s the second all of us anticipate, frozen
in time.

Persistence is Every little thing within the River and on the Highway

Whereas the
Kahurangi and helicopter had been arduous to beat, each day in New Zealand is a present,
and also you don’t know what you’ll unwrap. Day 4 was an important instance. After
driving by means of hops farms, weaving  by means of paddock gates, and watching herds of
sheep and wild rabbits, I hooked an absolute missile of a brown within the rolling
Wangapeka. Aaron and I chased the large fish no less than 1 / 4 of a mile
downstream, passing the absolutely loaded rod from left to proper hand and again
by means of tree branches, and climbing over and round three rock jetties earlier than lastly
and inexplicably dropping the trout in calm water 20 minutes later. The road went
slack, and it was gone. All that effort after which nothing.

After
climbing again upriver and questioning what might need been, I hooked a pleasant fish on
what was my very subsequent solid. The second fish is pictured beneath. The primary solely
grows bigger and extra epic in my reminiscence.

The writer with one other stunning Wangapeka Brown .

That first-cast
success was an outlier. Aaron and I needed to work for many fish, and every
alternative felt like a hard-earned prize. For me, seeing fish and casting
precisely had been each troublesome challenges. Aaron’s eagle eyes and training made
an enormous distinction. I struggled all through the journey with head- and crosswinds,
notably when fishing with two nymphs and longer leaders. I inadvertently
hooked every part there may be to hook—myself, streamside bushes, overhead timber,
my boots, and my waders—in seemingly equal components and nearly all the time with good fish
on heart stage. I tangled the just-untangled chief. I hooked the identical tree
department on consecutive casts. I missed fish, hanging each too early and too
late, and as soon as in no way. I discovered New Zealand fishing extremely humbling and
filled with classes. Pre-trip goal follow for accuracy, notably with the
have to straighten out the lengthy leaders in a breeze, would have made the
expertise even higher. The excellent news is that, when you get a fly in the correct
window in entrance of the fish, on the proper depth, with out drag, and with out
scaring the fish, it should often eat. When all of it comes collectively, the fishing
might be nothing wanting extraordinary.

Maybe the
greatest spotlight of the journey was a fish not pictured. On my final day, I fished
the Motueka River on my own, in entrance of the lodge the place I used to be staying. I had
simply an hour or so to fish and clear up earlier than my van journey to the airport. I
wished to see if I may fish alone with out Aaron’s teaching, talent, and
fish-spotting.

As I slowly
walked up the river, I felt assured in what I’d discovered throughout my week with
Aaron. I noticed a pleasant fish, possibly three kilos, finning in an eddy. I tied on
a small, nymph with a tungsten bead, solid simply upstream of the trout (near
the place I used to be aiming), and watched the fish rise and inhale the fly. I felt shock
and elation in equal measure, and it was the proper ending to a spectacular
journey! Or so I assumed.

Information Aaron Ford searches for the following goal.

After
releasing the fish, I walked the 250 yards to the highest of the run, nearer to
the place the lodge path and a trickling aspect movement met the river. To my nice
shock, in a morning already filled with them, I noticed a second good fish. Thanks
to Aaron for the training on trying within the thinnest of water. There he was, a
four-pound brown tight to the financial institution and in solely about 18 inches of barely shifting,
clear water. As a precaution, I added three ft of 5X to elongate the chief
to about 16 ft. I wished to keep away from any fly line within the air above the cautious
trout. I tied on a dimension 16 Parachute Adams, planning to strive the dry first, with
a nymph to comply with if I didn’t get a glance. I crept in to place slowly on
fingers and knees, sat up on my knees, and laid out my line. Fittingly, my first
two casts had been errant, each quick and proper. At all times proper. I may hear Aaron
in my head, “Longer, and left. LEFT!” I picked up my line, false-cast to
straighten the chief, and let it fly. Respectable solid . . . prepare, I assumed. The
fish finned, adjusted his place barely, tipped up, and ate. Slowly and
casually. A thousand one, a thousand two, and strike. Fish on! It was an
unforgettable ending to an unforgettable journey.

Massive because of Seth Berger, Maggie Hoffman, and Orvis Adventures for the Helios three and the great journey and journey assist. They weren’t kidding concerning the sand flies. Tights, solar gloves, a buff, and spray helped tremendously. Thanks additionally to Aaron Ford and UppaCreek Guiding for the incomparable steering and fish-sighting, fly-fishing training and the profound expertise. I discovered extra in every week with Aaron than I may have imagined. Thanks additionally to the extremely gracious John and Kate Kerr and their great employees at Stonefly Lodge, which encompasses a beautiful location and extraordinary hospitality. I will likely be again.

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