Les and Zach took the upper Patterson Bush Beat and Jeff and I started down the Lincoln Beat only to find shitty spotting conditions and very few fish. There is so much good water on this stretch of river, however we were only able to see 10 feet of it at a time due to the poor visibility. We battled for the first 3 or 4 hours, spooking the few fish we saw. Eventually, I became a bit impatient and frustrated and told Jeff we either need to start blind fishing or sit down and wait for the sun to break so we can actually start spotting fish from a reasonable distance. Up until then, we hadn't casted to a fish and the ones we did cast to, were one wrong presentation away from buggering downstream.
We stopped to have some lunch which consisted of 3 slices of aged cheese, hand shredded slow roasted chicken breast, incorporated into a dijon aioli, topped with a delicately laid layer of dijon mustard for presentation, of course, wrapped in a whole grain tortilla shell. But, really what it consisted of was a tortilla with sharp cheddar cheese, or in Kiwi terms, "Tasty Cheese", canned dijon flavored mayonnaise chicken plopped down onto an aggressive pile of whole grain mustard, mushed together and eaten as fast as it was made. A pretty tasty meal, but lacking in the gourmet department. This was eaten just after our amuse-bouche of tasty cheese and summer sausage eaten together in whole. A great way to get the head right and regain the energy to battle poor conditions.
When we finished lunch, our luck turned and sun peeked through the clouds. The grey slowly turned to blue and we all of a sudden had ideal fishing conditions with great spotting and low winds for accurate casts. The fish started to come out of the wood work and we began to have opportunities at feeding fish. This isn't to say that the fishing was easy. If there was a doctorate degree given to fish with an emphasis of determining what was real and what was our fly, these fish would have walked with honors and proudly hung their plaque on the wall. Aside from our experiences with trout feeding on willow grubs down south, these fish were by far the most technical to date. I felt as though I was pulling all of the tricks out of the book. I almost went midgy on their asses. I would change up flies 7 or 8 times only to have them give me the middle fin and spook, leaving me speechless and heart broken. But, we received more chances.
Jeff hooked into the first fish. Of all of the flies for this fish to eat, he took no time in demolishing a peacock humpy. He had this fish on for a minute or so, but ended with it throwing the hook leaving his line limp and his morale broken. This did, however, give us hope that these fish would eat if we presented the right fly. It's amazing what that glimmer of confidence will do to an angler.
I have to give Jeff a ridiculous amount of credit for his ability to spot fish on this river. Once the conditions improved, he spotted about 90% of the fish before they spooked. I wish our fishing was as on point. We kept walking and casted to a few more fish. Still nothing. Finally, we came upon a fish and spotted it late. It didn't flee, however. It stayed in its lane and continued feeding. We slowly backed off and got into position to make a cast. It was my turn to fish and I threw a few different flies at him and he didn't budge. Didn't even twitch. Showed no interest. I attempted a "Bionic Bug", which is a local pattern, tied by a guy named Stu Tripney who owns Stu's Fly Shop in Athol. The fly is a gigantic fly that doesn't really look like anything and has doll boggly eyes glued onto two foam posts. This fly usually is a last resort and will sometimes induce a reaction strike with trout. You plop it down near the fish and with all the commotion on the surface, it will sometimes cause the fish to react without thinking and it will engulf it. Well, even though it worked in the past, this fish didn't have any interest. At this point, we walked back up to the fish, even with its eyes and looked at it, just to make sure it was a fish we were fishing to. Sometimes you are casting for a half hour to a rock without knowing it. Once we saw it feed again, we backed off and reformulated our plan of attack.
This entire time I thought this fish was spooked, but when we saw the fish eat right in front of us, when any other normal fish would have been a 1/2 mile downstream by now, we knew we had a definite chance at hooking this fish. I tied on a size 16 Shroeder's Caddis with a traditional, hare's ear soft hackle off the back, trailing about 2 1/2 feet. On the first cast, the fish swung out and hammered the soft hackle. I set the hook and my rod was bent. From there the fight was on.
When I first started casting to him, I thought he wasn't that big. Maybe 3 to 3 1/2 pounds. Big back home, but average to below average in New Zealand. I'm not gonna lie, we're starting to become a little spoiled. He was a strong fish, however. I was laying the hammer to him pretty good, but he wasn't budging very easily. I eventually got him near shore to discover that this fish was enormous. I beached him in some shallow water and Jeff jumped in behind him and tailed him. We put him at all of 7 pounds and up until this point, marks the brown trout of my career. It was an absolutely perfect fish and a perfect way to end a tough day. It is a time like this that makes all of the patience and dedication worth it. I could have quit and walked back to the car at that moment.
I'll remember this day forever. I hope for the opportunity to one day top this fish by the time I leave New Zealand. But, if not, 7 pounds is pretty damn good.
Zach also roped one in on the Oreti. Right at 6 lbs. Good on ya, mate!
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