A First Seasons Fish

With the start of the season soon upon us (well, a month away but I'm getting excited already!) I thought it would be good to review the fishing year just gone, my first as a fly-fisherman, or any form of fisherman in fact. OK, I had a rod of some sort when I was very little and did actually catch one fish but that was many moons ago and no memory lingered of the actual how to go about catching fish. Embracing the outdoor lifestyle as soon as we arrived in NZ, I thought where better to learn a new skill and, having thought about taking up the sport in the past, where better place to learn and what better excuse needed than the possibility of visiting some spectacular scenery and hopefully hook a few trout in the process?

We all have to start somewhere and as I did not have the luxury of a network of friends who already fished to show me the nuts and bolts, I signed up for a weekend course to learn the basics of theory and fly casting. Not put off and with the words of advice to use the new skills within the month echoing in my head the necessary kit was procured and I hit the park next door and the Ashburton River to practice my casting over the winter in anticipation of October 1^st.

Now it is all very well to be able to vaguely cast a fly, actually hitting the river is a different prospect entirely. Thankfully I was very kindly invited to join a couple of guys on opening day (who I also joined on several subsequent trips), who even gave me first cast of the day to a fish sighted little over 50m from the car. Getting ready to make that cast was near on terrifying, not wanting to make a complete hash of things and spook the fish or knot my line on the first attempt. It was with relief then that with trembling hands, my bead head nymph gently plopped into the water, although somewhat wide of the target. Several casts later, struggling to cast across the wind, it was time to move on as our quarry gently finned away. There was not long to wait for another opportunity as my turn came round again and the indicator obligingly plunged from view. Fish on After a brief battle a 2 1/4lb brown came to the net, result! Things were to get even better when towards the end of the day a 6 ½ lb hen was landed. I certainly can’t complain if a little beginners luck helped provide such a successful first outing, with more than a little help from some more experienced companions.

It would be fair to say that it was me who had become hooked and looking back at my record of the whole season managed to squeeze in plenty of afternoons, evenings and full days on the water in locations as varied as South Canterbury, the MacKenzie region and the west coast. Not all were successful but it was seldom longer than a few trips before a fish or two were fooled, generally after spooking plenty of others in the process. That has been the biggest challenge, spotting the fish in the first place as opposed to fishing the water blind. It is easy enough to spot a fish after it has spotted you and is making its escape. A little harder is getting there first and not disturbing a fish while it is happily feeding away. I imagine it is this hard earned skill that really makes the exceptional trout stalkers stand out from the crowd and can only hope that things slowly get a little easier. Practice makes perfect and all that!

Inevitably there were plenty of first along the way: first fish on a fly, first on a dry and first on a self-tie. First in the dark, first brown, first rainbow. Just need to get my first from a lake, first on a wet, first on a terrestrial…..there is plenty to aim for (first trophy maybe?!).

There are also several highlights and special moments to go with those first two fish. Most of my fishing has been done solo so I have to rely on memory to go with only the few photos taken. A weekend trip to famous waters where I arrived in time for a prolific rise on nightfall and claimed a lovely 4lb’er. The subsequent day in torrential rain but not another soul on the water where plenty were seen, most spooked but a couple of good ones brought to the net and released. The challenge of catching dinner for the group on the Tekapo and succeeding with a tasty 4lb rainbow. The only fish taken for the pot, coming from a well stocked river should not be a problem. Heading to the backcountry after generously being given permission to access over private land and spending a few days in idyllic wilderness with only the sandfies for company, of which there were many and I was the one on the menu.

The side-hobby that has developed as a result of this new fishing obsession is fly tying. There are plenty of worse ways to spend the evening that sat in front of a vice, producing the vital ingredient to tempt the fish. While it won’t really save much compared to buying those flies tied by the experts, there is undoubtedly something satisfying about catching a fish with one of your own concoctions and while there are exceptions to every rule, the general consensus is that presentation is more important than form anyway, which may explain why I have snagged a few with my meagre offerings. I’ve been sticking mostly to nymphs so far but will have to think about trying a few more dry fly creations.

So what are the stats so far? Well, I did not record every evening trip to the river for an hour or so (of which most were blanks with nothing caught), but for those days I did record I made 28 trips in total ranging from an hour to full days and caught 43 fish at an average of a little under 2 lb. Ignoring the tiny fish that bravely intercepted nymphs that would have doubled their weight if eaten, the fish numbers fall to 27 at an average of 2.8 lb. No monsters and no days where every cast resulted in a hook up but a little effort goes a long way and there were plenty of rewards along the way to keep interest up. I can’t wait for next season to start so I can continue this new past time, acquire even more “essential” gear (trademe has already privided a new vest!) and maybe catch a few more trout in the process. I hope to tackle a few different areas close to home as well as returning to several familiar locations for another go at fooling the local population. Who knows what will happen but I’m sure it will be fun!

A New Abode and Winter Hits

After looking around approximately half of the houses in the Ashburton district, 95% which were major renovation projects with excessive price tags or just plain old dumps, we settled (or more accurately Amy fell in love) on a 4 year old townhouse. It was a little over budget but despite my best efforts to swing the favour towards an older house on a section (plot) twice the size double glazing won out in the end! And so it was that after a little to-ing and fro-ing a price was agreed, I had a little lie down in a darkened room, and we signed on the dotted line. All that was left to do was arrange insurance, sort out the mortgage, get a builders report (there have been some earthquakes after all!) and check all the paperwork was kosher. Everything is now falling into place and all being well we move out of our small, cold unit on 16th September...exciting!

In between house hunting, there was still plenty of time for some fun as we returned to Little Mount Peal on Sunday morning. The forcast was for snow flurries early on that would clear by lunch. This was spot on and the sun came out as we cleared the bush line however it became clear as we neared the top that although the summit did not appear snow covered, the track had turned into an ice flow. The last 50m of the 1000m climb was slightly hair raising to say the least but we soon made the comfort of the shelter to have a reviving brew! Slightly more relaxing was another jaunt up Mount Alford, a mere 600m or so. We walked up a little later in the day and were treated to some fantastic light as the sun lowered and we looked towards Mount Hutt.



The other big news is that snow has arrived in Ashburton. We missed out a month ago on the snow that blanketed the whole of the south island but this time the whole of NZ has been affected and after yesterdays dusting we woke up to half a foot of the white stuff. As this is the first snow in town for 6 years, which the locals still speak of in whispers due to all the power cuts that resulted, Amy and I had a little walk to the river before work to enjoy the spectacle and take a few pics. Things come to a standstill here just as much as back in the UK. Yesterday half of town was closed and school canceled so I imagine we may be the only ones "working" in the whole of Ashburton. The major benefit is the fact that the ski fields may actually have a few pistes open after what has been a terrible start to the season. I went up to Mt Hutt for the day with friends and while the main pistes were open due to the snow makers working overtime, off-piste there was not even a sprinkling to cover the rocky terrain.

As it has taken me so long to post this, we did make it up the hill and I can attest that it was the best days skiing we have had to date at My Hutt although we took things a little more easy that some of the bigger days last year, managing only 12 runs and 5589 vertical metres. The sun was out, the powder was there, all the lifts were working and the potato wedges were tasty! All skied out, we went up to the Ashburton lakes for a sandwich and short walk on the Sunday. We had intended to walk up the appropriately named Mt Sunday but dared go no further than Lake Clearwater as the roads were getting more and more covered in deep snow.