Issue 175, Summer 2020/2021 TROUT FISHER New Zealand's dedicated trout fishing magazine MOMENTS LAKE LYNDON A TYPICAL OUTING $9.90 Issue 175, Summer 2020/2021 TROUT FISHER New Zealand's dedicated trout fishing magazine 2 Moments By Hannah Waghorn 6 Conservation Issues A letter from John Kent 8 DUH! Deep Lake Flyfishing with Peter Storey 12 NEW PRODUCTS From ILFF, Kilwell and Manic 16 A Good Evening & Contrasting Methods Episode 9; Stories from the Bach by The Lake, by Peter Gould 20 Braised Trout, Singapore-style Wild to the Table with Tony Smith 24 A Typical Outing By Les Hill 30 Keep Learning Cruising The Mainland with Zane Mirfin 36 Avoiding BOOT PRINTS By Tony Orman 40 Lake Lyndon The closest High Country lake fishery to Christchurch, profiled by Nick Moody 46 Asking The Right Questions Southern Waters with Mike Weddell 48 Trouting Vignettes By Garrett Evans Here Spring Creek Magic (Zane Mirfin) Cover Sharing a day's fly fishing with a good mate is a great experience (Andrew Harding) Copyright No part of this magazine, in either ISSN 1173-1761 PRINT or ISSN 2230-6420 DIGITAL (available via zinio.com and magzter.com) form, may be reproduced in any way without prior permission of the publisher. All enquires to: Peter Storey PO Box 10105 Rotorua Mail Centre Rotorua 3046 NZ [email protected] 07 (+647) 3628 914 0274844494 (text works best around here) www.nztroutfisher.co.nz @TroutFisherMagazine Issue 175 ~ Summer 2020/2021 1 It has been about two years since I first took up Fly Fishing. Dad has been fishing for centuries, and seeing that my younger brother Finn took it up, was a natural and quickly became known as the annoying kid who catches all the fish, I decided to give it a crack. I have no idea how Dad put up with all my grizzling, but after catching my first trout on a fly I was immediately hooked and have been spending most of my spare time on the water since. With intentions of becoming a Fly Fishing Guide some day, I would like to share one of my successful fishing trips with you guys . MOMENTS By Hannah Waghorn was a mild winter’s afternoon, the river was low, the clouds were high, and the stags were roaring. Only, stags were not what we were after. This evening my Dad, brother, It and I were targeting the elusive and cunning Rainbow Trout. I lowered my foot into the crystal-clear water, the sudden temperature change sent a shiver up my spine. I’ve been in this river countless times but am always shocked how cold it is. Staring into the rapids, I half expected to see blocks of ice drift past me. Trudging on up the winding riverbed towards the ranges, fly-rod in hand, we spotted numerous trout. Resting in eddies, sipping Mayflies from the fringes of the rapids, or residing under the shadows of overhanging ferns and occasionally darting out to snatch a drifting nymph. The fish were in good numbers, but to our misfortune, we had no luck getting one to close its hooked jaw around our delicate, precisely positioned flies. Trout can be so difficult on dull, cloudy days! Nearing the end of the session, we trudged up a widened portion of the riverbed. Head hanging low, I watched my sodden boots crunch the gravel while splats of water stained the small stones amongst it. We passed by where the river diminished into the vast field of gravel, leaving a small trickle of water running against the cliff. I had never spotted a fish in there before, so when my brother froze and waved at us to move back, I was caught completely by surprise. Finn had his eyes trained on a dark shape in the water, I had to look closely to realise it was a trout. The river Drink bottle top-up stop Another fly change 2 TROUT FISHER New Zealand's dedicated trout fishing magazine Issue 175 ~ Summer 2020/2021 3 Hovering on the bottom of the 3-foot-deep pool, the Rainbow could be seen actively feeding. Strewn throughout the flow, sticks protruded from the water, quivering incongruously like spines on a monster’s back. These obstructions were a real problem, unacceptable snags for my flies to catch on. A variety of plants suspended over the body of water, dangling and drooping at head height, they were exactly where my flies would go if I didn’t perform my cast precisely. Steadying my breathing and relaxing my heartbeat, I stripped line from my reel and raised my rod into the air like a lightning conductor. I brought my arm back, then forward again in one quick, swift motion, propelling my flies through the air and onto the surface of the water upstream of my target. The dry fly landed precisely and delicately, the trailing dropper making a slight splash as it entered the water. My muscles tensed and I poised to strike as I focused on the dry fly gracefully drifting over the trout. Suddenly, the dark mass bolted upstream, leaving my size 10 imitation of a Mayfly Dun bobbing sadly on the current. Every brain cell in my skull was positive that the fish was spooked. I had to look twice when I saw it drifting back down towards its resting spot. Turns out it was my lucky day. One flick and my flies were thrust through the air and placed on the water, causing a slight ripple to disturb the natural flow. next few moments my head played in slow motion; the moment my dry fly bobbed The over the trout, the moment the fish’s mouth flashed white as it enclosed around my lightly weighted Hare and Copper nymph, the moment my dry halted, and the moment it took for me to strike. My rod tip strained under the pressure of the hook up, my 9ft 6wt Airflo Pursuit bending dangerously. Thrashing and wildly shaking its head, the fish fought against me. Using the current to its advantage, my trout tore up stream as fast as his tail could propel him. I found myself clumsily stumbling as I followed, one hand on my rod, one hand desperately fumbling for the drag on my Behemoth reel. Keeping my line tight, a sharp jolt of adrenaline coursed through me as I realised what my trout was up to. Under those dangling snags he went. Both of us desperately struggled on either end, one using its cunning instincts to try to outwit the predator hungry for adrenaline, the other keeping her weapon of choice as low to the ground as the rocky river bed would let her. Under two more snags, and the trout was in open water once more. I saw this as my opportunity and focused on pulling him into the shallows, urging him to lift his head out of the water. I prayed the knots in my 8lb tippet would hold as Finn approached my now thrashing fish. One quick scoop of the net and the fight was all over. A few moments of joy and shouts of happiness later, I raised my prize 5.5lb Rainbow Trout to the camera, but before my brother could snap a decent picture, my trout squirmed out of my grip with a sudden wriggle of his streamlined, slippery body. Back into the river he swam, unharmed. You would never know that he had ever been caught by a curious, adventurous, fly fisher like me. The fish that didn't want its photo taken More portable than ever McLean’s new foldable weigh net (M115) · Calibrated weigh scale · Belt attachment · High grade spring stainless steel frame Mclean Angling Ltd – New Zealand For more info go to www.mcleanangling.co.nz 4 TROUT FISHER New Zealand's dedicated trout fishing magazine Issue 175 ~ Summer 2020/2021 5 LETTERS CONSERVATION ISSUES In the Spring issue of Trout Fisher I was delighted that Mel Hollis wrote about conservation issues, especially in Canterbury. About 25 years ago, Dr Wayne McCallum then of North Canterbury Fish and Game, took me on a tour to show me some of the pollution of Canterbury Streams. Then the Irwell River ran dry from aquifer over-extraction for irrigation and I became very angry. Twelve months previously, I had taken world famous American angler Mel Kreiger to fish the Irwell at Brookside. He could not believe we had such a wonderful spring creek so close to Christchurch. So I wrote an article titled Death Of The Irwell for the Christchurch Press and sent copies to Fish and Game NZ, Trout Fisher magazine and various government ministers. As a result Wayne and I appeared on the Holmes Show showing the drying and pollution of the Selwyn River. Bryce Johnson then began his 'Dirty Dairying' campaign. I then spoke to various Rotary Clubs, two Canterbury fishing clubs, Federated Farmers, a number of conservation minded groups, the Green Party and on two occasions, the Environment Canterbury Council, at that stage dominated by farmers. I have lost count of the number of letters I have sent to prime ministers, and a succession of conservation and environment ministers. As a result of two conservation minded councillors being newly elected to ECan, John Key's National Government decided the Council was dysfunctional and would be unlikely to support their unsustainable introduction of irrigated dairy farming on the alluvial Canterbury Plains. The council was dismissed and replaced by commissioners. I joined a group of democracy supporters and followed an empty coffin into the last ECan council meeting.