Reports	Links Fishing New Zealand by region Saltwater flyfllingers
December 2012 - January 2013
Roy Eliasson of Bovall (a beautiful fishing village on the Swedish west coast) has spent December 2012 and January 2013 with me in Turangi, stalking brown and rainbow trout. Lake Taupo The great lake and its river mouths have produced lots of fish and spawning numbers are up as well. Boaties have reported good catches and fly fishermen have also done very well at the river mouths. Roy and I have not done a lot of fishing on the lake as we have concentrated our efforts on the Tongariro river and the smaller lakes. However, Roy caught his biggest wild rainbow ever in the rip of the Hinemaia at Hatape. A beautiful hen fish of just over two kilos. Roy now swears by Lee Hinkleman's rabbit smelt imitations. Generally, fishing the river mouths is much easier in the dark than during the day. Tourists seem to avoid night-fishing, whereas the locals tend to sneak up behind you at 10 o'clock at night to fix tomorrow's supper. The Tongariro The Tongariro is a mighty river and Turangi near its estuary is often referred to as "the trout capital of the world". There are some 30 pools below the winter fishing boundary line and even more above it. The river has been fishing unusually well this summer with exceptional evening rises. Lots of strong fish in good condition in the 40-50cm range. This is not a cicada year, so we have not tried our cicada imitations. The success fly for evening rises has been Lee's slow water caddis and my own drowning caddis. Roy and I have fished some pools that I didn't try before, and Lars Skalman (Swede living in Sydney since around 1980 and a regular on the Tongariro for 20 years) introduced Roy to the Kiwi way of fishing - with a strike indicator. The method doesn't suit me as I tend to stare at that piece of yarn and forget everything else. Among the new pools this year are Cattle Rustlers, Kamahi, and Cicada Wall, which have all seen fantastic evening rises. "Matching the hatch" is a must during an evening rise. When there is a full moon, Kiwis stay at home. Is it just another myth that fish don't bite when the moon shines? Lake Kuratau A small lake with small fish (some up to a couple of kilos) in abundance. The ideal place for beginners like Roy. Easy to wade, no bush behind your back, so when the wind is from the north or north-east Roy likes to spend the evening there. To catch more of those small beauties, Roy will have to accept to use smaller flies (size 16 and smaller) and a finer and longer tippet than his usual .22, at least before dark. Lake Rotoaira This lake, with thousands of birds and Mount Tongariro in the background, is a great choice for fishing during the day as well as after dark. The fish are usually in excellent condition and you do expect a trophy fish to bite anywhere at any time. As access to the shore is very limited most people use a boat, but Roy and I have a couple of places where we can use waders and reach cruising fish. We have definitely been more successful on this lake than anywhere else. Small nymphs as well as streamers seem to work most of the time. Mount Tongariro is a volcano which actually erupted quite unexpectedly in November, just before we arrived. It's really a fantastic background with white smoke constantly billowing into the skies. There is a kind of duck called Paradise Shelduck, and on a couple of occasions the same six young birds have gathered around us in the water. One day they actually followed us as we went ashore, continued to follow us as we walked towards the car, stopping when we stopped. Did they believe Roy was their mum? I asked Roy the other day why he was wading so deep when there were actually fish jumping behind his back very close to the bank. "I think my only chance to catch a fish is if it jumps into my waders", was his typical reply. Lake Otomangakau This lake was one of the venues for the 2009 world fly-fishing championships and considered by the participants to be hard to fish. It holds both trophy browns and rainbows. Both our biggest brown and our biggest rainbow were caught here. The water level has been very low which has probably made it a lot easier for ordinary anglers like Roy and me. One dark evening Roy found it necessary to a take roll of tissue paper out of his rucksack and walk a hundred or so yards up the bank to squat behind some bushes. As he was rising to his feet, hoisting his waders, he realized another angler had moved to within a few meters away. The angler looked at Roy in serious disbelief, and pressed for words he said: "Are you a local?" Roy, who is a former art director and copywriter, did not lose his bearings: "No, I am a bushman". True to his deep wading habits, Roy likes to make his way onto a small sand island in the lake. This is also a favourite spot for many of the birds on the lake. Roy does not like noise so when the Canada geese get too noisy he chases them off "his" island, but they keep coming back. No wonder he has to hope for fish jumping into his waders. Roy can not believe that great big monster fish will actually take a size 16 or 18 March Brown nymph, so more often than not he sticks to his size 8 Mrs Simpson because it is beautiful, it is a New Zealand classic, and a fish showed interest the other day.	Roy in danger in the Tongariro! Wading too far put him in a position where he actually needed help. Lars is teaching Roy strike indicator techniques on the Kamahi pool Cicada wall. Waiting for the evening rise. Sunset over Lake Kuratau. Lake Kuratau fatty caught at sunset. Lake Kuratau fatty in the pan. Roy's favourite: fried with manuka honey, cream and secret herbs. Lake Rotoaira and Mount Tongariro. Smoke but no eruption today. Watch out Roy! You are wading too deep again. Roy has hung a beautiful Rotoaira fish in the shade (he really hooked it; it didn't jump into his waders) Socializing with Paradise Shelducks in the fishing paradise of Lake Rotoaira. Lake Otomangakau brown. What a beauty! A sizeable Lake Otomangakau rainbow.
Special report by Marcus Stenman
Another great day, 2011-01-28 I clearly remember an article I read in a fishing magazine when I was a kid. It was about a trip to a place far away. I don’t think I did understand where that place was by then but one thing was for sure; sometime I should go there. It was no doubt about it. That place seemed to be a paradise and it took me a couple of years to go there and find out my self. But now I know. New Zealand is my paradise. I flew there on New Years Eve, soon a year ago, and stayed until the end of May. During these five months I experienced a lot of amazing things and met a bunch of wonderful people. Some days I was lucky enough to do both, for example one day in Turangi. I went into the Tourist centre in town to find out more about the famous walk Tongariro crossing. I made a booking for the next day and was on my way out through the door when I heard something familiar. I had to stop and listen closely. Yes, it was Swedish. I turned around and saw two gentlemen standing by a map, pointing and discussing. They were talking about last nights fishing trip. Is this possible, I thought? I just had to go there and introduce my self. The two gentlemen, named Sven and Roy, were really nice and after just a few minutes I was invited to their house. We had a cup of coffee before we went to the most unique fly shop I have ever visited, go there and I think that you will understand what I mean… Anyhow, we decided to meet again a couple of hours later and try the fishing in a special lake at night. Not too soon we were standing next to the lake and it did not take long before, the very experienced, Sven hooked and landed a big and beautiful rainbow trout. It was great to see. The hours flew by before something happened again, this time it was Roy who landed a fish and not long after that he hooked another one. His second fish made us all laugh out loud when it decided to swim between Roy’s legs and cause a minor chaos for a second or two, but it all turned out well. I wasn’t even close to catch a fish that far. We took a break from the cold wind in a calm hide among the high grass and warmed ourselves with a cup of tea. That was exactly what was needed. Just a few casts after the break I hooked a fish. It was an exiting fight in the pitch-black night and it was a great relief when I saw Roy net it. We took a quick photo before the fish got its freedom back. Nothing more happened for a while and it was time to go home. It was quite late when I finally fell asleep in my car and the following morning, when I should walk the Tongariro crossing, I overslept. But that is another story…”	Marcus with an Otomangakau rainbow Making tea Sven is into a fish Time for a spawning stickleback?
2010 - 2011
April
Golden Bay PS As I had filed the March 25 report, acknowledging that I had had very little success with kahawai, I went back to the Milnthorpe Inlet. Wow! There they were. Beautiful fish, no end. That's one of the advantages of this sport. You never know. Sometimes they are there, sometimes they're not. Turangi - Business as usual On the crossing between the two major islands, Marie scored another fishing success. She sold the car! Back in Turangi I learnt from Lars Skalman that the browns were still running in good numbers and that the rainbows had also started moving. As I have written in an earlier report, the patterns of the Tongariro spawning runs have changed over the past ten years. The major runs of rainbow trout now occur much later in the year, with peaks in October and November. Next year Maybe my four-month New Zealand fishing season should start earlier. In October? And to compensate for an early start, should I stay on another month or two? Waddayathink, Marie?	A faithful wife ready to serve coffee to a hard-working fisherman at Milnthorpe Unlike the kahawai, the mountains are never far away The Major Jones Pool on the Tongariro
March 25
Marie and I drove west from Motunau, just north of earthquake-stricken Christchurch, across Lewis Pass to Westport. The road is a fantastic drive along rivers and streams and beautiful hillsides. The Buller River Buller, with umpteen tributaries, originates in the north-western mountains and enters the sea at Westport. Base yourself somewhere in or near Murchison, some 100 kilometres east of Westport, and you may well think you're dreaming. The scenery, as well as the fishing, is awesome. A young guy from Westport took his girl-friend up the Buller on her first fishing-trip. She hooked into a trout. After some time the guy had to take over and play the fish for two hours. A big fish? Well, just another 20-pounder. The coast around Westport The Buller river mouth is a good place for kahawai, and so is the whole area around Cape Foulwind, just south of Westport. As we only spent two nights at Westport, I didn't get the chance to try. We stayed at a marvellous B&B, run by Charles and Jacky Bruning. Charles is a keen fisherman, photographer and writer. He knows the Buller and the west coast very well. He told me about the young couple above. Golden Bay Golden Bay is situated in the north-western corner of South Island. In the north, the bay is sheltered by Farewell Spit, a 35-kilometre-long sand dune, and to the west and south there are high mountains on either side of the Aorere valley.  Farewell Spit is on the news from time to time as whales and dolphins tend to get stranded there. On one occasion, in 1991, 325 whales were stranded, but thanks to massive human efforts almost all of them were rescued. The largest river in Golden Bay, the Aorere, meets the sea at Collingwood. In the 19th century this little community was a port and a centre for gold-diggers and for coal mining. The Aorere is a good trout river and at the mouth you catch kahawai, snapper, and more. There are more rivers and streams that enter the Golden Bay. One stream, which is a tributary of Takaka River, gets its water from the Pupu springs. For centuries these springs have been a sacred place among the Maori. The water is said to be the clearest in the whole world, and I must say I believe it is. What about the kahawai? Well, I have to admit that I haven't caught anything bigger than a two-pounder. Naturally, there are good reasons (!) My best excuse is that they are "schooling", which means that they appear in big schools out at sea at this time of the year. Marie's kind of fly-fishing I fished at the Aorere mouth one evening when a boat, returning from fishing at sea, slowed down and a guy threw two nice snapper at my feet. That's a catch Marie keeps reminding me of.  Snapper is the boatie's, as well as the surfcaster's,  prime target. Marie also loves the gurnard I buy from the supermarket, and she enjoys collecting clams on low tide. Wading with stingrays at Milnthorpe Milnthorpe is a small settlement about four kilometres south-east of Collingwood. There is a small river and quite a large inlet, creating turbulent tidal currents. This is an excellent wadable spot for fly-fishing and I have enjoyed a few sessions there. There are massive stingrays, and they come so close that they almost touch you and you definitely get a feeling of having eye contact with them. A bit scary, but as long as you don't interfere with them they won't attack you. One day I foulhooked a stingray and you bet I made sure I got onto the beach as soon as I could. After struggling with it for a while, the tippet broke and a tangled mass of fly-line whipped back into my face. Fly-fishing from a boat? I talked to one fisherman who'd been out in a small boat targeting albacore. He told me that there is an abundance of albacore this year, and that they are easy to get to bite. Like kahawai they appear in big schools, and kingfish is not too unusual a bonus catch. Anybody got a boat for sale?	Lars Skalman says that with big trout you need to put your foot down and not let them run downstream A sheltered bay at Cape Foulwind. Someone's looking for an easy catch On the way to Farewell Spit. Awesome tramping! Wharariki beach at Farewell Spit is a haven for seals. It's great fun to see the cubs playing Pupu Springs - the clearest water in the world. If you want to count the spots on your target trout, this is the place! Collecting tasty clams is also a kind of fishing Are stingrays active at night? Looking for a boat?
March 6
No kahawai! We moved from north of Kaikoura to Motunau Beach some 80 k north of Christchurch. The place is situated at the mouth of a small river and the coastal waters are quite shallow. I spent an hour with my rod at the mouth but I didn't see a single fish. Some 40 k north of Motunau there is a rather big river, the Hurunui, which holds both salmon and trout and the mouth is an excellent venue for kahawai. The snag is you either need a boat or you need to walk about five kilometres along the beach in order to fish effectively. I  was prepared to walk along the beach, but arriving at Nape Nape to start my walk I realized the wind was so strong that I gave it a miss. Instead I drove up to where State Highway 1 crosses the river. I met two happy kiwis who had spent the day there fishing. They had caught a couple of browns, and they directed me to a beautiful pool where I spent two hours in pouring rain. Not a bite. Marie's kind of fly-fishing We took long walks along the magnificent Motunau beach. One day I took my rod along just in case a shoal of kahawai should appear close enough for my fly. But alas, no! On the way home, as we were approaching our house, I heard the question I'd been hoping not to hear: "Did you catch anything?"  I had prepared myself so I replied: "No, I saw no fish, so I did not cast. I suppose it is not too common with kahawai close to the beach in these shallow waters." He agreed and said he'd been out in his boat. He'd had seven blue cod and he'd dived for crayfish. The crayfish had just been cooked and he had hung them by their tails on his wooden fence. "There are lots of these fellas", he said pointing to the crayfish. He took one of them and gave it to Marie and said: "Take this one for tea!" Later Marie said: "You see dear, that's what I call successful fly-fishing. You just bring your fly rod so that people ask you about your luck. Then I get a chance to charm them and we can be sure of a good catch. You only need one fly and you never have to rinse your rod and stuff." Years ago my young innocent daughters bought me a T-shirt with the text 'The way to a fisherman's heart is through his fly'.	From beautiful Nape Nape it is a five-kilometre walk to Hurunui River mouth. The beach casters at Nape Nape were not unhappy about their lot. This photo was taken the day before the 90k-per-hour wind that stopped me A challenging pool on the Hurunui Walking along the beach at Motanau A good catch, or is there a catch?
February 27
Marie and I took the ferry across from Wellington to Picton in the Marlborough Sounds. A beautiful crossing! We had booked a house about 15 kilometres north of Kaikoura, which is a thriving holiday resort. It used to be a whaling station, but now "whaling" doesn't include killing them, only watching them close up. You can also swim with dolphins or seals. Kaikoura is 180 kilometres from Christchurch but we did not feel any tremors at the time of the earthquake. Fishing off the beach for kahawai and other species is possible only if you use a beach casting rod. I talked to a couple of Maori guys who had come down to "fetch a meal" of rig. They used fresh crayfish as bait and expected to catch a rig of 20 kilos and hurry home to cook it. A rig is a small shark. I found out the the Clarence River holds salmon but that "the river mouth is not worth fishing unless the kahawai are running". I went out there anyway and didn't see a single kahawai but soon hooked into a quinnat salmon of 7-8 kilos. A quinnat is the same kind of fish that they call king salmon in Alaska. As it was fresh from the sea, it was all silver and it tasted wonderful! I went back to the same river mouth twice, but without sighting any kahawai. I knew I chose the wrong time so I was not surprised that the fish were not there.	A raging sea is nothing for the fly fisherman, but the beach casters love it - in search of their favourite prey here north of Kaikoura, the rig River Clarence is coloured after a heavy rain and forces its way into the sea After the rain big salmon enter the river. This one didn't get very far upstream despite great fighting efforts Resting in anticipation of the next big fight The beach is full of wonderful things for the ambler. What's this?
February 15
The browns are running The brown trout run much earlier than the rainbow trout, actually starting as early as January. This year seems to be a good year for 'brownies'. I have caught a few around the river mouths on Lake Taupo and Lake Otamangakau, but I have yet to learn to catch them on the mighty Tongariro. Generally it is much easier to catch them in the dark, using a big woolly bugger or a rabbit, but getting a big brownie to take a small nymph or a dry-fly on a sunny day is one of my dreams. I decided to learn from someone who really knows. Lars Skalman from Sidney. Lars is actually a Swede, born in Stockholm. He graduated from Ester Mosessons in Göteborg, where one of his teachers was Benny Lindgren, a celebrated fly-fishing guru. Lars left Sweden only twenty years old and has lived in Sydney for nearly thirty years. He is an esteemed cook and chef, and he is also, in Marie's words, an outstanding yoga teacher. Lars has been coming to New Zealand in order to challenge the Tongariro trout for at least a dozen years and is currently staying in Turangi for a whole year. I arranged for Lars to guide another Swede, Roy Eliasson who is a budding fly-fisher, on an up-stream nymph session. Roy and I followed in Lars's steps and it didn't take long for him to spot his first brownie of the day. It was sitting below a steep bank and Lars took out a rope and tied it to a tree and then used it climb down. He had only just started letting himself down when the fish chose to find himself another resting place. What scared him, Lars's stealthy descent or Roy's red shirt? Lars does most of his fishing in the day-time. He likes to find his fish, approach it from behind and cast a nymph or a dry-fly to a spot above the fish. He uses a strike indicator and the spot he chooses to drop his fly depends on the current and the depth of the water so that the fly can be presented just in front of the fish. He uses an un-tapered leader in order to get the fly to sink as fast as possible. Lars is more particular about presentation than about the choice of fly. As for the choice of leader material, Lars agrees that fluorocarbon may sink a little faster, but it is still far too expensive. In the past few weeks Lars has spotted a lot of big running brownies, some as big as 5-7 kilos. Most of the fish he hooks into choose to dart straight out into the main stream and then go downstream. Lars knows that if he doesn't want to lose his fish he often has to go after them. It sure helps if you are a fit yoga expert. When Roy saw Lars running 'on' the water he said" Only Jesus and Lars can do that. Sven would have broken his rod and I would have broken my back. Of course, I'm still nowhere near hooking into a brownie like that, so I don't have to worry about my back - yet." Marie has arrived! Marie arrived on February 10, and was duly entertained. Smoked rainbow, silver beet, and New Zealand sparkling wine. NZ wines seem to get better and better. Yoga sessions with Lars and his group have also boosted her energy, so we are now both prepared for the South Island. The next report In the next report, Roy Eliasson and Marcus Stenman will act as guest bloggers and tell you about their experiences around Lake Taupo. Roy is a beginner and usually gets his line around his feet, but he is a fisherman spelt with a capital F. He catches fish! Marcus is a young Swede on a year-long tour of New Zealand. Despite his age, he's an experienced fly-fisher and caught a really big rainbow on Lake Otamangakau, where he also created a cozy hollow among flax and toetoei and cooked tea and coffee away from the howling wind.	Sven with a fine brownie from Whareroa Getting down to the fish sometimes requires both creativity and strength Roy had to take his red shirt off before he could get close enough to spot the fish The fish has taken Lars's fly and started darting downstream. The white strike indicator is  visible A few seconds later, and Lars is also darting downstream after the fish The result. Lars won the battle this time Smoked rainbow is an alternative, isn't it?
January 6
Holiday season From Christmas until the beginning of February is the summer holiday season in NZ with an enormous increase in traffic, and naturally also more fishermen on rivers and lakes. They usually fish during the day, so it is not too difficult to find one's own spot to enjoy the stillness and the crispness of the summer night somewhere up in the mountains. The circus fish I spent one such night on Lake Otamangakau despite Lee's usual warning that when there's a full moon there's no fish to be had. This is also one of the rules of the old Mauri fishing calendar. Well, I did hook a fish. It jumped and I could see it shining in the moonlight. It was a small fish but it dashed off like a little torpedo. Despite the light I could not see where it was heading, though. After a while I realized it was right behind me close to the bank. I tightened the line. It responded by performing a perfect circle with me in the centre and back to the bank. I tightened the line. The same thing. The third time time it did not quite reach the bank, and I could release it. What a blessing it is to use barbless hooks. They're out in a second and the fish back to safety. Lake Kuratau Lake Kuratau is actually a dam that supplies water for the Kuratau power station. I fished there for the first time back in 1998 and then you could see that it was man-made. Now it has developed into something that really looks like a natural lake. In most parts it is shallow and quite easy to wade. Water levels vary, but it seems to fish well under all conditions. The fish are generally small but in excellent condition. I have not found rainbows anywhere that fight as hard as these. They are also my choice for the pan. After two floods The Tongariro river has been flooded twice since I arrived here on December 1. It's amazing how much a big river bed actually changes during a flood, but considering the forces of such masses of water maybe it isn't. It is also wonderful to see the water clearing and finding that the fish have not been washed out into the lake (or have they come back?) The fact that the river changes more or less constantly has made me try to find new places that hold odd fish. Little pockets near the river banks are seldom sought by the average fisherman, so when the well-known pools (which I don't frequent) are crowded some fishermen seem to be hiding behind solitary bushes along the riverside, in search of solitary fish. Lake Rotoaira Lake Rotoaira seems to produce beautiful fish at any time of the day. I have tried to change my habits out there, both regarding times and methods. Although they are in super condition, the lake Rotoaira fish don't seem to stop eating or become selective. Dragon flies caught in the air? There have been lots of big dragon flies on lake Rotoaira as well as Lake Kuratau lately. Especially on the latter, fish have been jumping very actively. Do trout jump to catch flies in the air?  I have asked around, but nobody knows for sure. One fisherman says a fish jumped and took his fly when it hung from his leader as he was fixing a wind knot. I have seen (on TV) how fish in the Amazonas jump out of the water to snatch big beetles on tree trunks. Do we ever find silver beet in Sweden?	No holiday makers - but a short nightly walk to "the secret pool" No holiday makers here either, but a small stream may be a highway for trout Lake Kuratau with pastures all around A beautiful bush on the river bank. 90% of the flora is unique to NZ Fried Lake Kuratau rainbow with silver beet (stewed with cream and honey) for X-Mas Day
December 19
Back in Turangi! In the same house! Didn't hire a car this year. Bought a marvellous 4WD for NZ$ 7,500 instead of paying about half of that in rent. Will probably last a few years. What do you think, Marie? From one extreme to the other The early summer around Lake Taupo has been extremely dry with low water levels. So when we had some rain on Thursday, everybody was happy. Today, Monday, it is still raining incessantly and the Tongariro river is flooding. If you secretly hope that this has stopped me from fishing, you are absolutely wrong! Before the rain, there was excellent dry-fly and nymph fishing on the Tongariro. The bag limit is two fish, and there is now lots of talk about increasing it back to eight, which it used to be. Both rivers and the lake seem to hold an enormous number of fish around 1 - 1.5 kg. I was told that back in 1998, when I fished the area for the first time, there were over 80,000 license holders, a bag limit of eight, and still lots of big fish. For Scandinavians the problem sounds familiar. Think of all our thousand-brother lakes! When it started raining, I first fished a couple of river mouths on the big lake. Whareroa is usually a safe bet, but my visit last week did not produce a single bite. My first blank day this year. Next I tried a very small stream, the mouth of which could be seen from far away due to the murky water. They were actually right in that muddy water, and they were feeding. They took my rather big smelt imitations, but nymphing seemed a waste of time. I tried a big gold-ribbed hare's ear and two other nymphs, but to no avail. On the weekend I fished my favourite lake, Rotoaira. I started driving down one of those trails, which on a good day may well be taken for roads, fearing that my beautiful little car would slide off it into the roaring canal. It is quite difficult to imagine that quiet canal being suddenly turned into such a monster. But, what's happened? It is a road! They have done it up. What a relief. Arriving at the lake, there is not a single vehicle. It is only sometimes on weekends and during the holidays that you actually meet other fishermen there. I arrived there on two consecutive late afternoons, eager to fish into the dark. Both days  I returned home earlier than I had planned. Was I too wet? No. Had I exceeded the bag limit (10 fish!)? No. Could have, though. Was I tired? Yes! If you're unhappy with the music, don't shoot the composer, don't shoot the pianist. Do like the panda, who ... eats, shoots, and leaves. The rain it raineth every day Upon the just and unjust fella, But more upon the just because The unjust hath the just's umbrella.	Ain't she sweet? Whareroa   Black swans on Lake Rotoaira don't eat fish
2009 - 2010
April 25
Stuck in Hong Kong, I decided to fly over to Bangkok where I have now spent ten days at the Pullman Hotel. As I had experienced two of the "giant fish" venues on earlier visits to Bangkok, I tried to find a place called Boon Ma, which I had only heard of.  After extensive research I did indeed find it. It is actually a fish farm where they breed barramundi, mostly for export to China: "Thailand Barramundi are found primarily in the Chachoengsao district adjacent to the Bang Plakon river. Dry season saline intrusion into this low gradient river has saturated the surrounding low laying land with salt for centuries. Aided by a network of irrigation canals, there is a profusion of brackish water lakes and ponds which are ideal homes for Barramundi. The fish caught are an average of 10 lbs with specimens reaching 20 lbs plus. There are currently 3 IGFA Barramundi fly fishing world records from this area." >> more (Marie, did you spot the grammar error?) Very few people visit the place without arriving in the company of a guide. As I am a stubborn old geezer, I wanted to make the trip on my own. No local Thai fishermen visit the place as the day permit for them is astronomical (2,600 baht), so the only other visitor was a Singaporean who arrived with a guide. I had rather little information on the species, but had learnt that big black streamers would attract their attention. Sure, but flashy, white, white and red, green ones seemed to work just as well. I tried big dry flies for over an hour without a strike. To a tungsten weighted olive hare's ear nymph (size 8) they responded extremely voraciously, and I was actually broken twice as they took the fly. I was also broken when they jumped and shook their heads violently. Even a relatively thick leader is cut off by their sharp gills (?), so I suppose a steel trace ought to be used. I just wonder whether I was the first one to use relatively small nymphs there. I would love to fish for barramundi in the wild, but fishing any Thai pond is a one-time experience. Naturally it is an excellent opportunity to try different tactics, flies, etc.	Boon Ma   New pond for 10-15 kilo barramundi Another fish hooked The average four-kilo specimen This one spit it out 40 degrees and tough fish - water and shade, please!
April 15
Back in Turangi - Business as usual The Tongariro river has changed over the past few years. Rainbow trout used to begin their spawning run in April. Their runs have fallen back several months, and nobody seems to know why. Well, I still encountered some exciting fish on the river, but I concentrated most of my fishing to the lakes. Both Lake Rotoaira and Lake Otamangakau produced beautiful fish. As I had not learnt enough about fishing for kahawai, I decided to spend my last week around the Coromandel peninsula. In order to be able to avoid fishing into hard winds, I based myself in a cottage in Colville. From there I could reach some of the best spots in less than an hour, either on the west coast or the east coast. Colville is not much more than a "general store", a cafe, and a couple of houses. FDriving from Colville up to the top of the peninsula is a question of averaging 25 k/h on gravel roads hanging out over the cliffs. Kahawai seem to accumulate around stream mouths after a rain. The weather forecast predicted rain, but I am sure New Zealand's MetService would make a mess even of an "aftercast". Port Jackson is a fantastic place. A bay with a large sandy beach and rocks at either end + a stream (!). That's where I caught my biggest kahawai ever - just over 4 kg. What a fight! Wow! Pohutokawa, which I often call pohutokahawai, is New Zealand's national tree. They are abundant all over Coromandel, and when they are in full (red) blossom, the coastal gravel roads seem to lead to paradise. The surfcasters, using live bait, scored lots of trophy fish, especially large snapper. I was very popular as I gave them small kahawai for bait. One guy caught seven different species at Stony Bay one night. One was an enormous eel and another was something that looked like the crossing of a shark and a ray. Kingfish have to be 75 centimeters long to be legal. I did not see or catch any. Snapper also take a fly. They seem to come in close to the beach or the rocks at dusk and you can fish for them long after dark. They are bottom feeders so you want them in shallow water, but you still seem to need a sinking line. Writing this report at Auckland airport in the face of an uncertain trip home. I have seen volcanoes almost every day here, but they have kept quiet. Lake Taupo is actually a crater and there was a major eruption some years ago, and some people blame the shortage of smelt on that. Come with me next year. Then it is time for South Island	Kiwi style - "wading wet" Another Lake Rotoaira beauty A small Coromandel stream mouth. The kahawai will be there Waiting for the kahawai under a Pohutokawa Port Jackson A Port Jackson kahawai It took too long to land this one! A monster snapper That's all for now folks!
March 22
After Cape Palliser we spent a couple of days in Wellington, not a big city but bustling and with interesting architecture and a super national museum - Te Papa. Wellington is growing rapidly, spreading all around its large natural harbour. Brown trout from the Big O Back in Turangi, we needed (!) fresh fish so I settled for Lake Otamangakau (The Big O). Fished more than an hour before dark without a touch. As it had got really dark, I put on my favourite rabbit (also know as the stickleback or sticklespawn). I approached a shallow part of the lake with overhanging branches. I had seen a nice rainbow there earlier, but it had paid no attention to my nymphs. The fly found the spot I was aiming for and I retrieved it slowly. Nothing happened. I prepared for another cast even further in under the trees. As I lifted the line, there was a gentle pull. Yes, a fish had taken the fly. I raised the rod decisively and the fish moved slowly out from the shore. There wasn't the usual rocket launch. A brown? Marie says: "Kiwis generally say that rainbow trout tastes a lot better than brown trout. The brown Sven brought home from Lake Otamangakau was delicious. It lasted three meals and tasted just as good the third time." Bay of Plenty We rented a bach on a hill just above the Waiotahi river mouth, some 10k north of Opotiki. Bay of Plenty has endless beaches and endless fishing opportunities. The Waiotahi does not seem to get the fantastic runs of kahawai that the Motu does, and I did not catch a sizeable fish there. One evening I caught small kahawai on almost every cast, but ... Our hosts, Michelle and Peter, took us down on the beach to demonstrate a modern Kiwi fishing method. A battery-driven torpedo is sent, with 25 baited hooks, 1,500-2,000 metres out to sea. It is left out there for up to an hour and then another battery-driven device hauls it in. We saw this kind of fishing also in Hawkes Bay, and some use kites to get their hooks out. Others rely on big (beach-casting)rods and heavy sinkers to cast their baits quite a long way out. Rich, whom we stayed with at Cape Palliser, is not a champion caster but he gets his bait out over 140 metres. Saltwater fly-fishing is still rather uncommon in New Zealand, but there is no doubt that it will increase a lot in the next few years. The Motu river mouth The Motu, some 40k south of Opotiki is renowned for its runs of kahawai. Marie and I drove down there, and sure, there were lots of fish and lots of fishermen. As we were preparing to walk the last 200m to the river mouth, two Japanese came walking back with some 15 kahawai hanging from a shoulder-to-shoulder pole! When the fish are running, the locals come down with rods and jute sacks. They don't seem to be there for the sport. They use strong lines, and when a fish has been hooked some of them place the rod over the shoulder and run far up on the bank to beach the fish. It is said that kahawai is best smoked. On another day, in another place, I was offered newly smoked kahawai, and I did like it. Kahawai don't seem to be very fussy about flies or lures. I hooked a number of fish on different flies. I seem to have had more strikes on a really fast retrieve. They are very strong and run like mad. In a place like the Motu river mouth, there are bound to be tangles, unless you lock the brake and run the fish onto the beach ... Autumn in Turangi Before Marie arrived the weather had been the coldest, rainiest, and windiest for generations. On the morning after she'd gone home we had our first frost. But as long as she was here the weather was just beautiful ... Now we want some rain to "usher" Lake Taupo fish to their spawning grounds in the Tongariro. Meanwhile I am testing a few new spots on Lake Rotoaira. Unlike The Big O, Rotoaira seems to fish well in the afternoon. I have caught fish on both nymphs, rabbits, and streaking caddis. They have all been fairly small (1-1.5 kg) fish, and I have lost two (what appeared to be) big fish in the dark. When Lee Hinkleman is not trying to blow himself up mending his gas furnace, he and I discuss the choice of flies for fussy trout. And indeed, size matters. The smaller the better! Silver beet I'm sure that if Popeye had been a Kiwi, he would have preferred silver beet to spinach. As I am concluding this report it has started raining ...	Your fish? Sorry mate, ain't seen nothing. The Big O at night - famous for its big fish. Waiotahi river mouth from our vantage point. Torpedo fishing - who's the torpedo? Peter is ready to send his hooks 1,500 meters out to sea. The result - two snapper, but one of them had already been eaten The kahawai are running at Motu river mouth! Yes, this old bugger hooked several kahawai and landed this one on his little fly rod. Evening at Lake Rotoaira. Tired of eating fish? Well, silver beet stewed with cream and honey is my alternative.
March 1
Marie says: "We've eaten a lot of fish these last two weeks. We've had Tongariro trout, Cape Palliser blue cod, albacore, giant crayfish, tarakihi, and kahawai." Climbing the mountain ... Before we left for Cape Palliser, we explored some of the Tongariro Nationl Park (The New Zealand Ministry of Conservation does a wonderful job!), where you find the Whakapapa, which is one of New Zealand's finest trout rivers. We got quite close to fishing it, but on our way up the mountain someone got tired ... Cape Palliser ... Off to Cape Palliser, the southernmost point of North Island. As usual we had prepared ourselves well and found a wonderful little cottage - This'lldous - owned by professional fisherman Rick and his wife Lynn. Cape Palliser is a windy and rocky piece of coast with steep mountains with gale force winds hurling down the gullies most of the time. We did walk up along the Mangatoetoe river bed, where we actually met two guys who lived part of the year in a log cabin. Why? Hunting for dear, pigs and goats! Fishing? No, there's no fish in the stream, but the sea is close enough. Did we manage the wind and rocks? Sure, having had Rick's (Sven didn't even try to catch any of those on a fly) crayfish for dinner (with some Oyster Bay Brut, of course), Marie felt younger and more beautiful than ever. She swam with the seals and posed for the (wannabe) photographer. Kahawai ... What about the kahawai? On our walks along the beaches and the rocks, I chose a few venues to try. Casting into the wind was out of the question, but with a couple of days with northerlies I got my chance. The swell was still high and murky, but there were schools of rising kahawai just out of reach (sigh!). However, on the outgoing tide the swell decreased and the water cleared. I could see fish flashing right in the surf. So could a little blue penguin, who fished with me for two hours. I don't know what or how much she caught, but I had enough to decide that I was exhausted and had to go back to This'lldous to rest! Kahawai are extremely hard fighting fish. Playng them on a size 5 fly rod is tremendous fun, with backing swishing out and the reel emptying. They are not fussy about fly selection. Anything flashy will do, and I use small size 6 and 8 stainless and barbless Mustad hooks. Rick agrees with me that it is amazing how small lures catch big fish. A little old lady (not Marie!) caught a 38-kg shark while she was bait-fishing for blue cod in our bay. I did not do a lot of fishing during the week, and caught fish on this one occasion only. Successful fishing at Cape Palliser requires reliable connections with the weather gods or Rick and Lynn (This'lldous). Tsunami ... On the last night of our stay we were woken by Rick who announced that "a tsunami warning has been issued for the entire coast of New Zealand". We had to pack up and move to higher ground in the Ngawi village. Ngawi, some three kilometres away, is known for its "harbour and bulldozers". Wellington ... Before returning to Turangi, we spent two days in Wellington. Te Papa Museum is a muuuuuust! So is strolling around among an endless /dis/array of architectural wonders. Rest ... A week of rest in Turangi, then we're off to Opotiki on the coast of Bay of Plenty next Wednesday 10 March. The Motu river mouth is supposed to .....	10 and out - scouting for trout on the Whakapapa. Flat out once again. Bush walks can be tiresome. Cape Palliser giant crayfish. Fishing, no thanks! Sitting on an old whale bone, why not? Posing as a mermaid, why not? Kahawai? Where are they? They're in the surf, stupid! That's what a fat kahawai looks like. Yes, Sven caught it!
February 19
Marie wrote to our daughters: "We've eaten a lot of sweet corn this week." What a wonderful week at Haumoana, just south of Napier, Hawkes Bay! But how bloody frustrating - not a single fish. Please choose among these possible excuses: The water was murky after all the rain The water was too clear The water was too cold The water was too warm Sven's flies were too small Sven's flies were too big Sven could not cast far enough into the wind Marie doesn't eat kahawai (she prefers shellfish) We're going down to Cape Palliser next week. Hope to get back on the kahawai (sigh!) Yet, this was another wonderful week! Just look at the pictures. Paua (a kind of abalone) are farmed near Haumoana, and this is THE wine district, so ... Paua have beautiful shells, which are used by many artists. We brought home a kauri bowl with paua inlays last year. But as far as eating goes, I think I prefer NZ green-lipped mussels at one twentieth of the price. The Tukituki river was terribly murky down by the mouth and the wind made it very difficult to fish there. I wasn't the only one who had a few blank days. Even the gannets had to go elsewhere to get their daily ration (see below). There are a number of rivers that flow into Hawkes Bay, with the Mohaka as the number one venue for wilderness fishing. We crossed the Mohaka on our way from Taupo to Napier but it was raining so hard we couldn't even get out of the car.  On one of our outings we drove along the Tukituki to Hastings. The views are terrific! Cape Kidnappers is home to seven thousand gannets. As soon as they can fly, they take off for Australia where they spend two to three years learning to fish and find a partner for life. Then they return to Cape kidnappers to raise their own young. A gannet is a large bird and a very efficient fisher. Diving from 30 meters at a speed of 140 km/hour, they go down as deep as eight metres and catch the fish on their way back to the surface. The waters around Cape Kidnappers look very exciting indeed, but it is an 11-k walk, unless you join the tractor pack or have your own buggy. Back in Tourangi it is business as usual. Marie says: "The trout goes down very well with any kind of wine actually. Why don't you go fishing, Sven." You'll hear from me after Cape Palliser	Where are the kahawai? Paua and a bottle of Lindauer on the beach The Tukituki runs through gentle hills Efficient fishers! Cape Kidnappers A guided gannet tour
February 3
Marie has arrived and approved of the taste of the Tongariro rainbow. It went down very well with a bottle of sparkling Oyster Bay wine. Fish everywhere There seem to be more resident fish than ever in the Tongariro. One possible explanation is that there is less smelt in Lake Taupo so some fish decide they are better off eating insects up the river. Many fish don't seem to have recovered completely after spawning and stay on in the river. A young Swede, Johan Mellberg from Åre, fished with me in one of the lower Tongariro pools the other day. A three-kilo brownie was his first catch on a two-month fishing tour of New Zealand. Cicadas There seems to be too few cicadas to make an impact on the fishing. Some people report catches on cicadas, but I haven't tried yet. I'll give it a go. Caddis Various caddis flies have been hatching quite reliably and the Streaking Caddis and Lee's Slow Water Caddis (somewhat like Europea 12) have accounted for 100% of my dry fly catches. The Big O produces lots of big fish! They are almost impossible to come to terms with during the day, and in the dark I still keep increasing my leader breaking strength. A three-kilo fish is a real handful! The Whakapapa The Whakapapa river was one of the 2008 Fly-fishing World Championship venues. I can only dream about the upper reaches, as I have only fished the lower. Beautiful semi-wilderness and gin-clear water. I caught a brownie in the middle of the afternoon, which I consider one of my real trophies. As I was fishing one of the lower pools, two real cowboys rode their horses straight across the river. I had problems wading as the bottom was very rocky. If horses fished they'd be super waders! Johan, whom I mentioned above, is now exploring the upper reaches of the Whakapapa. Like many other young and strong fishers, he is prepared to walk for hours in order to explore the real wilderness and the best pools. Choice of fly size Why is it so difficult to accept that trout often prefer small flies? The brownie (around three kilos) I caught on the Whakapapa took a size 16 caddis emerger, and on the Big O a size 16 March Brown nymph has scored more than once. In one pool (where Johan fished with me), part of which is a very fast current under some overhanging trees, I usually cast a size 16 or 18 emerger slightly downstream and let it drift less than two metres. How those fish have time to see, identify, and decide to take such a small fast-floating fly is incredible. Tight lines Avoid tight lines when you're dead-drifting a nymph or a dry fly. I still don't like strike indicators! My next update will be from the sea. Kahawai!	There's fish everywhere! There's fish everywhere! There's fish everywhere! I can't see any fish! They're not up the trees, dear! I never saw one jump like that! In the puddle? Gin clear water! The Whakapapa wilderness
January 10
Whereas Christmas didn't see too many people around Turangi, the New Year certainly did. The locals stayed away from the river and the tourists lined up on the banks. Why they insist on "wading wet", I just can't make out. Already Isaac Walton, I think (?), wrote that when your legs get blue it is OK, but when they turn black you should retire to your fireplace. Here is a little pun on the subject of men getting too cold: Does wading wet produce junk male? I retreated to Lake Rotoaira, where I had several wonderful evenings fishing into the dark. Using my head-lamp, I could see the shining eyes of hundreds of crayfish milling around among the rocks. Had my chosen spot to myself except for one night when two Kiwis had chosen to camp and fish there. Like most other New Zealanders they shared their experiences and favourite spots. One of them showed me a giant plastic fly in the shape of a crayfish. I'll stick to my rabbit shreds as they seem to do the trick in the dark over rocky bottoms. Hatching caddis-flies have continued to produce substantial rises in some of the Tongariro pools. I have experimented with different flies. It seems that as long as the fly is close to the surface, whether a dry fly or an emerger, they'll take it. But a weighted emerger that sinks more then 30 cm below the surface seems to go unnoticed. There are still no signs of cicadas. Last year they were unusually plentiful. The fish seem to love them, and they (people, not the fish) say that during a "cicada year" the average weight increases considerably. Here is my recipe for marinated fish (Swedish style - gravad fisk): Make two nice filets, leaving the (well cleaned) skin on but all the bones removed. Mix sugar, salt, pepper, and dill. Rub it in and then baste regularly until the fish is ready to eat after 48-72 hours, depending on size. Can you tell the difference between a rainbow and brown trout? Well, don't be too sure. They may both be silver all over, as I experienced one night at Whareroa river mouth. I caught a beautiful silver in the dark. I decided it was for the pan so I kept it. Starting to clean the fish, I noticed that it had quite large spots on the back and and none on the tail. A silver brown! Rainbow trout have small spots and they have spots all over the tail. Browns never have spots on their tails. Rumour has it that hatches have now started up in Lake Otamangakau (The Big O), my favourite night venue. Lennart Bergqvist's Streaking Caddis. Wow!	Rotoaira beauty
December 28
I have had a number of rewarding discussions with lee Hinkleman of Superfly.com about the choice of fly patterns. On some occasions the old truth, "Match the Hatch", cannot be overestimated. I went down to the Bridge Pool late one evening. There was one fisherman on either side above the bridge so I chose the true left bank below the bridge. As I could see no rising fish I put on a weighted Pheasant Tail to get down deep. The young man above the bridge hooked a fish. It immediately chose to dart downstream and the young man followed suit, and they were soon fighting it out where I was (had been) standing. His little brother, around twelve I believe, came up to me and asked what fly I was using and demanded to see it. That won't catch 'em now, he said. Can I see your fly box? I produced one of my boxes. He shook his head. You want a caddis. You need a heavy "bomb" and a small caddis above it , he said.  As I was thinking about my choice of flies after their fish had been beached, a couple of fish were rising, so I chose an unweighted brown emerging caddis size 14. I hooked a nice little rainbow. The little boy came down to me: Did you catch a fish on that fly? No, I said, I am now using a surface emerger. Ah, you've noticed they're rising? As they left, the boy, carrying the fish, waved and his elder brother shouted "goo'nigh' bro'er!" One caddis - many ? I googled the form "caddises" and got 12,000 hits and someone else (American) seems to wonder: "I think I will tie up some elk hair caddis (is it caddisis or caddisi) in any case I can tie 12 of em" And what about sedges and caddises (caddis-flies)? Are they all the same thing? Are caddis flies (note the lack of a hyphen) called sedges because they like to cling to such grasses? As I was reflecting back on that little boy and his future as a fly fisherman choosing among his larva and adult caddice (yeah, 25,000 hits on Google), it was raining heavily outside my window. What a perfect night for the Whareroa stream mouth. I had an excellent night's fishing there two days ago, so .... Perfect conditions, the wind dropping, the rain easing off ... A local Kiwi and I spent four hours there without a touch. That's fishing (phishing?) One new acquaintance during the past week: Lake Rotoaira This is a private (Maori) lake with healthy stocks of beautiful fish. The lake is connected with the Big O through a canal. I fished where the canal enters the lake. The only other angler was a local man, Napa, who really displayed genuine Kiwi hospitality. He made sure I felt at home on this beautiful mountain lake about a thousand metres above sea level. The fish seem more intensely coloured, and boy are they strong!	Click image to read a great article on caddis flies! This is not a caddis. This is a damsel nymph. ecclesiology ecology economic geology ecotoxicology Egyptology embryology endocrinology enology entomology enzymology epidemiology epistemology escapology eschatology ethnology ethnomusicology ethology etymology exobiology experimental psychology Whareroa stream mouth
December 14
I moved in last Wednesday and I am still struggling to get a decent Internet connection going. Everything else is just great! The house is ideal. I have turned one of the bedrooms into a study and one into a wardrobe. Raspberries, strawberries, asparagus, herbs, peaches, and there is a lawn to be mowed. Well, mowed is not the right word. To keep it up to standards, I'll have to use my scissors. As far as fishing goes, I have started out very slowly with a few two-hour sessions. The other night I tried a new pool right in the middle of Turangi. It's known as Lonely Pool. You have to wade across and then walk below an enormous 20-meter high bluff. There was a good evening rise and I caught and lost a number of fish on small nymphs. I hadn't brought any dry flies. They would have yielded even more fish. However, all the fish were in very poor condition. The river seems to be full of recovering fish (besor), so to find fish for the pan I shall have to go to one of the lakes. But as there was a strong wind blowing I went back to Lonely Pool last night armed with a selection of dry flies. "Rackelhanen" matched the hatch so today I am eating fish. I actually caught several small fresh fish. They were just over the 40 cm limit.
November
Just waiting .... Got a bit of practice at Strömhult on November 2. The usual lot of guys caught the usual lot of fish. Robert has got a new home page. Let's see if he can keep it updated (?) www.stromhult.com	Want your fish cooked?