New Zealand: Dreams come true - Pt I

The depression I suffered from after returning to Slovakia is now disappearing. While writing this article, I´m reading in my diary and all the memories from New Zealand are coming alive. Me and my mates - Jakub and Peter - will remember every single experience we had on the southern island until the end of our lives. After only a few days spent there, we knew we that we need come back one day.

By KURT KONRAD

The first time Peter mentioned New Zealand was on our fishing trip on the San River in Poland. He described it so colourfully I could hardly believe him. A tempting idea crossed my mind and my desire to fulfil it was increasing with each photo and video of New Zealand I saw. Finally, I called Peter and asked him: „I´m going to New Zealand. Are you coming with me?“ He hesitated: „I would love to go, but we´re building a house, you know, and... Maybe Kubo would go... “

Peter was far too important to leave behind, since he had already visited New Zealand two years earlier and knew the rivers, effective fishing techniques, flies and so on... I kept on teasing him and hoped that circumstances would allow him to go. Fortunately, everything went according to my plan and in November we booked 3 flight tickets. The hustle and bustle of looking for information about rivers, lakes and flies started. An online fishing license purchase, stocking of equipment, and the purchase of a car followed. rived at the airport in Prague. A 35 hour long journey was ahead of us. The most nervous of us was Kubo, as this was his first flight ever. However, a bottle of white wine helped overcome the stress before the takeoff. We had a stopover in Dubai and expecting the worst, we got on the plane to Australia.

Splendid mountains with glaciers shiny white glaciers atop, countless rivers, rivulets, streams and lakes were everywhere to be seen. Grasslands full of sheep, cows and horses. It was balm for the soul and a sight for sore eyes.

The flight lasted 16 hours. Soon after boarding the plane, it turned out that the most beautiful of all the stewardesses was a Slovak called Janka – so we started a seemingly endless conversation with her while she was serving us drinks and snacks over and over during the flight. Our economy class thus changed to first class, and the journey was passing unexpectedly quickly.

The last 4hour long flight from Australia to New Zealand was a piece of cake. Our baggage also arrived safe and sound and we went through the bio security smoothly. In the end we got to Christchurch. Peter, our Czech friend who lives on New Zealand welcomed us at the airport. He handed us a Land Rover, which he had bought before our arrival.

We went shopping for food supplies, camp equipment and then we set off. We left the flat surroundings of Christchurch and headed inland. We passed the first and then a few more bridges and turquoise rivers and were driving into mountainous terrain. Behind each hill, new jaw-dropping sceneries revealed themselves. The following two weeks: „Are you kidding me??? “ became my most used phrase. After that I became used to such immense beauty. In February, New Zealand was in midsummer. Splendid mountains with glaciers shiny white glaciers atop, countless rivers, rivulets, streams and lakes were everywhere to be seen. Grasslands full of sheep, cows and horses. It was balm for the soul and a sight for sore eyes.

We stopped on each bridge if it was possible, and watched the water full of hope of spotting a fish. At sunset we crossed the river on our map of interests and decided to set up a camp. After it got dark we went for a walk along the river. Because of the lack of daylight, we found it really hard to see anything below the water surface and we found no fish. We were wading through the river back to our camp, when the guys suddenly spotted a fish sipping insects on the surface. I still don´t know why, but I went to cast as the first guy. Nervously, I tied on a large cicada, and after few imprecise casts with the 6m long leader, the fish finally bit and I hooked it successfully. The fact, that it was almost dark made the fight with my first 50cm New Zealand trout even more exciting. What a nice start!

In the morning, we set off upstream and we found a few fish here and there. As we came to a large pool I saw four fish feeding on the surface and a few more in the depths. As it was Peter´s turn I navigated him and he cast his first cicada precisely to the fish rising at the edge of the pool. The fish completely ignored it, so Peter changed the cicada to a Blow fly. Cows grazing everywhere around meant a lot of excrement, which brought on a lot of flies and that led to the huge effectiveness of this pattern .The fish inhaled the fly immediately! Peter was enjoying a beautiful fight, while Kubo was trying to scoop the fish. Meanwhile I was taking photos of them.

We changed our position and while I was standing in the water Peter was shouting to me where he had seen another fish. At first I cast two meters too far and one metre to left, then one meter further and two meters to right. After a few attempts, the fish hit my dry fly and I hooked it. But – alas – the fish broke off!

I asked guys what I had done wrong, but Peter only shrugged his shoulders and informed me about another fish only a few meters upstream. This one I hooked successfully and I fully enjoyed the fight. The same scenario repeated when Jakub took his turn and he caught the third fish from the pool. The length of each fish was over 60 cm. They were beautifully coloured and full of power.

Exhausted, but happy, we returned to our camp. After having a bath in the cold river, I taught the guys how to cook pasta the way I love it - al dente. While eating, they kept on swearing, as we only had plastic forks to eat with. When we finished with the dinner, the guys started sipping on a bottle of New Zealand white wine below the wonderful constellation of The following day we woke up to the unusual sounds of local birds and we drove our Land Rover upstream. Here, the countryside was changing with each hill we passed, which I obviously commented with my usual: “Are you kidding me”? The first fish of the day I hooked on a nymph. I enjoyed the fight to the fullest and also the clear water, which allowed me to see every move of the fish. In that part of the river there were a lot of trout and we each had luck several times.

A few kilometres upstream, the river changed character as we arrived at a rocky canyon. In the beautiful pool here, the depth was about 4 metres, and the guys caught 3 gorgeous fish using dry flies. The last fish of the day I hooked in the surging main current of the river – and it hit the dry fly with reckless abandon.

The motto of the third day was clear: “Things that won’t kill you, will make you stronger”. Wading through the canyon wasn´t possible, because of the deep water and steep, rocky banks.

We had to walk through the jungle beside the river. We got up the steep, almost sheer precipice with the help of lianas and roots. One wrong step would have meant a fall into the flume below us. Tiredness, poor water intake, high air humidity and temperatures gave us a hard time. Only then I realized what an extreme situation we were in but I tried not to think about the possibility of anyone getting injured. The car was a few hours of walking away and we had no cell phone signal! Fortunately, after about an hour the canyon below us opened and we could go back to the river again.

There, we found the biggest trout we had seen so far - with a length of about 70 cm. It was on the opposite side of a large boulder. It was a hopelessly difficult position for casting, so instead I chose to get closer and approach the fish from behind the boulder. I then planned to cast the dry fly without the line backing and I hoped the fish wouldn´t see me.

Crouched behind the boulder I cast a cicada and the trout slowly lifted from the bottom towards it. Through the clear water I could see everything. I was about three meters away from the fish. It came close to the fly, but just before it was going to take it, the fish turned and sank back to the bottom. The guys started shouting: “Change the fly, change the fly!“ So I tied the Blow fly on my RioFluoroflex 18mm tippet. Unfortunately, I threw the fly over the fish, which frightened it and it ended up swimming into the depths of the main current of the river.

Peter, who was standing nearby, tried to trick it on the nymph, which he managed successfully after about 20 minutes. Until dawn, we were all lucky to catch a few more trout. The risky journey through the jungle over the canyon was worth it! I and Kubo felt like in heaven. Peter, However, tried to calm us down, because in his opinion we really had gone too far and had risked more than necessary. The last three days each of us caught 3 to 4 fish a day, which was way above average when considering the type of river we were fishing. After this wonderful experience we headed to Reefton, where we replenished our stock and outside the library we got online to let our families know we were still alive.

Right there we met a group of Swedish fishermen. We recognized one of them, whom we were friends with online - and we talked for about two hours. We really had a lot to chat about. They had planned to spend three months there, and were in the middle of their stay. Lucky guys!

We moved to a river, which was about 50 km from the nearest town. We were just looking for the right place to camp, when white smoke started to rise from beneath the bonnet. The indicator needle of the car temperature gauge was lodged in the red zone. We jumped out of the car, and as we opened the bonnet, steam and boiling water was running from it. In my mind I developed a catastrophic scenario...What would we do in this backwoods with no telephone signal??? Peter solved the problem excellently by asking: „ Are we by the river? We are! The forecast for the next few days is perfect. We can fish for 3 days and then we will solve it somehow. Ok?“ So we pushed the car away from the road and set up a camp.

The following day we got to know the river, caught a few fish, and found some beautiful places to return to after dinner. We wanted to try night fishing using mouse patterns. At sunset we set off along the gravelly road, through a few rivulets, over four fences and finally we waded through a swamp until we found our pool on a blind arm of the river. On the surface we saw little ringlets like those done by a bleak. However, during the day we had seen several trout there. Their length was about 65 cm. Those ringlets had to be done by them!

We let Kubo start fishing, because he had caught no fish that day. After a few minutes he tricked an awesome trout. I then took my 6-weight rod and tied on a mouse pattern. I was casting the line for 20 minutes, but to no effect. The last cast... I started to reel when suddenly: Splash! My mouse was under attack. Unfortunately, due to he initial shock I didn´t hook the fish. At that point I unreeled the line and cast across the creek. I speeded up the retrieve and after a few casts the fish bit again. Once again I blew it! And when the guys heard my loud swearing, they ran closer to find out what I was up to. Suddenly I got the third bite! But yet again the fly was spit!

The following day we decided to explore smaller tributaries of that river. The fish we found were truly nice, but we couldn´t persuade them into biting. Everything that had worked before was worthless there. The strong wind made the situation even worse and our casts were, despite all efforts, inaccurate. In the evening I could hear a fish splashing on the surface. In the shallow water, I spotted a large fish at the edge of the stream. I admired its massive 70cm-long body and offered it a stonefly nymph. A few moments later the fish inhaled it. Its pulling power was unbelievable. It started swimming against the strong current, so I began running after it for tens of metres. Meanwhile, the sun was setting beautifully and I imagined how I would take photos of it. Suddenly, the fish ruined my plans and unhooked itself. I was out of luck!

It was time to change the place. We poured some water into a radiator and we prayed for it to take us to the nearest town. The exciting journey came to its end on a car park in front of a motel. Smoke and bad smell started to rise from beneath the bonnet anew.