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Posts Tagged ‘Joe Creane’

Seatrout, The Craic and 29 blank free days for Joe Creane…

December 13th, 2013 3 comments

Firstly, To those of you who look forward to my ramblings, sorry this report has taken so long! Life is pretty full right now and my Dad was over for a month. Between fishing with Dad, work and life in general, I simply have not had time to write. I’m just home from a 12 hour work day so this is not the greatest time either! However, I’ll make a start while I feel fresh!

Fishing with Dad was great, as it always is. When he’s in NZ he fishes every day either with me or alone. Weather may put a damper on things from time to time, but it has never been the cause of a day off the water. Never. Fair weather fishermen we are not!

We took on lots of different types of water from small streams to massive rivers, lakes to sea, river mouths to farm ponds, boat and bank. For me, The beauty of  NZ fly-fishing is in it’s diversity. It’s not all about fishing to a sighted fish with a dry or nymph in a river. There are infinitely more options for an adventurous, curious angler in NZ.

One of the highlights was the West Coast. I almost decided against it because it was raining the day we left, but the forecast was good for the days to follow. I took a chance. It was a little stressful being in charge of where we fished and when! On arrival the rain continued to pour down and the rivers were high and coffee like. I thought I had made a bad choice.. We went to a river mouth and within 20 minutes I had a seatrout on the beach which went just over 8lbs. I had the Di7 on with a Mr Glister and a white streamer behind it. The spectacular, fin perfect fish ate the Glister. Thanks once again, Chris Dore! For the rest of the day the fishing was good. Lots of insanely strong Kahawai about and a good few trout. The weather was perfect for the next 2 days, light winds, blue skies and falling, clearing rivers. The fishing was the way it often is in the surf and at river mouths, there were chaotic spells with long quiet periods. The chaos was worth waiting for! Dad loved it.. Kahawai on fly on the magical West Coast was one of the highlights of his fly-fishing life to date. Also in 3 days the sandflies only bit him 3 times! Miraculous.. They preferred my blood.

We took on some rivers with small numbers of big fish. In Dad’s early NZ days, he’d have preferred quantity over quality, but not any more. I went through the same learning curve. It’s about experience which leads to confidence. With confidence, big fish rivers will no longer intimidate, only excite. A big, wild, solitary brown is better than 100 recovering, early season rainbows.

On one of these big fish days, after a long 1.5 hour hike over steep terrain I was feeling a little nervous. We saw no fish on the way downstream. If I was alone, I would not mind, but I’m a guide for dad in effect! I’m making the calls so I want them to work out, even though he insists he does not mind whether he catches or not. Soon after starting, to my relief, a fish appeared. I saw him deep in the eye of a pool then he vanished. I was confident he didn’t spook, he just moved. Dad got into position in the pool while I examined the water from a good vantage point. Then I saw him, barely visible against a black rock bluff. He moved up, then back down, happily feeding. I advised dad to have a cast at the ready for the next time re rose up in the water. The fish moved up in the water, dad sent in his double nymph arsenal which landed perfectly 10 feet upstream of the fish. As they passed him I called strike at the sight of an unnatural twitch and the fish was on. The fish fought hard; the battle went for a few pools down river before I managed to net him. 7lbs. One of a number of really good fish for dad on this trip. The pressure was off me! We had a fantastic day with 2 more good browns. At the end of the day we were back at the car. That’s the reward for walking downstream and fishing back.

While staying in Te Anau, my good friend Guy came up from Invercargill to fish with Dad and I for a couple of days. The weather was not so good at the time and the forecast was bad. Guy put his boat into a local river anyway and we were rewarded with a perfect blue sky day. We spent the day moving from gravel bar to gravel bar and also fishing from the boat as guy manoeuvred it to keep the caster in a good position. Not easy for Guy or the caster, but it was fun fishing and great to watch. The gravel bars were superb! Loads of fish feeding and non stop opportunities. They were not easy which made it better. The shear number of shots we had ensured we caught lots of fish. We had all the time we needed to experiment with different dries, emergers and nymphs and we got it right every so often. Or maybe probability helped, If you cover a feeding fish enough times he may finally eat, even if the fly is “wrong”. We kept some fish for that nights dinner. Guy and I made fish fingers!

No trip to Te Anau is complete without a visit to the Redcliff Bar and Restaurant. We had 6 visits. The restaurant was recently voted 3rd in NZ and 8th in the South Pacific by Tripadvisor. We ate there twice and you can take my word for it, it’s a well deserved accolade.

On one of the nights in the bar, the craic was good and pints were flowing. I was chatting to a fella at the bar about the state of NZ rivers. The conversation was mostly positive but then didymo came up.. Shortly after that he said “that fuckin’ liposuction is an awful curse too” I thought he was joking, but when I looked at him about to laugh I realised he wasn’t. I held a straight face and agreed. He meant lagarosiphon.

Enjoy the pics!

Stuntman Ronan..

 

Where is the core?

July 31st, 2013 No comments

I think if I lived in any other part of the western world with incredible fly-fishing on my doorstep, there would be a core group of hardcore anglers who simply live to fish. Here in the the southern lakes region of NZ there are not many. There are guides who love their game but fish only a few days in winter, and in summer have little time to fish themselves, some keen anglers have other priorities such as family and skiing in the winter months, some just talk about it but rarely actually fish hard at all, I don’t see many young people getting into the game; these people should be the back bone of the sport but they are few and far between. The clubs seem to lack youth, though not due to lack of trying, and this is a shame. I find it hard to believe that in a place like this I don’t know a single person who fishes as much as I do. (If Jeff was here that would not be true!!) Imagine as a skier or snowboarder having every mountain to yourself every time you go out. That’s pretty much how it is for me throughout the winter months on the lakes. It was the same last year. This is a fun, exciting sport but it needs an injection of new life and some fresh thinking…. That, or just keep it for those who are currently involved. There’s an argument for both I guess.

All that said, I’m meeting up with the Canterbury Fly Fishing Club in a few weeks for a weekend on the Central Lakes and I’m really looking forward to that. I’m excited to see their approach to the water and how it differs from mine.

Last weekend I was hoping for bigger and better things but the lake fished reasonably well. I picked up a dozen or so fish over the 2 days, the best about 2.5lbs. They were all well marked and brightly coloured and a mix of browns and rainbows. The weather was good and unseasonably warm. There are not many places in the world where you can fish in the middle of a built up area with planes taking off over you all day, jet boats whizzing passed and numerous other water users about and still catch plenty fish. This is a truly superb place for a fly-fisherman.

I put my back out badly at work on Monday so I think I’ll be out of action this weekend.

Go have a winter fish! Ronan..

This week on SLTV, Backcountry Fjordland part 2. Sean, Fraser, Paul and I take on some wilderness for a few days. We all get some sort of bug on different days but manage plenty excellent fishing. Some great footage of fish eating dries in this episode and some great Blue Duck footage too.

Take it to the limit…

July 23rd, 2013 No comments

Last weekend I took on the mass of water that is Lake Wakatipu once again. It is a massive body of water at 80ks long and averaging 230m deep, 420m at the deepest point. Like all the Southern Lakes it demands respect. That’s not to say a fella can’t enjoy tearing along a trough, and then powering up and over a crest into another trough. At the end of day one, crossing back through the rolling swells was really exciting. Looking ahead, reading the waves and planning my route based on what I could see and feel all at 50kph. I could not photograph or film it because I needed both hands on the wheel and throttle. I’m sure I was having as much fun as the folks sliding down mountains..

I had 13 fish over 2 days. Day one was pretty choppy and the conditions cut my day a bit short. Day 2 I got out earlier and finished later. I had to deal with a sloppy wave at first caused by multiple wind directions. Once I got across the lake the water was pretty peaceful and the exploring began. I basically fished the mouth of every trickle, stream and river that I found. Most produced a fish or two. Tactics were simple; a Di7 with a weighted streamer fished over the drop-off. If I didn’t hook up very quickly I’d leave again in search of another mouth. The wind was dropping all day and the temperature was rising. It was a fantastic day on the water and I made the most of it. I checked the topo map at the end of the day to see how far I roamed, about 85ks! Now I know a full tank will get me about 86ks. Good to know.

I have a different plan for next weekend. More new water. Watch this space, I think something great will be in it!

Congratulations to my Dad, Joe Creane, on winning the McConville Cup on Bilberry in Co. Mayo recently. There are not many that will worry him on an Irish lough, and that’s a fact!

Tight lines all..  Ronan..

This week on SLTV, Ep 13. Backcountry Fjordland. In this episode Chris Dore gets married (Paul and I are groomsmen), we all get drunk a few times and we catch lots of fish.. even while hung over! Seriously though, some good footage in this!

The Three 9lb+ trout…

March 19th, 2013 5 comments

It didn’t take long to convince myself to head straight to the river after work on Friday. Plan was to target some of those big fish from last week at night. After a long drive/hike/climb I made it in just before darkness fell. While the light was failing I took a few shots but everything spooked! This was totally unexpected. A week ago they were hard to spook during the day. I went up into the forest and made camp while giving the pool time to rest until true nightfall. I got a small fire going and set my sleeping bag on the forest floor. Once that was sorted I kicked back for a while and enjoyed the absolute peace with only the sound of the river. Then it was time to launch my night time attack! Unfortunately the night was so dark I simply had to shine my headlamp to get down from the steep sided forest to the bouldery river. This would not have helped my quest even though I kept it brief. The total pitch black night made it tough but I managed ample casts into the zone with no joy at all. I was happy to return to camp, drink some wine and eat some chicken from the BP, then a little more wine.  I slept soundly after that.

The next morning I thought things might be different. I fished from almost pitch black into daylight. When I could see into the pool I realised they were not in their usual spot. They were spooked. Right, time to move on.

I walked for a long time before eventually finding a pool with fish in it. Not one or 2 fish either, shitloads, and they were big! I had a dry dropper combo rigged so I started with that. I kept missing fish. Brief hookups then nothing. Finally I landed a silver hen of about 6lbs. Then more misses. After checking my rig I realised a hook was broken. Ok, start again. Forget that bad start. Re rig the way I know I should. But I was not 100% sure! I just ran out of 8lb tippet so I used 6 because I thought they were finicky.. I landed a fish on that but then broke in one. Changed again to 8lb scraps. Landed some more then lost all in a bush. Right. Straight 10lb tippet. The fish didn’t care and by now I had figured out the retrieve, depth and casting position.

Once I finally had everything right, I nailed it for a while. Eventually they got wise to everything I showed them however. This is normal. Then I launched a Mr Glister at them. The last of the big fish took it on the drop. For the day I had at least 20 fish events, probably 25. I landed 8. Five were between 4 and 6lbs and three were 9lbs plus. The best one was over 9.5lbs. No double but what an unbelievable day. If I started with the correct rig and method it’s not know the sort of day I’d have had. The thing is, I should have known exactly what to do from last weekend. Sometimes instinct is wrong! But that’s ok, that’s fishing and I’m learning. Some of the break off’s made no sense though. I even had 10lb tippet smashed! Maybe I’m not realising fully the sheer power of these fish. Now that I’m writing this I realise it! After almost every fish I had to change my fly because it was bent out. It takes lots of pressure to bend a Kamasan B175. Also the tippet had to be changed almost every time because it was scratched and frayed. These fish run with insane power, they bore under rocks, and whatever else they can, To land these fish you need to be almost as quick as they are to keep the strain on them, and keep the strain from the right direction. I realise fully that It was an amazing day, the best big fish day I’ve ever had but I cant help feeling that I should have done a bit better. I guess I always feel that way!

That day on the water was last Saturday. Sunday was my 22 year fly-fishing anniversary and St Patricks day. My first day was with Dad and Granddad all those years ago. Maybe my grandfather, Paddy, gave my some help on Saturday! Who knows… Here’s to him anyway! And Dad of course who is well and truly alive!! He’s planning his next trip to NZ.

Ronan..

Below the pics is this weeks episode from SLTV, “Camo Guy and the 9lb trout”  How apt!

ps. WordPress changed a bit, now you have to click a picture 4 times to view it full size as opposed to once before. What a dumb change.

In this episode Paul’s slightly competitive nature shines through, Hence the title of this blog! :DAlso you’ll meet Camo Guy. Guy has been a great friend to Paul and I over the years!

Saturday March 2nd, Anti Fish-Farm March in Eyre Square Galway @ 12.00 noon…

February 22nd, 2013 No comments

I was born into fly-fishing. Fly-fishing was the centre of  my my fathers life, my grandfathers and my great grandfathers. As soon as I was old enough to cast a fly I joined the family tradition and not because I was forced into it, I simply knew I had to. It was for me. I remember my dad and my grandad heading off in the evenings to target seatrout on the Ballynahinch, Inagh and Cashel systems. I remember bags of fish on their return. I remember Declan Ridge calling to the house on Summer evenings before he and dad would take on some stretch of river or lake less than an hour from home. Declan always had a Dairymilk or two for me and my siblings. I remember the craic and banter in the pubs after competitions, I remember listening in to dad’s and his friends conversations about fly-fishing for seatrout and it’s intricacies. Sometimes I’d try to add something just to be part of it. I remember the decline. In the space of a few seasons there were no fish. No more Declan or his Dairymilks, no more conversations till the wee hours to inspire a 10 year old, no more seatrout.

Thankfully in the last few years seatout and salmon numbers have increased a little on some systems. The future is potentially bright but there are plans afoot to massively increase the number of salmon cages around Ireland (In a sentence, salmon farming is the reason for the virtual extinction of seatrout in Ireland). When will Ireland recognise the value of it’s wild waters and migratory fish? I don’t know.. I do know we must do something to save it. This is about as much as I can do from NZ. To my readers living in Ireland, why not make an effort to go and march in Galway on Saturday March the 2nd starting in Eyre Square at 12.00 midday. The following groups and clubs will be there amongst others and you hopefully..

NARA National Anglers Representative Association
TAFI Trout Anglers Federation of Ireland
SAVE BANTRYBAY
Salmon Watch Ireland. (formerly Stop Salmon drift nets Now)                                                              FISSTA Federation of Irish Salmon & Seatrout Anglers
Tuam Anglers Ass.
Cregmore/Athenry Anglers Ass.
St. Colman’s Anglers Ass.
Milltown Anglers Ass.
Corofin Anglers Ass.
Galway City Salmon Anglers
NSFAS No Salmon Farms at Sea

THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Ronan..

Dad and I in 1980. Seatrout are no longer present where these fish were caught due to salmon farming… Without salmon farms they would return in time. Lets fight to give them a chance!

 

The New York Times. Fish Stories, Told With a Brogue….

October 3rd, 2012 No comments

I just dug up this article from The New York Times written about me 13 years ago. Go google!

 

By Barbara Lloyd
Published: November 28, 1999

 

A book by the fire at the Lough Inagh Lodge looked ever more enticing than sitting in a boat on a chilly day as the mist outside turned a darker gray. But who among us could resist those fly rods standing so nobly in the back hallway of this County Galway fishing lodge?

”Have you ever fly-fished before?” asked Ronan Creane, the lodge’s guide. ”Yes,” we replied in unison, as couples do. ”But not a lot.” My husband, Dick Baker, had once cast in the river waters of Oregon and Wyoming, and I had dropped lines from the deep Alpine grasses of northwest Montana. But this was a mountain lake on the west coast of Ireland, and we soon found ourselves getting in a boat.

It was a 19-foot skiff, a narrow wooden hull that looked like the Rangely guide boats of woodland Maine. One pull of the six-horsepower Yamaha, and we were heading against a freshening breeze along the four-mile lake. Our cache of wet flies — a bibio, a black pennell and a few daddy longlegs — filled an arsenal meant to lure sea trout, brown trout and Atlantic salmon.

The Western Regional Fisheries Board for the Connemara region has reported a decline in sea trout here the last few years. But it is still a popular fishing destination. The Irish Tourist Board estimates that more than 6,000 North Americans fished Ireland’s coastal waters for sea trout last year. During our late September day of fishing on Lough Inagh, we were the only boat out.

Our guide, a disarmingly self-assured 21-year-old, left no doubt that we would catch something. Creane had just beaten his father, Joe, an international competitor, in a local fishing derby the day before. How he did it was a tale of perseverance that fired up our determination.

Creane, you see, had selected a secluded spot along a nearby lake and waited for the contest to begin. The rules prohibited fishing from a boat as we were allowed to do on Lough Inagh. From the shore instead, our young guide had mounted a daylong fishing vigil. But in the excitement of competition, he had forgotten his rain gear.

Rather than go back to shore for his jacket, Creane kept casting. As his clothes got wetter, he got colder. So he began disrobing; doesn’t everyone? He removed his clothing piece by piece. Then he spread his sodden shirt, pants and underclothing on adjacent bushes, hoping they would dry as the rain began to abate.

No one else was around, which was part of his plan. He was sure he had picked the choicest fishing hole, and was not about to leave it. Not even when it meant fishing in the buff.

At the end of the day, Creane, fully clothed once again, delivered almost nine pounds of fish, a sizeable catch that put him in second place in the competition. The winner’s total weighed only three more ounces than Creane’s. Better yet, our young guide had beaten his father, who finished in third place.

We latched onto the story eagerly as we began our day of fishing. Creane had turned off the boat’s engine, and we were drifting down the lake with an oar put out to the side as a rudder. But in less than an hour, dozens of thwarted casts revealed our rookie inadequacies against the fitful breeze. Try as we might, our lines got tangled like used kite string. We hooked everything on the boat but each other, and that was going to be next.

Creane, undoubtedly fearful of being hooked himself, suggested a change of pace. We would troll down the lake with the engine running. Had we been self-respecting fly-fishers, we would have nixed the idea. But we were desperate.

Within minutes, I had the first strike. It was a salmon, albeit a tiny salmon that looked more despondent than I had been. The next catch proved to be a heartier sea trout. Measuring about one pound, it came into the boat with a little kick, not unlike the cutthroat trout I remembered landing several years ago in Montana. We threw my Irish fish back as part of the lake’s catch-and-release policy.

It was a whole lot harder to throw back the next one — a two-and-a-quarter-pound brown trout that Creane said was easily the third largest brown caught on the lake all season. Since we were there in late September, and the fishing year had started in February, I felt a bit smug. But I was not alone. Creane was beside himself with enthusiasm.

”It’s a lovely fish,” he said excitedly. ”To catch a brown that size, the chances are very slim. The biggest fish here this season was 3.2 pounds. Will you send me the photo?”

An hour later, Dick landed a brown that was quite nearly the same size. I could swear it was the same fish. Either way, they were big fish for Lough Inagh, and beautiful. On the way back to shore, I thought I noticed a wistful look on Creane’s face.

”I’m very jealous that I didn’t catch one of those fish,” he said.

I was touched. ”I’ll send you the pictures,” I promised

 

 

 

Tailing & midging in the depths of an Otago Winter…

July 17th, 2012 No comments

Mike Wilkinson and I spent the day on one of our local waters on Sunday. I went to the right and Mike to the left so for the most productive part of the day we didn’t see each other at all. This often happens when flyfishing and in a way you have the best of both worlds when it does. One the one hand, you fish alone at your own pace taking as much time as you want with each challenge and opportunity the day brings, while on the other hand you know you will catch up with your fishing partner later in the day to compare notes and have the craic.

There were quite a few fish moving on Sunday probably due to the unseasonably mild conditions. Some were rising but most were tailing with their heads buried so deep in the weeds that getting them to see my fly was a real challenge. The wolley bugger inspired a few chases and one landed fish but “figure of eighting” a couple of Joe Creane’s nymphs accounted for more hook ups but still only one more landed fish.

Fish have been midging on the calm evenings. I had a look after work today but it was too windy. I finish work at 5 and its dark at 6 so my fishing window is tight! However the days are getting longer and the lake is close by.

Any calm evening over the next few days I’ll be on the water into twilight…

Ronan.. Stuntman/Joiner (CI/Fishing host by appointment!)

 

 

Flie’s for Art!

May 27th, 2012 No comments

After enjoying some of Will Shaw’s art on his Sexyloops front pages a notion occurred to me. Maybe I could swap some flies for a piece of his work! I sent Will an email to run the idea by him and the wheels were in motion. I got to work and so did he. I tied a range of flies inspired by what I’ve learned both in Ireland and in NZ and loosely based on the type of fishing Will is doing at the moment. Will chose a photo of a Tasmanian brown from one of my blogs to work his magic on. Its a fantastic piece of art and one I’ll always treasure. Hopefully it’s a reasonably fair swap but I think I may have got the better end of the deal! My Dad, Joe Creane, will also tie a few so that should even things up a bit. Thanks Will! Tight lines with these..

Ronan..

Surfing Browns, Huckleberry Finn & 30 Blank Free Days for Joe Creane…

December 16th, 2011 No comments

After 5 internet free weeks travelling around the South Island with my Dad, I’m back.. Dad flies out today after 30 blank free days on river and lake. The fishing was great because we worked hard for it. New Zealand fishing rewards an angler for effort as much as having the fundamentals correct. Our day’s together were simple. We got up at 7 or 8 and had a quick breakfast. One of us (usually Dad) would make us a sandwich each for lunch. After 8-10 hours on the water we would return to our accommodation and one of us (usually Dad, but this was less one sided than the sandwich making!) would cook dinner. A few beers and then bed.

We changed the format of this trip a little. In the past we would spend a lot of time driving to many different waters. This time we tried to find good locations within easy striking distance of good water and stay put for a while. Mossburn for example, A great location but the holiday park was pretty average at best. I like basic but the cold concrete floor, uncomfortable old school chairs,tiny flickering  tv and a door that sounded worse that a cat being stepped on every time it was opened and closed eventually broke me down. The fishing was great though. Dad had his personal best brown not too far away. He was almost 8lbs. We had about 50 big browns that week.

Another place we spent some time was at Buscot Station Backpackers 9ks North of Omarama. This is one of the best Backpackers I have stayed in anywhere. Tony owns the place and Kev helps out. After a long day on one of many nearby rivers or lakes we would come “home” to Buscot. Dinner was never a problem in the well equipped kitchen. Steak, veg and roast potatoes every night, usually with a bottle of wine and, if we were lucky, Tony playing the Piano. The beds were comfortable and the rooms spotless. We had freshly laid eggs for breakfast every day. Take my advise and stay here! You will not want to leave..

Back to fishing talk.. Still water fishing has been teaching me lots lately. I have been successfully using many methods and developing new ones. Let me elaborate! All the usual methods have been working so I wont bore you with those but one of the new things for me is fishing at close quarters to the fish using spiders. Suddenly for no apparent reason I knew spiders would be deadly even though i never really used them before. I fished them around lake edges instead of my usual #16 unweighted nymph suspended under a dry. Now I had no dry as an indicator so I was watching the fish more closely than ever, sometimes striking only because the fish was in roughly the right place, or it changed direction and slowed down, or stopped, or something obvious like i could see it’s mouth open and close. Then I started to notice mannerisms like one kick of the tail to approach the fly usually ended in a take, Slow constant swimming movements were less sure and sometimes ended in a refusal. This close quarter fishing was fascinating and I wanted to get closer and thus the “Huckleberry Finn” method was born. In my head Huckleberry Finn is an adventurer with rough clothes and a cloth tied at 4 corners draped over a stick to carry his belongings. Sometimes he sits beside a lake under a tree with a bit of string tied to the stick trying to catch a fish. That’s what I found myself doing to get closer than ever to the fish! I used the willows which line many lake edges as cover. This heavy cover makes casting Impossible but it makes it easy to get very close to the fish. Once in position unhitch the fly, reel in until 2 or 3 foot of tippet is under the rod tip and then put the fly right in front of the fish or in his beat and wait for fireworks. The direction of the strike has be considered before the take to avoid smashing your rod off a willow limb. I learned lots from this method and on one great morning I had 11 on the HF while dad also had 11 while blind wolley buggering!

That same day another type of close quarter fishing presented itself to us. With 11 fish each and the wind getting up to about a force 6 we decided to go somewhere more sheltered. I was just about to put the rod in the car when I noticed a fish feeding in the swash of a breaking wave right beside me. I unhitched the fly and slammed it down beside him and he nailed it.. We walked on and realised this was not a once off. There were lots of fish doing this and we started catching them. We finished up with 18 each for the day on 3 completely different methods!

I have seen these “surfers” before but never to this extent, Partly because I didn’t look no doubt. I needed more and luckily this wind got up from the same direction every afternoon and the fish were there on cue. A lot of the fish were on the thin side and very opportunist but there were plenty cracking fish to keep us interested. On the days when the waves were not too big, dries provided great sport. Nymphs and spiders worked equally well but were not as much fun. On one insanely intense afternoon when the wind turned into a gale and one could dam near bodyboard on the swells breaking ashore, the fish were still there being pounded by the waves feeding away. No skinny fish though, All good ones with occasional Rainbows coming in from the back from time to time. It was unreal to see where the browns were effortlessly feeding. We could only see them every so often through the white water breaking onto shingle and large rocks. The fish were hard to spook and casts were short and aggressive into the gale with large weighted flies. The fish just needed to be able to get the fly into its mouth before the wave whipped it away.

I have never heard anybody talk about my Huckleberry Finn method or Surfing Browns so I’m learning those methods from scratch. I reckon the HF would be lethal for willow grubbers!

If you get a chance fish with your Father, Son, Mother, daughter whatever.. It’s Important!

Stuntman Ronan..

By the way, I filmed the HF method in action but my piece of shit laptop can barely play it let alone edit it. If there is a philanthropist flyfisherman among you please sponsor me a mac. It’s never easy being self sponsored!

 

The Journey Continues…

November 17th, 2011 No comments

It’s hard to find the time to write this now that full on fishing has commenced. I’m wrecked after a very tough gorge.. ready for bed wrecked and tomorrow will be all go once again. Dad arrived on Tuesday and we fished yesterday and today. Yesterday was on an easy river with lots of 2-3lb rainbows and browns. A good place to get the NZ fundamentals sharpened up. Dad did that successfully. Today was more like a military training exercise through a gorge. There was a lot more water in it than 5 weeks ago and that made it seriously hard going. Scrambling through dense bush, deep crossings and rock climbing was the order of the day. As the day progressed more emphases was put on getting out of the gorge than fishing and some opportunities were missed as a result. We had a couple hard earned fish.

Chris Dore, Greg Milo Elliot and myself spent a day chasing rainbows and browns. I did no good but the lads had a couple each. I lost a very big brown on a streamer and Chris missed a big fella on a dry… Twice!

I met up with Camo Guy a few days ago as planned. We fished on one of my favourite waters. Guy fished for half the day a took pictures for the other half, unfortunately I don’t have his photo’s! I do have my own though. I had a spectacular day! I made very few mistakes and caught lots of big fish.

I picked up John O Malley’s Nissan Terrano from Mossburn and drove it to Fairlie to meet Dad on Tuesday.  There seems to be a problem with fuel consumption. 400ks cost 130nzd. I might have solved the problem simply by putting the correct air pressure in the tires! I’ll know for sure when I take it for another decent drive in 5 weeks..

Kevin Alexander and Myself took our boat “Daltona” out for a spin last night. She is still going like a rocket and a pleasure to fish from.

Dad and I are going to fish a lake tomorrow before heading to Buscot Backpackers tomorrow night. Guy will be there too. We may drink some wine and eat crackers with fancy blue cheese.

Ronan.. (stuntman)