Ronan's Report

The season is winding down now with only a few more days booked in. I like this time of the season where I can step back and relax a little. Today I’ve spent some time at the tying desk trying to finalise a few more patterns for Fulling Mill. I’m almost there so hopefully I’ll have a few new patterns in next seasons catalog. Thinking about the season thats been; it was an amazing one for big fish. The best yet I’d say – and the cream of the crop are all in this blog. I like to see one elusive double figure fish each season. I usually do but not always. This season there were 3. They all have a great story.

Steve’s 12lber. Chris, Nick and myself were looking after Joe, Will and Steve for a week. We swapped around the guide / angler combo each day. It was an epic week of adventurous, full-on fishing. Lots of fun with a super crew. On the last day Steve and I were together. We arrived at the river at a respectable time but it was very busy with anglers on all the accesses. We killed time for a few hours fishing unproductive water and then went in behind another angler. He was a few hours ahead of us at this stage. We took our time as we moved up river. I just wanted to find one feeding fish. We found 2. The first wasn’t doing much but we persisted for about an hour. Steve made a few great shots to that fish but no joy. We continued slowly until another opportunity arose. A fish was cruising up and down a cut bank. It was generally hard to see him so we took a safe position well back to get a good read on his beat. He was cruising up and down about 50m of bank. On the first approach we went in my green cicada. Once the fish turned at the bottom of his beat we followed. Our approach was ultra cautious because he was hard to see – we were waiting on a rise to give his position away. The rise came – it was well up the beat so we chased, running up the bank with quiet footfalls. The fish was travelling up much faster than we initially thought. He came into view and slowed down at a choke point. This was our chance. Steve made a good shot and the fish came to the fly but rejected. “Reset” I said. We went back to the start, changed to the tussock cicada and tried again. We waited. The fish rose at the bottom of his beat and we could see him briefly as he turned to travel back up. Once again we chased quietly. Once again he slowed at the same choke point and Steve made another good shot. The fish came to the fly – put his nose on it – and rejected. This time he turned and quickly swam down river looking for us (they do that). We both tucked and rolled quietly away from the bank hoping he didn’t see us. We went back to the start again – reset. I was worried that he was spooked – he was certainly onto us. We waited. No sign. Eventually I decided we should move up a little. There he was, still rising on the upper part of his beat. This time we went in armed with Mcphails blowfly. We followed the fish as he approached the choke point. When he slowed down Steve put in another good shot and the fish swung out and confidently ate the blowfly. A well timed strike and it was all on. The fish was heavy and used his weight and power to bulldoze under the high bank. The rod tip was under water keeping the fish under control and away from the undercut. After a pretty stressful fight I got the net under the fish well downstream of where Steve hooked it. Relief, excitement, exhilaration. This was teamwork and we both played our parts. The tactics were right, the casts were good. A pursuit of happiness that neither of us will forget.

Marcus’s 12lber. By 5pm on day 2 we still didn’t have a fish in the net. On day one on this river system the conditions were terrible. Glaring light from white clouds. We could rarely see well and didn’t get any proper shots. Marcus did hook one on the blind but the leader broke somewhere in the middle of a 3x section. We have no idea why. We do know it was a big fish. Day 2 was crazy. So many things happened that I don’t think I can remember them in the correct order. Without going into too much detail I’ll give you a quick rundown of the day..

We broke in a very big fish early on through some really awful luck. We saw him. An incredibly fat lump of copper. That one hurt. Marcus was almost in tears. He tried to explain to me what he was feeling, “it’s called emotion, Marcus” I said. We laughed. We had multiple eats which just didn’t connect, then a loss – not all big but some were certainly top end. It got to the point that it felt like there was a higher power just saying “no, not today fellas”. We had landed a fish over 10lbs on the first day of the trip so we figured the fishing gods had decided that was enough for us – which we understood. We continued regardless. Then we had a fella fly his drone over to us and chase the trout we were fishing for around the pool. A karearea made a half attempt of attacking it. I wish he succeeded! The drone pilots camp was about a kilometre away. I roared politely to ask him to take his drone off the river. Thankfully he did although the damage was done. We got to the end of the beat by about 4pm. No fish. We walked back to the pool where we had most action. Fish were rising again, although cautiously. They were occasionally refusing real cicadas. We worked our way through the opportunities and hooked and landed 3 from 3. Truely incredible fish. 8.5, 9.5 and 12. All in about 45 minutes and all on my Highcountry Green Cicada. The condition of the first two fish was absolutely magnificent. I totally lost my shit with my Mcleans weigh net trying to weigh the second fish because all the increments wore off. Each time I’d try to count the increments the fish would jiggle as I got near the end – its was extra frustrating because it was so near the 10lb mark and I couldn’t tell if it was over it or under it. The quality of those nets is pretty crap these days. Must get a digital scale. Anyway, back to the fishing – had we landed even one fish during the day we would not have gone back to that pool. I think the fishing gods admired our persistence and paid us off in style. We were absolutely blown away. Especially to catch a 12lber. Fish this size are so rare in NZ, it’s hard for me to grasp that there’s 2 in this blog. Such a rollercoaster of emotions over the 2 days with Marcus. The highs of hooking a large brown on a dry followed by the devastation of a break or a loss. These are no ordinary fish, many would be considered a fish of a lifetime for most anglers, hence the heartbreak when we lose these beauties and the thrilling highs when we succeed.

Lots more to come from this season in my next blog – more big fish too. The pics below take me up to mid March. I limit each blog to about 60 images so that it’s easy to see them all without getting too bored! Still some gaps next season if the USI don’t bring us to WW3. You can contact me on ronan@sexyloops.com or visit my website.

To see my flies over on Fulling Mill click here.

To quote Kurt Cobain, “Peace, Love, Empathy”.. Ronan..

As fly fishermen we often refer to the fishing gods. Good luck or bad, the fishing gods are there. I think for many of us its mostly in jest but with a little belief in there too. Maybe even a lot of belief. After a great moment or a great day I frequently find myself thanking something that I can’t see, usually looking up while doing it. This – or these, are the fishing gods. There would seem to be more than one as we always refer to fishing gods, plural.

On a day with Marcus earlier in the summer the fishing gods played a major role. The plan was to go after a big trout on a river we both love. I had been having a shocking run of luck on it. Constant bad days for almost 2 seasons. Everything going wrong – perfect forecasts turned to shite, beaten to it due to a flat tire, getting jumped or just generally not getting it right. For years previous to to that run of bad luck I couldn’t put a foot wrong. The fishing gods nearly always seemed to be on my side. I had a feeling that they were about to side with me (and Marcus) again.

We set off in the morning with a great forecast. Quietly confident that we’d get it right. We gave ourselves 2 days to do it so it was a big advantage to know that if things went wrong we had another chance the next day. It all started when I got overtaken by a guide (we’ll call him Jim) on approach to the dirt track. He accelerated ahead as I got stuck behind a farm truck. I wasn’t happy about this. The farm truck stayed on the main road as I peeled off onto the dirt track and put the boot down. I realised to my delight that my opponent didn’t take the shortcut – so I did. I cut him off at the top and took my rightful place in front. I knew I’d see him at the first gate anyway. When we got to the gate Marcus hopped out to open it. I drove through as did the other guide. Then the fecker tried to sneak around me! I was out of the vehicle at this stage to have a chat. When he saw me he stopped. “Ronan, I didn’t know you in your new truck” he said! We had a good laugh and then chatted about how we’d share the river. We both wanted the first beat. I was just about to let him take his first choice (since we had 2 days) but he got in before I could speak to offer a coin toss. Why not I thought. He won the toss so got his first choice. I actually prefer the other beat anyway but logistically it made a little more sense to do the lower beat first but it really didn’t matter. So meeting Jim changed the order of our days to the 2nd beat on day 1 and the 1st beat on day 2 as opposed to the other way around.

We got to the second beat and tackled up. Everything felt good. It was peaceful with nobody else around and warming up nicely. There was no rush getting started. The sun is very important for spotting and it encourages the cicadas out of the ground so we let it rise a bit before starting. Not too far up there was a very good pool which I know well. We took our time on it fishing both banks and picked up a few blind fishing. Two 3lbers and an incredibly fat 6, all on my green cicada. A really great start. As the day progressed the cicadas started to get on the water. Nothing major, just little flurries of them now and again. Marcus had a couple of opportunities both resulting in an eat but no connection. Then, in a pool I don’t generally see a fish in, we spotted a brute. Marcus got into position. I knew it was a very big fish. I could see the depth, width and length clearly in the water. There was a flurry of cicadas coming down at that time and the trout was making the most of it. Trout often cruise the pools looking for cicadas making them a little harder to intercept. This fish was on station only moving forwards and backwards a little while swinging left and right to slurp down cicadas. This gave us a great chance. A dream shot at a really big fish. First cast was dead right. Fish came over and a refused. Second cast on target – another refusal. I quickly took off the green cicada and put on a smaller tussock cicada. Cast 3 was on target and the brute lunged over to eat it just like a natural. The strike was good and fish was on. I was confident from the first sight that he was a double. During the fight I remained confident. The moment he went in the net I called it. “10 maybe 10 and a half” I said. I lifted the scale and he went straight to 10 and a bit pounds. Just over the increment. 10 is the magic number for trout fishermen and Marcus now has a magnificent double to talk about. He’s been close many times and this was something he really wanted and worked hard for so it couldn’t be more deserved. Come what may for the rest of the day or the next day, we’d achieved what we came here to do.

On day 2 we fished the first beat. We saw very few and never had a decent shot all day. We met some Fish & Game officers up there who told us they’d just spoken with a couple of anglers who were dropped off somewhere on the 2nd beat in the morning. It’s a good thing our order of beats changed or those fellas would have been in front of us and we’d never have known without a vehicle to mark their presence. Fishing behind someone on this river would be a waste of time. So this is where the fishing gods came in. Jim overtaking us in the morning lead to us getting the order of our two days just right. It simply had to be in the order we had it in, and that order was down to luck – or fishing gods! Jim told me afterwards that he had no joy on the first beat either so it really was vital to fish the second beat on day 1. So, a big thank you to the fishing gods! Whether you believe in them or not..

This brings me to March so I’ll get onto that as soon as I have a chance. If you’d like to see the flies I use on a daily basis, including everything from this report please click this link. They’re all available from Patagonia Queenstown too. Right now for the April hatches my Kiwi Dun 14 with a 16 claret nymph trailer is deadly. Best fished on 5x tippet. I’ve been getting some good reports about my streamers doing the business on Lough Mask in Ireland and my hotspot and claret nymphs are working well for stalking trout in the UK. Great to hear the positive feedback. Next season is about half full so please get in quick if you’d like to book. Visit my website or email me ronan@sexyloops.com

Tight Lines.. Ronan..