Eddy, my lad, with 10lbs of Lake Taupo
lake lurking trout.
Progress was measured in short slow steps along
the sand. Body and arm movements kept to an absolute minimum.
Our Polaroid-screened eyes scanned in an arc the edge of the sand
out 90ยบ across the water.
Then we froze as a shadow moved across the sand
and hardened into a trout. The trout was moving parallel to the
shore not 2 metres from the water’s edge. Standing stock-still
we watched as the trout darted forward and surface boiled as it
snatched its prey not 6 metres away from us, along the beach.
The trout turned and meandered away along the beach,
back in the direction from where she came. Quickly we moved up
to the point where we had seen her turn, and my client cast out
the fly and let it sink. We waited, unmoving.
Then we saw the trout on its return journey. My
client twitched the fly, and again, and again. Still the trout
advanced toward us. Now the fly was only four metres from the
beach, and the fish swam under the line. The fly was twitched
again, and in the literal blink of an eye, the trout turned and
raced back to the fly and in a swirling boil took the hook.
The six weight rod – for the sixth time this
bright December morning – bent to its work as the fish bolted
for deeper water and cover. The fight was a protracted affair
but eventually a three kilo fish was gently lifted from the water,
quickly photographed and sent back on her way. For the sixth time
that morning my client shook his head in disbelief.
Disbelief? Three facts will explain the incredulity.
That morning just one week ago, at the time of writing,
we were fishing the shore of Lake Taupo less than 50 metres from the
main highway. My client, an American and die-hard dry-fly fisherman,
needed a great deal of persuasion to fish lake waters. He was
particularly reticent having spent the prior week chasing wily
browns in the crystal clear rivers and streams in the upper South
Island. The idea of stalking and casting to trout in a lake seemed
too far-fetched to be real. Add to this the fact that we were
fishing at mid-morning on a very bright sunny day with not a breath
of wind ruffling the water.
Was my client a happy chappy? I would not bet the
family fortune against the idea.
The lure of the chase – the hunt – is
what attracts many trout fishermen to the sport. Finding a trout
hovering in its lie in a clear stream or river, and then casting
to it, is the epitome of the anglers’ art. Carefully and
stealthily the angler moves along the bank, scanning the water
for a shape, a shadow or a movement that will betray the presence
of a fish, then he moves with infinite care into a casting position.
One false move and the fish will bolt. Then the cast, the wait,
and sometimes a hook-up. It is all there – the stuff from aeons
back – etched deeply into our genes from our hunting forebears.
But confining the hunt and stalk to rivers and streams
is to ignore the potential for sight fishing along lake edges.
In late Spring, through Summer and into Autumn, lake shores can
provide the opportunity for truly wonderful fishing that satisfies
all the elements of hunting and fishing.
As the sun begins to heat up the margins around
lake edges, smelt,
whitebait or cock-a-bullies move into the shallows to feed and
spawn. In other lakes Dragonfly and damsel nymphs move up from
deeper water and across the shallows. Trout follow the bait in,
feeding voraciously. These trout usually betray their presence
– initially at least – by the swirls and boils they
make as they feed close to shore. This is the first and easiest
part of the hunt, and should be conducted well back from the water
and from as high above the water as possible.
Once the general area of activity has been established,
it is good practice to pick out some easily identifiable ‘markers’
down at, or in, the water’s edge to act as guides once you
move into position along the beach.
Down on the beach stealth is absolutely essential.
Move slowly and carefully keeping arm movements to a minimum.
Stay out of the water, any movement in the water by a fisherman
will put fish down. Scan the water in an arc starting right at
the water’s edge – literally – and sweeping out
to a right angle from the beach. You should have your casting
length of line held in coils ready to make a cast. If a fish is
spotted, stand absolutely still, and try and work out its movement
pattern. Most of the fish feeding close inshore follow a fairly
regimented pattern of covering the water in their area.
Once the fish has moved away, cast out and wait.
When the fish reappears start twitching the fly back to shore.
I find that holding the rod right at the top of the grip allows
you to pull the line with a gently wrist movement hidden by the
forearm. If the fish misses the fly leave it in the water. Leave
it where it is until the fish turns back and away and try again
on its next pass.
There is however a time when this advice can be
ignored and another tactic often works. Sometimes an actively
feeding fish will be slashing at a shoal of bait. Often a cast
into the activity will result in a hook-up. But be careful the
fly line should not hit the water anywhere close to the fish.
I usually use a small fly for smelt or cock-a-bully
imitations. Something tied on a size ten or twelve hook. A couple
of these flies are shown in the drawing.
For the smelt fly run black thread from the eye
down the shank to the bend, then back to the eye. Tie in a small
clump of white marabou fibres. (Spinning the ends of the marabou
between wet thumb and forefinger helps to make tying in easier.)
Lay on and tie in a short piece of peacock herl on either side
of the marabou. Over the top of the marabou, tie in a couple of
strands of Flashabou. Just behind the eye, tie in a tiny piece
of red wool to form a ‘throat’. Whip finish heavily
to make a pronounced head and varnish. That is it.
For the cock-a-bully, run black thread from the
eye to the bend and back two thirds up the hook. Tie in a small
strip of grey rabbit, or a small clump of grey marabou. Tie in
two strands of Flashabou. By the tip tie in a black hackle and
wind forward to the eye, tie in, cut off any surplus, and whip
finish. Trim the hackle to form a solid ball.
For dragon or damsel flies I use store bought imitations,
but I buy a range of sizes. This is one case where size can matter.
Sometimes the trout can fool you. What seem to be
smelting trout are in fact not. On days when the wind is blowing
strongly from the shore and there are trees nearby, try some dry
flies – bug type dry flies. Don’t be afraid to give
the bug an occasional twitch or two.
Sight fishing to lake trout is an exciting and rewarding
part of fly-fishing but for me it has some other advantages. This
method of fishing works best on hot clear days, no early morning
starts. Secondly it means moving without waders and getting wet.
What more can you ask!
For more
info on the importance of smelt to the Taupo fishery and others
in the
central North Island of New Zealand.