Fly-fishing for trout in China

I am currently on a full-time teaching assignment in Hong Kong for an entire year which has been a big change from my regular routine of working intermittently with more flexibility to go fly-fishing for trout.  In Hong Kong, I have found that it is not easy to identify opportunities for fly fishing, much less for trout.  In fact, finding salmonid species in this rather large country of China is not an easy task.  But it can be done!

Fly-fishing for trout on the Mengtun River near Chengdu

Through a Google search I found a blog by a New Zealander who posted about fly-fishing for iwana (white-spotted char) with a guide (@bfochengdu on IG) on the Mengtun River outside the city of Chengdu. So, I considered this a challenge consistent with my penchant for a great fishing adventure.  As readers of my blog will know, the more adventurous the better.  And this trip to the mountains outside of Chengdu was as much adventure as I could ask for!

It was a 3-hour flight from Hong Kong to Chengdu and then another 1 ½ hours by taxi to a hotel in a neighborhood that was a convenient pickup point for the guide.  That was followed by a further 3-hour drive to our fishing destination, near the Mengtun River Valley within the Ngawa Tibetan and Qiang Autonomous Prefecture, northwest of Chengdu in Sichuan Province. Imagine the suspense building as nearly 8 hours passed by from the starting point to my destination – and it was already feeling like an adventure!

Sichuan Province fly fishing for trout

My guide arranged all the details, including transport from the city to our destination, as well as the hotel and meals each day.  He also provided the gear, but I needed to source wading pants and wading boots (with felt soles), which was impossible in Hong Kong, but easier than I thought on Amazon (with free delivery to Hong Kong). The fishing experience was equally authentic and rustic in all aspects – and I will underline that as rustic in a good way. I was rarely understood by my hosts, but we communicated via translation apps and it worked just fine.

What's for breakfast? Your guess is as good as mine!

Let’s begin with the rustic.  The accommodation was casually run, and you had to beg for hot water in the shower.  Our meals were outside the hotel, hosted by a woman of apparent Tibetan heritage in a simple room with no heat.  There was no menu and no choice, but the meal would be served jovially, while my guide and I sat at a single table with two plastic stools for our seats.  It was only through translation apps that I had a vague idea of what was being served to us some of the time (Tibetan hot pot, yak sausage stew and other unresolved, mystery ingredients).

very early spring in the valley

The authentic part was the village which was our fishing destination.  The community hugged one side of the Mengtun River and comprised modest brick dwellings surrounded by small orchard plots with fruit trees sheltering a harvest of cabbages beneath them.  The valley was welcoming spring; fruit trees had begun to blossom, star magnolia trees were reaching over the narrow roadway and wild mustard greens were brightening up the occasional pasture.  Every so often you would spot a weathered couple in traditional clothing tending to their small agricultural plot with portable watering cylinders strapped to their backs.  These villagers were leading a quiet, pastoral existence.

challenging nymphing water

Fly fishing iwana (white-spotted char)

Medium to large size boulders encroach on both sides of the Mengtun River making for an arduous scramble into the water, which also harbors rocky structure where the fish hide.  This is nymphing water at its most challenging and my guide suggested a 10-foot, 6-inch, two-weight Cortland rod, with a nymphing rig, comprising the sighter/leader and a tandem of heavy flies, with a bead head bugger as the point fly, with a bead head nymph as the dropper.  With the water flowing at a reasonable clip and the fish hugging the bottom, I needed to get the fly deep into the rock crevices early in the drift.

There had been occasional rain for the few days before we arrived and the temperatures had begun dropping, reaching close to freezing overnight.  The skies threatened rain the entirety of the first day and temperatures did not reach any higher than the mid-40s, with the water being a few degrees colder.  I fished hard that first day, but struggled with the nymphing technique that generally involved very short drifts.  We managed only one fish that day – my guide hooked up on a small char with a zig zag retrieval of the streamer through a pool.

What its like to fly fish in Chengdu

When making a long trip to fish unfamiliar water, I have learned that I should spend more than one day in that destination.  A day of unproductive fishing in remote Chengdu proved this strategy to be a sound one.  I still had one more day to experience a reversal of fortune, and the next day offered more auspicious conditions – the water flow moderated, the temperatures were higher and it looked like the sun was anxious to break through the clouds.

my first white-spotted char

With reduced water flow and warmer temperatures, the guide switched out the tandem to be one bead-head nymph as the point fly and one lighter nymph as the dropper.  At a very fishing-looking pool with substantial bottom structure, this tandem proved deadly as I hooked into (and landed) my first char in China.  This was followed by numerous heavy takes that I was unable to convert on.  A bit further upstream and just before lunch, I landed a slightly larger iwana on another tandem of nymphs.  A feeling of tranquil reward was setting in as the sun was breaking out.

The mid-afternoon intermission was back at the usual rustic eatery, with a mystery dish served by the jovial hostess in traditional Tibetan dress.  I celebrated with a pint of the local beer that was de-capped with a hunting knife because no one could find the bottle opener.  I high fived my guide and felt the day was complete, even though there were a couple of hours left before we needed to head back to Chengdu for my flight.

my jovial hostess for every meal in Chengdu

After lunch, the sun was bright and high.  The water was becoming warmer and clearer, so I took to nymphing from a low-squatting position.  The fishing was becoming challenging again and for the better part of 90 minutes we saw no action.  I was not bothered, because I was content with two decent char (my first in China). We approached a meandering and deep stretch of the water with about 30 minutes before we had to pack up.  I think my readers know where this is going…..

trophy char according to my guide

Because of the clarity of the water, warming sun, and slightly breezy conditions that created a disturbance on the surface, the guide switched my tandem to a hopper/dropper with a bead head frenchy as the dropper.  After about 4 or 5 casts the dry fly disappeared and the line became taught as I lifted the rod.  A good fight ensued and a 16-inch iwana was put in the net with 15 minutes to spare before we packed up.

On the way back, I asked the guide what was the biggest fish that he had ever caught on that river.  He asked me to clarify if I was referring to the iwana, then he answered (via translation app) – “your fish”.  I responded, no, the biggest you have caught on that river, and he responded again “your fish”.  I was delighted, and he was clearly proud of “my fish” and his part in landing our trophy; indeed he deserves credit for the flies he selected and for putting me in the right spot for success. I am and have always been a huge proponent of hiring guides for unfamiliar waters and this excursion proves why.

Tight Lines.