Fly fishing on New Zealand's South Island
- The Trout Bandit
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
Updated: 21 hours ago
Fishing for big brown trout in the Motueka River Valley
Fly fishing for trout in New Zealand has been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember. Based on what I had read and heard, as a destination New Zealand is incomparable. Zane Grey let the horse out of the barn with his endorsement of the country in 1926 as a “fisherman’s paradise” in Tales of the Angler’s Eldorado. Since then, other authors have piled on accolades to highlight the prolific trout fishing, including Derek Grzelewski, who proclaims New Zealand to be unsurpassed as a trout fishing destination in his book, The Trout Diaries.
I recently leveraged a teaching assignment in Hong Kong to spend a couple of weeks fly fishing for trout in New Zealand, which began with a week at a lodge near Nelson in the northwest area of the South Island within the Motueka River Valley. The Motueka River, referred to by locals as 'the Mot' is bad ass brown trout territory. I would characterize 'the Mot' as lean and mean, which means the fish population is sparse and the approach needs to be technical. These conditions made for a very interesting fly-fishing experience.
Starting with the ‘lean’, there is a reason why sight fishing is the recommended approach on waters of the South Island, and particularly on the ‘Mot’. Many rivers I have fished in North America have trout populations ranging from 500 to 4,000 fish per mile. By comparison, there are a handful of trout per mile on the ‘Mot’. So, it makes very little sense to identify fishy-looking water and ‘blindly’ work that water. Instead, one must scout for the brown trout, and it takes a trained eye to locate them.
The ‘mean’ aspect relates to the very challenging approach to locating and casting to these brown trout. An intense level of stealth is the practice on these waters, which means agonizingly slow and noiseless movement (i.e. hushed voices, limited wading and absolutely no kicking of rocks – nearly impossible on an predominately rocky shoreline). We did not point, always kept the rod tip down and practiced limited back casts. It was frankly very tiring keeping a low profile while scouting our prey.
Once my guide spotted a fish, he spent the better part of the next 5 – 10 minutes trying to get my eye trained on that fish, which exasperated him to no end. Once I was “pretty sure” I was able to identify the exact spot where the fish was, we spent several minutes observing the feeding pattern of this fish – which mostly fell to the guide as I was not entirely sure if I was picking up the correct profile those first few days. On this basis a fly was chosen (usually a nymph or large terrestrial – or both), and I was not allowed to waste any time sizing up the casting distance, lest the fish get wise to our presence. So, my first presentation was half the distance to the fish, followed by a second cast, hopefully in the feeding lane just above the fish.
Over the first few days, to say this technique was challenging would be a monumental understatement. To begin with I was not allowed a wading stick or cleated boots in order to keep the approach silent. I was also casting a 20 ft, 3x leader, for which I have no previous experience – I generally work with 9 ft, 5x leaders. The water during the first few days was high and stained, and the sky overcast. So, I was tentative regarding the precise location of the fish. The best conditions for fishing the ‘Mot’ involve clear water and blue skies, which I also am generally averse to – bluebird skies and gin clear water are not friendly to me on my home waters. This was an entirely new and challenging experience for me.
The challenge was made more difficult by a guide that approached each daily expedition as a high-stakes, special ops mission with a rookie recruit in tow. His demanding, often harsh guidance started to wear on me by the second or third day. And, while I appreciate that discipline rewards the angler fishing these waters, by day four I had to remind him that I did not sign up for boot camp but instead was on holiday looking to enjoy the experience.
Things got a bit more amicable after that, especially when I hooked up and landed an 8-pound trout (which he called his 'nemesis') that none of his other clients had been successful in catching. I was also putting a reasonable number of very large fish in the net compared to the other lodge clients and that pleased him to no end - this guide clearly was in a competition with his fellow guides.
Ultimately, I had seven days of fishing to persevere and solve the ‘Mot’ and its canny brown trout. Despite a less-than-ideal demeanor, my guide was an excellent tactician and knew the water well. When the Motueka water conditions were not in our favor, he took us to tributaries with better chances to sight fish for brown trout. When the principal rivers of the Motueka and Wangapeka were clear, he knew exactly where to find the fish. But it surprised me that he was reluctant to share intel with the other lodge guides at the end of the day.
Clearly, my guide was very proprietorial of these waters, and while he may have a right to be, he appeared unaware of the fact that anyone can find this information in published books and online. Even Fish & Game New Zealand publishes an Access Guide to the Motueka Catchment area. Having that said, if you plan to fish the ‘Mot’ I would not recommend going it alone. Even author Derek Grzelewski, a former New Zealand trout fishing guide, laments that “the Motueka (is) a tough place to fish” in his book, The Trout Diaries. Based on my experience, it would be best to approach these waters with a professional guide, respond well to the challenge and keep expectations reasonable.
Tight lines!