On an island

Many years ago, I bought a copy of Peter Morse's "Arbour to Fly" DVD, which essentially is the ultimate in 'how to' when it comes to rigging a bullet proof (or as close to as can be got) fly fishing system, with a bent towards salt fly systems.

The only real change is the incorporation in heavy leader (80lb and up) of a special leader to fly loop taught to us by Moana Kofi, the legendary Kirimati guide. I'd never sunk steel into a bigger than 4 kg GT but my tests with my #12 lifting weights and pulling things around gave me confidence in the my big rod system.

As far at the bone fish rig was concerned, I thought I had it sussed. I'll come back to 'thought' later...

As the boys and I sat in the airport lounge, I had no idea of the epic nature of what was about to unfold. We'd taken advantage of Tim's prior experiences to get the timing of our trip sorted, to book a house, to get transport from airport to where we picked up our scooters, to take care of all of the details that can cost time and cause grief if you don't know what you're doing.  So we found ourselves rigged and in early trip mode carrying way too much gear to our first afternoon's fishing. Little did I know that I was about to be schooled by large and wary bone fish.

Travelling everywhere by scooter gives you an appreciation of packing as lightly as possible and after the first couple of self-guided days we each had a system that suited the individual shaken down. Personally I'd break my #8 and #12 down, leaving fly and leader on and fly wound to the tip top then capture all 4 pieces in the reel cover and slide them into my Patagonia Stormfront. I've been toting this bag all of the NZ winter and its hard to fault, carrying the right amount of gear for a day's fishing, camera, lunch... the only thing I need is an exterior fixing point for a water bottle as carrying water inside your waterproof bag is counter-intuitive, and my bag came from new sans straps (I must take that up with Patagonia). By scooter we arrived together on the afternoon of our arrival and soon were in the water. Jase had procured us some of the excellent Vedavoo Rod Holsters which allowed the #12 to ride out of the way, while remaining super easy and fast to access. And so began my ed-education in bonefish. Wind and periodic cloud ruffled the water and spotting was extremely difficult against a broken coral backdrop, so when I saw a fish heading directly to me and was able to drop a perfect cast and get the eat I was in seventh heaven! The fish ran strongly and the Abel Super 7/8 N hummed. Tim joined me as I regained line and then the fish burst away again. On this run I felt something jolt as it the line had hit an outcrop and the fly pulled....

Soon though, Karl was into a fish and shortly landed his and our first bone of the trip.

We worked the flat hard through the afternoon for no further result, noting 2 other anglers on the flats.It was several days later that I realised that the accessible flats are worked quite heavily and this possibly explained in part the wariness of the bones.

Day 2 and we decided on a road trip. At the flat we split into pairs and then split again. The edge I worked was devoid of any fish I could cast at and the only bone I saw scampered across the flat 50m away. None of the other boys hooked up either and so we found ourselves drawn to the next flat where Karl caught himself a puffer fish... not exactly target species but still. I saw bones late in the morning but had no chances. Jase got on the board with a nice bone that ran and ran. I felt I was on my game but from memory didn't present a fly to a bone at all that day, however the day flew by and we soon were back at base comparing notes and eating goose mince spag bol. Our base had a perfect elevated view of the sunset and each day we'd retire to the deck, compare notes, prep gear and drink rum in the smoke of mosquito coils - every paradise needs a pest and the mozzies sure filled this spot in the food chain.

Commitment

Day 3 was to be our final non guided day and Jase and I headed off in one direction while the other boys decided to fish a flat involving a swim. The weather was fickle and on this day we suffered several deluges that simply were monsoon like. As we weren't carrying jackets we simply stood in the rain soaked to the bone. On the morning of this day we encountered our first large GT, a big black behemoth that swam between Jase and I as we crossed a chest deep channel. We each drew our twelve weights but he simply cruised on through. It was after a severe drenching and against a dark black cloud outlook that we retired to lick our wounds, only to find that neither of our scooters would start. I finally got mine going but Jase's was terminal, the monsoon had affected it. Luckily we were very close to where we'd hired our bikes so he was able to get a replacement easily. Post switch over and with the weather improving we drove around to find the other lads. They'd managed to access their flat ok and as we fished they continued to traverse the flat. After a while I noticed Karl with his arm up and realised he had a fish on. After a while longer, I noticed Tim with arms above his head walking down Karl's line. After much longer I noticed both oh them in chest deep water. And after 45 minutes there was much high fiving - Karl had obviously landed his fish. It proved to be an 11lb bone fish, the largest of our trip. And what an awesome fish it was, a once in a lifetime specimen.

Karl; @fishingpest. Credit: Tim Angeli

The boys got a lift over to our side of the flat and I found myself fishing with Tim while Karl and Jase headed over to fish elsewhere. Finally I broke my bonefish hoodoo with a smallish fish around 3lb. But on the board is on the board and I took it! Later I hooked and lost another freight train that reefed me.

The only bummer about the day was that Karl's new roll top Simms bag had leaked and drowned his camera. Little had I realised just how tested our gear would get. It would be further stretched...

The next 5 days we'd booked guides and boats. As we traveled through to the boat ramp to meet our hosts, we must have looked a sight with rods over shoulders or sticking out on strange angles as we convoyed past on our scooters.

Jase and I would fish with Tai and soon I was being schooled again by the bones. In the fickle light a fast accurate cast was needed and even then they'd often spook when the fly landed. Jase soon landed a bone from the edge of the flat. I hooked up and the fish ran me into coral quick as you like. By now I'd cut my leaders back to the 20lb section and was thinking 25lb was probably more apt after another freight train picked the fly up and broke me in an instant.  That afternoon we moved around to fish flat and I left Tai and Jase to it while I circumnavigated the flat. I found bones but they found me as well and I struggled for a hook up. While wandering back to the boat I noticed a dorsal and caudal fin poking from the water at the drop off. I moved closer and there was a bust up as a GT smashed bait... at that I threw my bonefish rod in the water, extracted the 12 and ran towards the fish.. he was swimming in a gutter on the flat and looked a sight... my first ever real GT shot and my knees were shaking... that I managed a good cast still stuns me, that the fish turned and charged the brush fly before damn near beaching himself with forehead out of water haunts me... that he turned away from the fly taunts me. If only I'd known then that they key to hooking GTs is to leave the fly dead in the water as they make their acceleration towards it rather than continuing to strip... the guides schooled me (repeatedly) on that later in the week. Well, I'll never forget that sight as long as I live. I retreated and retrieved my bone rod from where it had sunk in knee deep water and as Jase and Tai approached I tried to give a stammering account of what had just happened. I genuinely cant recall the rest of that day... in my mind's eye all that I could see was that huge fish charging towards me. Over rums that night the GT grew in stature from fridge door to VW beetle size...

The next day was pivotal in the context of the week. Jase and I started fishing with guide Tia on the flat we'd fished the previous morning. I got shots from the get go and dropped 2 fish, one self guided after I'd had a shot with Tia. The fish were about but spotting conditions were horrible.On returning to the boat we received word that bait had been spotted so headed over to the zone to check it out. This marked the turning point of the trip - the focus was switched from bones to GTs.

Both Jase and I were able to hook GTs that afternoon and we were both simply smoked... despite locking down the drag on the big Tibor Gulfstream my fish simply tore into the coral reef system and the 130lb fluoro leader snapped like cotton. Jase hooked up soon after and his fish threaded bommies like an expert, smashing him off.

No chance...

We continued to search but failed to locate any further GTs, but it was with excitement that we relayed the news to the other boys that night...over rums we laid out plans, built new leaders and generally built anticipation levels.

Today it rained. And rained. Jase and I jumped aboard with Rua and got going. He took us straight out to the reefs where Tim, Karl and Tia joined us with the other boat. I was up first and to my everlasting delight and relief when the pack of GTs that charged my fly, a leading fish grabbed the fly and after the hook set charged the right way! Rua was after it in a flash and after a torrid white knuckled set em up smash em down fight I got the fish on its side and Rua landed it. I whooped in delight! Tim who'd previously crossed swords with 15 odd GTs and had not landed one gave me a far off high 5 and Jase gave me the obligatory fist bump. Cloud 9!

Soon after, Jase hooked up and after a torrid fight landed a freakin horse blue-fin trevally, the likes of which I'd never seen before in terms of scale.

We fished on, both getting smoked by other GTs. On the other boat, Karl hooked up and landed his first GT under clearing skies.

Credit: Tim Angeli

Back at the ramp we compared notes on broken gear. Factory welded loops on flylines seemed to be the biggest issue (I'd blown one out as had both Karl & Tim) and makeshift repairs were the order of the day.

The commitment loop... 

Useless spaghetti....

Next day called for a change up, so Karl and I teamed up. Today Tim's dreams would come true. We found fish straight away and I was summarily dealt to. As I rerigged we watched Tim hook up and then Rua drive his boat at crazy speed into the distance. After a while Tim's hooting could be heard from 500m downwind of us - he'd landed the fish of a lifetime. After 5 trips and numerous beatings, he'd certainly paid his dues!

Credit: Angeli Media

Karl then proceeded to deal out a lesson in straight and true casting as he took down a fat GT.

After a while we anchored awaiting fish to pass us by, and Karl and I had a play around with crease flies for the bluefins that passed by regularly.

We hit no further GTs that day. Back at base Jase relaid that his brand new Tibor Signature had pretty much shat itself, locking up on 2 large fish and breaking his fly line. I lent him my Riptide but was unsure as to whether it could exert enough drag - whilst my main kingfish reel I'd certainly never sunset the drag before...

Our last day on the boats arrived and again Karl and I teamed. We found GT's on the flats and soon Karl was into it, casting to and landing a real beaut.

I hit a great fish but the ever present wind had blown my running line under my heel - my flyline snapped like cotton...

Then Karl hooked up gain and an epic fight ensued. The fish ran again and again, throwing rooster tails of spray from the line. 3 times my mate had the fish boat side, and 3 times it pulled away, finally winning its freedom...

Karl...

Rua took us over to the reef, navigating us into the seas of coral bommies. GTs cruised by at random and finally a fish came our way. My cast was accurate and the fly was hit hard. The fish boomed into the thicket of rubble - Rua (with gumboots on his feet) leaped straight out and ran down my line before pinning the fish and tucking it under his arm!

And that seemed to me, to be a very apt end to the trip.

Lessons:

• "Wind the drag all the way up, and hang the Fk on!!!"
• Factory welded line loops are not up to GTs...
• Old and reliable can be best. My 20 year old Tibor Gulfstream performed flawlessly. The same cannot be said for at least one Hatch 11 Plus and one Tibor Signature
• The Sage Salt is unlike any other lifting rod I've used. I knew this from the big mako sharks caught last year.. but stopping a GT in its tracks and lifting its hefty bulk is the real test, and one the rod passed flawlessly
• I thought I'd tied enough brush flies. I had, but only just enough...
• More casting practice needed, esp in the wind with a huge fly and 12 weight...

Roll on 2019. Same bat time, same bat place...

Fishing the local in prep for the not so local

Our Aitutaki trip is almost on us. It was close to a year ago when our mate Tim mentioned that he and Karl were heading up to the island ('almost atoll') to chase GT and bonefish. The trip was planned to coincide with a bait fish spawn that attracts the GTs -"were we interested?" Hell yeah and with that the trip planning began. To be ultra fair, Tim did the trip planning, Jase's travel agent did the tickets etc and we all began marathon fly tying missions. I tried to get mine done early by using my Xmas holiday time. The bonefish we'd need to use had to be bigger and weightier than the stuff I already had from the 2 previous CXI campaigns as we'd be fishing deeper water so needed faster sinking flies and with a much larger average size it was recommended that we tie on the ever faithful Gamakatsu Sl12.

I'm a serial offender when it comes to taking too many flies away on trips and I don't think this one will be any exception.

The holidays also blessed me with enough time to begin to work on some more local flats, figuring out the comings and goings of fish and putting together the puzzle that are flats fisheries. A long way to go on that journey yet. Of the time spent on a new flat we've twice seen the fish and twice presented flies for no eats. It will happen but first, the time needs to be spent on figuring.

Acting on a rumour (where there's smoke oftentimes there's fire) I'd made up my mind to visit a small flat that's open to deep water and ticked a couple of boxes. Jase was looking for a mission too, and with it being a national holiday we'd need to be out early to assure a car park at the ramp. I like using Castor Bay to launch but its a busy wee beach in the summer so getting in early is mandatory.  I had the boat in by 6 am when Jase came wandering down the beach and we cruised in the darkness to our kick off point. I tied a crab imitation on, I'd be using the #8 with the new Rio Flats Pro intermediate tip. I picked it up for the Aitutaki trip and last time out it seemed pretty good when we busted some kahawai feasting on anchovies and needed fast shots in front of the rapidly moving predators. We set the Minn Kota and began to explore the outcrops. The terrain was ideal, rough and rocky with a good current flow. I missed my first fish of the day as it chomped the crab but hooked up soon after and Jase was soon into fish as well. He'd tied on a chartreuse half n half clouser but the orange/red in my crab seemed to be attracting more bites so he swapped out to a new unnamed fly he'd whipped up.

Chartreuse

Orange

As the incoming tide began to flood, we moved from outcrop to outcrop and the session really heated up. Jase was knocking fish over casting into the heavy flow in the channel. I'd slowed down so raided his fly box for another of his red unmentionables and literally first cast up into a gut behind an outcrop the line came up tight. The rod bowed over and whatever I was hooked sounded and then moved rapidly towards the rocks. I tightened up (when perhaps I should have backed off) but could make no impression at all on the beast which at least stopped running. If I'd planned it right we should have driven straight over to the reef and got on top of him, but that possibility was gone when the leader broke on the rocks. The pressure through the rod had been immense and I called it for a foul hooked ray. It could have been a large snapper or even a kingi but if I had to lay a bet I'd say ray.

Another swoffer appeared in an inflatable and anchored up - this is where the joy of the Minn Kota plays out, moving silently between outcrops and GPS anchoring - it gave us a huge advantage.

On top of one rock I had a big hit and as I pulled the fish out of the reef I realised that I'd foul hooked a parore (luderick/blackfish) who was not keen to be pulled out of the kelp. After a torrid battle Jase got the net under him and he went back with a scar to show for his troubles.

We fished on and soon Jase had a big hit in the channel and had his own big battle before landing a really nice specimen snapper.

as the water increased in depth we began to lose touch with the fish, so set off to see if we could find a flats kingfish. The wind had begun to increase and now we had a breeze to contend with. The water we found was beautifully stunning and of uniform depth. Rays moved around but of Mr Kingi there was no sign as we traversed the flat. With the wind directly on the bow the waves on the way home were less of an issue than I'd thought they may be.

Home by lunch after a fine morning of local fishing. God we're lucky to have this on our doorstep.

Holiday survival

Xmas around here is neat. People abandon the city in hoards, and given that I'm not of a mind to join is such chaos I'm generally happy to hang around and carry out a few day trips. It was a brownie taken a year ago from the Tongariro that had my focus. Its twin would be welcomed for sure - if only fish were as nostalgic as anglers! I fished only 3 times over the break. To me it seems apt to write about the first and last fish taken - the book ends if you will, and let the holiday fishing pictures in between tell their own stories.

The first

Man and dog hit the road early on this morning. The drive was quiet and speedy. The Blue Pool access road has re-opened post logging operations and what was pine forest is now ugly barren and scarred landscape; ripe for rejuvenation. The cycle of life and death will continue and for sure the local quail will boom as they feast on the bugs in the cut over. Its lovely seeing those little bundles of buzz take to the air, and Layla has a penchant for them. Given that I've not hunted Cali's over the dog, she may just see them as a tasty airborne snack...

The little trout Spey rod sent out the payload again and again and I began to anticipate the thump of a fish hitting the fly as it swung down into the seam - in reality the hit came well above the slot I was aiming for. The line tightened and the fish swam with determination downstream. With no rapid charges or leaps I was pretty certain I'd snagged a brown and after a decent battle I drew the fish ashore - a beautifully spotted and highly polished bronzed brownie. The satisfaction of a job done well left me feeling on top of the world!

Trip 2...

The last

The story of the last holiday fish was different. Mentally I wasn't prepared. Physically I had in that I'd set up the boat's electrics and got it ready for a pre-dawn departure, but I was in 2 minds about whether to go or not. Somehow I was mentally arguing about going fishing or not! The time of departure (to avoid crowded launching spots) meant I'd be launching on the lowest ebb of the king tide,  ruling out my preferred launching spot at Torpedo Bay. When the alarm blared I almost rolled over and considered trying to go back to sleep, but when I'm awake I'm awake, simple as that. I had nowhere else to be, and besides it was the last day of the holidays. The launch at Castor Bay was easy despite the lowest of low tides. I traveled smooth seas in the darkness with nav lights and the glow of the fish finder telling the world that I was out there. Boat traffic was light and soon I was approaching my destination reef. With Minn Kota deployed I spent the next couple of hours mooching around the reef, casting and catching a variety of fish.

As the sun got higher in the sky and the king tide flooded in, I moved up onto the flats. I moved with the tide but it was apparent I'd got my approach wrong - The sun was ahead of me and with overcast conditions and some ripples on the water I was going about it all wrong. At the end of my traverse of the flats I turned the boat and came back, this time with an additional foot of water under the keel. The first kingi foreshadowed the sizable wake that followed. He was large... very large. The fly, a large crease fly, was engulfed on the first bloop and 200m of line was gone on the first run. I turned the boat and with the electric motor on full noise simple was unable to get close. The fish charged over a shell bank and rubbed out the fly, leaving me winding in metres of backing and then the fly line... the fly was still there on a very rubbed leader. Really I don't think I could've done anything differently. Inside I knew that my chance had come and gone. So I let my guard down a bit - so much so that the next wake was abreast of me before I noticed that, and the yellow tail-fluke creating the wake. The fish meandered to and fro as I plotted a collision course and it was a good few minutes before I was in a position to get a cast away. The fly landed in front of the fish and I blooped it. The water exploded and I hit as hard as I dared. This time I let the fish run while I sorted out my loose loops, got the fish on the reel and got after him. In 3-4 feet of water the fish ran again and again. I drove the boat ashore and played him out. A friendly passer by helped with photos.

The fish swam away strongly.

Holiday survived. And there's a moral here - its always best to get out of bed. "You snooze, you lose" is quite an apt phrase.

Far north flats boating

Its been a while since I saw Nik and Ann-Marie, a couple of close friends who are living life the way they want to with Pie Dog, their canine companion in the far north. I'd got ahead of them on my way up, and ended up waiting for them at Taipa just over the one lane bridge that must be pure hell with summer traffic using it. We drove to the Cape Karikari and pulled into their patch of turf. Ironically, it was situated directly opposite from the scene of our northern goose excursion 5 years ago and as we sat down for our evening meal the sound of goose music drifted to us as the birds came in for their evening meal. Nik and I had planned to get out and fish some skutes for snapper on Saturday morning, and with light winds forecast it seemed a good plan too. We sat down and tied up what are being called "skutes" which are essentially bucktail jigs embellished with whatever you want to tie on the jig head.

Rabbit pelt and other assorted bits and pieces were pressed into service  and we ended up with a small pile of interesting looking lures. Later we walked Pie Dog along the inner harbour beach and along the way came across what looked like snapper working the shallows - with glare on the water it was difficult to tell exactly what they were and with no fly rod in hand....

Beautiful Rangaunu Harbour

We didn't rise with the sun, rather we set off at gentleman's hours, launched the boat and headed out of the harbour entrance. It was lumpy, and flats boats are nor built for lumpy seas. We persevered and arrived at a spot that had held fish in the past couple of weeks. Nik's first cast was nailed and he soon landed a reasonable snapper. We hoped that it would continue in that vein but it was not to be and after a couple of hours of growing wind we called it and headed back into the harbour.

Our Plan B was to cast small stick baits to see if we could pull kingfish from the channels and after a while we attracted the attention of some decent kahawai which decided to attack the lures. We put a few away in the fish well for use as baits and then pulled the boat up on a bank which would flood as the incoming tide took effect. As Nik waded a shallow pan near by, an amazing encounter with a largish snapper took place, with the fish swimming in knee deep water pretty much under his rod tip. Again, no fly rod! I rigged my fly rod while Nik set a shark bait. He really wanted to nail a bronzie land based as opposed to tiring one from the boat and then bringing it ashore.I waded the sand bank seeing the odd mullet but no prey species. When I looked back to the boat, I saw Nik stagger off the poling platform and knew he was hooked up on the big gear so I ran back to the boat and grabbed my camera. He was seriously hauling on the fish and it was seriously taking line... and then the hook pulled.

Pull mate!

My turn was next and when the bronzie took 300m of line on the first run I knew it was BIG. I cranked the drag and held on. When the fish stopped I backed up and seemed to gain line, and i realised that the shark had gone through some weed and then moved back towards me. I cranked in line and the pressure came back on and I leaned on the fish fully when the braid parted like a rifle shot. With 30kg of drag from the reel to zero in an instant I was hurled backwards and ended up on my butt in the knee deep water. Hell's teeth, that thing was a beast of a fish!

By now the wind was howling and the flats seemed dead so with a decent stint under our belts we headed for home.

Sunset over the harbour

Over dinner (and goose song) we planned our Sunday assault. We'd get out of bed early and go fish the flats for the morning. The boat nosed quietly over the flats and the breeze was fairly light so I grabbed the fly rod. With the boat set over a bank leading into a channel we waited for fish to show and while discussing Greta Van Fleet I had a quick cast at what looked like a ripple but was probably nothing. Bang! The Clouser was hit and line peeled off the reel. I thought that it was a snapper at first, but after the initial run into the backing I got the fish under control and swimming back up current. As it came adjacent to the boat it began to swim strongly past and at that point the familiar tail beat of a trevelly was felt. Nik boated the trev for me and I put him on ice for sashimi later.

As with our single snapper the day before, that fish was all that showed so Nik called a new plan - to visit the mangrove belts at the head of the harbour to look for fish. We deployed the Minn Kota and with the casting platform deployed we got into hunting mode. However our efforts were in vain and after several hours of spotting mullet and rays only, we called it.

Crazy viking. 

Like riding a bicycle

This time of the year everything warms up a bit around here. And with the warmth the bugs really start to get their boogie on. Drive anywhere around the countryside in the evening and your car will be peppered with bugs and this nocturnal activity gives a hungry trout a ton of protein that he might have missed over the cooler months. This translates to daytime too. Jase and I were hoping to be able to cash in on a feeding frenzy visit to a lake, but during the week the forecast was for overcast conditions so I knew it wouldn't fire on all cylinders. But we have to fish when we can, not when we want to, so plans were laid accordingly.

Having launched we set off under greyish white low hanging cloud. We deployed the Minn Kota and began to sneak between weed beds. The spotting was difficult, any wind at all would have made the glare impossible to see through. But we persevered and Jase racked up the first fish soon after. The trolling motor soon became useless when the remote control battery gave up the ghost, which left us in a predicament of having to move around using the outboard. With everything stacked against us we still did ok. I hadn't picked up a single hand rod since maybe January but my casting was still fine - its like riding a bicycle, even if you haven't done it for awhile you can still do it, maybe not perfectly but you get in the groove.

Glare on the water, not a bluebird day at all

Brownie

We'd also packed a bunch of 'meat pies' as Jase calls them - big streamers such as Galloup's Sex Dungeon as we'd decided to drive up the feeder river and drift down casting the big stuff into the overgrown banks. Jase was first up and put in some beautiful casts working the big fly behind logs and under overhanging willows. After our experience on the Rangitaiki earlier in the year, we'd expected to arouse the interest of plenty of fish but we simply weren't moving them.

We decided to swap places and I tied on a big old olive SD. First cast and a good sized brown moved at the fly but didn't hit. My heart boomed in my chest - that fish was one tail beat from eating!! The drift continued and in a big back water I put in a decent shot to the bank and a fish hit - on the jump it revealed itself as a 'bow, not the old brownie I'd expected. The fly was a big mouthful for the medium sized 'bow - its amazing how fish will hit those streamers.

We didn't manage anything else on the streamers despite hundreds of casts so decided to head back down to the flats for another drift. Jase fooled another couple of browns, watching the cat and mouse of a fish stalking a small damsel nymph from an elevated possie is ultra cool stuff.

Scenery was outstanding

We'll be back on sunny blue sky day, when those damsels get going ad the fish are in full munch mode.

Top 10 things I learned this year about swinging flies for trout with the Spey rod

1. Trout, even those bright chrome fresh into the Tongariro river fish from Lake Taupo, WILL move up in the water column to smash a fly as long as its fished correctly. At the start of the Autumn/Winter season, I was heaving up to 12' of T-14 with weighted flies to 'get down' to the fish. Through a process of losing a shitwhack of flies, not being able to swing tail outs properly and watching and listening to better anglers than I, I came around to using T-10 and T-8 tips. I snagged less and caught more fish because I was ... wait for it... fishing more! Some fish were definitely hitting the fly in less than 2 feet of water. Go figure. All those grandad aged books that said "to catch Taupo fish you have to be on the bottom..." well, they're wrong. (Not 100% wrong, but nowhere near 100% right either).

2. Small flies on the whole out fish larger flies. The key is to get a balance of size and weight in the fly. At the start of the season I was swinging 4" steelhead flies. By the end I was swinging 2" flies with tungsten beads or cones for weight and regularly pulling multiple fish from pools. For context if I was able to get a hit or 2 from a single pool at the start of this journey I was overjoyed. That's not to say I wouldn't be now, its just an observation that by constantly honing in on your gear and making observations (don't be afraid to ask!) you can get much stronger results. The largest fish I took in Argentina ate the smallest fly I fished all week, a #14 curved hook rubber legged nymphy thing fished actively. That possibly was a hint :)

3. Might is not right. Underhand casting requires precision in setting the anchor and timing. Watch videos and practice!

4. Fish out your swing right-to-the-end. It may take a big hit when you start stripping back metres of running line in preparation for the next cast to drive this one home - fish will follow your fly to the end of the swing and pounce - and this can be right at the edge of the river in stuff all water. If you're not fishing the whole swing including some enticing small strips as your line is completely straight below you, then you're never going to know how many fish spooked off or didn't eat your fly as it was dragged away.

5. This isn't a rule so much as an observation... sad, spawned-out kelts and slabs on the whole will not chase a swung fly as vigorously as a healthy or fresh fish. I caught very few slabs compared to comrades who dead drifted nymphs and eggs. Yes I caught spawned fish but nothing like in the spawned:fresh ratio that nymphers did. Mind you I caught a hell of a lot less fish. Leading to...

6. The tug IS the drug. A jarring reel screaming hit on a swung fly is worth 100 fluffy indicator dips. You wont believe me until you find out for yourself.

7. Do different things. Last year when I knew a lot less than the very little I know now and couldn't cast worth a damn I was hitting fish with the worst possible casts that landed slack and got several metres of free drift as I tried to get the whole thing under control - fish will plain and simple hit a dead drifted swung fly. Its not a tooth clattering hit but when it all comes up tight.. well FISH ON!!!

8. Use heavy as leader. One day on the Big T I ran out of 10 & 12lb. The fish ate flies looped on with 20lb no problem at all. Ok so these are passive aggressive spawning fish biting at the fly for god only knows what reason so this probably wont translate to fishing wee wets or small streamers in your local.If you could get mono/fluro that thick through the eye of your hook. At one point in my career I used to use 6lb in the Big T on my nymphing rigs. I got spanked a lot, quite needlessly.

9. Match your heads as well as tips to the water in hand. 40 cumecs flow in the Big T is very different from 25. I found the Airflo F.I.S.T concept excellent in heavy flow but in lighter its just less effective than a full floater. This of course should seem obvious but I for one fall into the trap now and again of 'it worked last time, so it should damn well work this time...". That my friends, doesn't hold for fishing and we all know it!!!

10. Double hand fishing is stupidly addictive.Much to the detriment of my other fly fishing, I've hardly lifted a single hander this year. This will backfire for me of course when I go out for a kingi or snap soon and can't get my shit together.