Layla and I would meet Jase at Oruatua where we were staying. It was pretty late by the time I rolled in and Jase was already there. We got set up, put together rods, got the dog bedded in the wash house. It was very cold so I was glad of the super warm sleeping bag I'd got for my birthday. And I set the alarm too early. I was up and about at 05.00... the sun wouldn't rise for another 90 minutes... and we don't really fish the more social pools where guys line up pre-dawn to get the hot spot.
Even so, it was too dark for me to tied on a fly when I reached my spot. With dawn glimmering, the trees swayed in the cool breeze blowing from the snow capped peaks and that's the beauty of fishing the Tongariro in winter - its proper cold. Compounding the lack of light was my fingers freezing up. Not that dead still icy cold of a hoarse frost, but the severe southerly wind chill that slowly steals body heat. Only 2 days later I do remember tying up at least 2 new leaders on that first run though... twice I broke off at the leader to tip loop, my biminis breaking both times on snags. I'd put the 360 grain intermediate head on, paired with 10' of T-12. The Sage One 5110 works well when there's breeze to deal with. As the sun came up I settled into a casting rhythm. Upstream, Jase worked a seam that hold fish regulary and is often overlooked. It took about an hour to work my run properly and the hit when it came sent my pulse rocketing. It was in heavy water a few feet above a snaggy mess of drowned trees and thrashed on the surface revealing a shapely wedge tail. I coaxed the fish upstream, inch by inch. Again it raced downstream, stopping before it hit the snags and finally I managed to bring the fish to net, a beautiful chrome bright hen that splashed me on her way home. At the truck we debated where to go next and decided to head downstream to fish water that I'd last fished immediately prior to lock down.
The walk down is pretty relaxing and as the day was warming I'd ditched the puffer jacket in favour of a hoodie. We were surprised to find another angler at the first big pool, so pressed down to the next. Jas gave me the option of going in first and second cast I hooked up on a fish that dragged downstream before leaping. It was quite dark in colour but still strong and shapely, and fought gamely to the beach.
Somewhere shortly thereafter I hooked the far bank and lost a fly, or a leader or both; ultimately I bent on a scaled down pink Senyo's Slim Shady. The hit when It came ripped line and the fish charged downstream. The fight dragged on and with each run I hoped that the hook had taken hold in the gristle of the fish's mouth rather than a softer spot. Each time I brought the fish upstream it ran back down into the current and this happened time and again... finally I coaxed it into slacker water and Jase scooped out a beautiful chrome bright hen of close to 5lb. After a few shots she sped into the depths.
I continued to work down into the tail out while Jase headed downstream.
The river began to deepen as I edged along a sand bank, and at my limit I reeled in and headed off down to catch up. The run below was beautiful. I followed Jas down and he caught a couple of crackers. I was back in snag mode... hooking the far bank, trees, well anything really. I was simply rusty. The recreational release hit us just before midday, with the water rising quite fast. We exited the river and walked back to the truck. Coffee, ham and cheese roll, duck bier stick - lunch of champs. Layla sniffed around and grabbed tidbits that we threw her. At the bridge pool we pulled in. The water was murky but fishable. Jase headed into the pool proper while I moved into a back water further down. Changing out the tip to account for the shallower water I began to swing. Nothing. Nada. I went through again. Jase crossed the bridge and entered the water on the far side. Nothing doing, so it was time for a move downstream. There are a couple of bypasses that the fish take which give them gentler passage so when we'd conferred earlier we thought we'd give it a nudge where they joined with the tail out of a large holding pool. Back to the T-12 tip. I pumped off shoulder casts out (the wind had gathered strength) but found nothing in the tail out. A few yards downstream in a gutter the line shuddered and a fish thrashed the surface. Well aware of its surroundings it refused to leave the heavy water and threatened to charge down the rapid... if it did I'd be left standing and now I wished more than ever for my wading staff. I wasnt keen to enter the torrent to forced the fish into the near bank where the water was softer and eventually coaxed it up to the net. Across and up the river, a line of guys fished the 'Troll Hole' and it looked like nothing was doing up there. The water remained high but definitely fishable so I imagined that as fish ran through they'd begin to hook up.
I'd cast a few more times when again the line came tight. This fish seemed more docile and came upstream immediately. I'd taken my net out when it woke up and screamed away. Again I was faced with the delicate balance of stopping a raging fish before it made the rapids, without breaking it... the hook pulled. I worked the water again, carefully covering the bucket but that was it. Back at the truck we made the call to fish the Hydro, one of the most popular pools on the river. Three guys fished ahead of us. Greig appeared on the bank and we had a catch up before combing our way down the pool. Nothing. That was our day. Venison, Vietnamese coleslaw and spuds for dinner. Layla stretched in front of the fire. I slept like a baby.
And awoke at 5. Old habits. Dog fed. Kettle on. We'd be leaving the house this morning so post breakfast we got the gear loaded in our trucks, cleaned up the house and left in the darkness. This morning we'd swap around, I'd fish the runs that Jas had covered first yesterday and he'd cover the water I'd fished. I entered the lower of the 2 runs, and fished it so so carefully. Not even a tap. Up to the top run. Here I landed a chrome hen fish, hooked and lost another fish and had several hits that didn't hook up. Back to the lower run. Right at its tail out I briefly hooked a fish that simply let go. Moving down to the top of the run Jase had fished I'd barely entered the water when Pete appeared. We stood on the bank chatting and Jase came up. Then I wandered down to a favourite pool. Right about where I thought a fish would be, it hit. And I gained no control whatsoever. For 10 minutes we played each other, the fish never relenting. Up and down the tug of war continued...the hook pulled. I prefer to go hard in order to bank the fish in good condition for release, but maybe I was going too hard? The next fish hit and took to the air. 2 more fish took and were brought to the bank. Then Jase jumped in and snatched a fresh little chromer. On the road to the lower river we ran into Greig coming the other way - he'd fished the runs we were heading for and had one well. We parted ways and continued down. In the pool that had coughed up for me yesterday I had 4 hits and not a single hook up... they felt tentative. Hard to say why or how fish take flies at times but I couldn't connect. After a couple of hours I caught up with Pete and Jase; they both reported hits but no hookups.
At the truck coffee was brewed. Home time was the call.
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