It is always interesting to watch how trout fishing can shape a career, or ruin it? Starting them young to sow the seed, etc. TRM often posts photos of young anglers learning the patience and skills necessary for fly fishing. Over the years so many have matured into fine anglers and have a valuable skill set they can enjoy for the rest of their lives.
After reading so many fishy tales on TRM blogs – an anon TRM inmate (he prefers not to be named) posted his old man’s photo story – claiming it is now safe to reveal some of his old man’s youthful secret fishing techniques, such as:
Cunning Strategy 1: The Kawhai was caught spinning, tag fishing near the mouth of the Hutt River about 1953. He could not cast far enough, so he and his fishing buddy would share the walk across the (no pedestrians allowed!) nearby bridge trailing the line and drop it into the main current, while the other kid back on shore reeled it in as it swung in the current. Then they would swap places as they only owned one rod between them. They shared a deadly technique! That way they could both claim the fish. The thrill turned into an obsession that started over 70 years ago…
Cunning Strategy 2: One of the Snapper caught in front of his family’s boat shed on Greys Road in Paremata Harbour, near Wellington, about 1958? On farmland (which is now residential housing) behind the boat shed were old concrete foundations of an American base from WW2. After the war the Yanks left a reminder of their stay – two rocky groins laced with oyster spat stretched out into the tidal harbour. Ten years later the rock oysters had grown but were still too small for harvest so they devised a cunning strategy. When the tide retreated far enough they would wade out on the mud flats to smash a few oyster shells – just enough so they were bleeding. Sure enough, after full tide, they would spot the snapper tails waving at them as they tried to suck up the oysters. They used cotton to tie on the oysters for bait. The preparation time was well spent – they couldn’t miss!
A normal day in Queen Charlotte Sounds about 1960. In those days the fishing for Blue Cod was so reliable through the Sounds, most of the other species went into crayfish pots for bait. It was too easy. Then they discovered a more addictive challenging sport, fly fishing for trout on the Tongariro River.
Back in the 1960s he and his schoolboy fishing buddy had already decided and were determined that they would retire to Turangi. They started fishing while staying in a caravan at the only motel in town, the Tongariro River Motel, in 1959 – see TRM’s photo below from that period – it was also the village shop.
Sadly, his fishing mate did not make it while the old man took 40 years to return to retire near the Tongariro River where he has lived for the last 20 years.
Cunning Strategy 3: By 1966, they graduated to poaching trout and deer up the Akatarawa River. He often tried to sneak into the water catchment area but was always caught and chased out by the resident ranger. Then some time later the Water Board called in the Territorial Army for a weekend exercise to blast a large stone that was forcing the stream to undercut the road. When the Ranger called in to check on progress he was asked if there were any trout in the river or deer in the bush. None he replied – in ten years he claimed he had never seen any. So early the next morning they sneaked out… The trout hit the bacon rind on a hand line with the first cast. More were concussed and collected by the explosion. Several deer were casually grazing like cattle.
For training purposes they were supposed to survive on Army-issued ration packs. Later on that exercise, when the 7 Batallion CO called in, he was invited for lunch. His Assault Pioneer platoon was pigging out on smoked trout and grilled venison back steaks. In later years he never let them forget it… Those were the days…
The above photo was taken on the Clinton River along the Milford Track in the 1980s. Eventually, after checking out many other trout fishing river locations, he returned to his favourite schoolboy haunts, fly fishing on the Taupo rivers, and he was hooked for life. They satisfied his hunger for a worthwhile retreat from all the city stress to relax on a beautiful river. He started at the Waitahanui and then progressed south to the TT and eventually back to the big T. But before he committed himself, just to be sure, he made several more safari-type extended explorations camping around the North and South Islands to compare and fish all the trout river locations down there. Nowhere competed with the Tongariro River.
Then, eventually, after years of reconnaissance, he took the plunge to retire early to fish all fifty famous pools on the Tongariro River – they provided the ultimate buzz. The best decision he ever made. He thought he had been sent to heaven…
Due to four replacement ankles, he could no longer run or play golf or tennis, but he could still go fishing. Just when all the other old age signs were warning him to wind down to prepare for a boring sedentary retirement, his rediscovery of the art of fly fishing turned it into the best years of his life.