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NOVICE FLY FISHING SELECTS NZ TO LEARN!
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RHONDA CALDEWEY
Sometimes it is better
not to know how difficult something is before you
try it. It was this naivete that lead my husband
Jeffrey and I to try fly fishing for the first time
while in New Zealand--despite warnings that it is
one of the toughest places in the world to catch
fish.
We started on the
South Island, staying at the Lake Rotoroa Lodge near
Nelson. With a grand lake view at the front door, a
chorus of songbirds, and dancing black swans gracing
the waters, we were able to ignore the teddy bear
and lace décor of the rooms. Brent, the lodge’s
world class host, spent time with us stargazing at
billions of lights in the sky, where there are more
shimmering than a Manhattan skyline. When was the
last time you saw a shooting star? We saw three.
I should have reserved
one of those shooting star wishes for the next day.
The weather was rainy, cloudy, windy, and the water
was murky. My attitude was this: I’m a beginner
deserving big points for just showing up. Being
tested by the worst conditions ought to bring me way
up the learning curve…right? Casting on the river
proved to be a bit different than when I practiced
it in my backyard. Even more frustrating was the
fact that when I was able to land my fly repeatedly
right on target at the head of this great big
beautiful brown trout, he didn’t bite! He must have
been dead, because he wasn’t going to move one
millimeter.
Next day we went to
Abel Tasman park, a national park set on the edge of
the Tasman Sea. Funny thing...as beautiful as it
was, I found myself thinking back to that elusive
brown trout. What kind of fish doesn’t want to eat?
Next we were off to
the Fiordlands near Queenstown in the southern end
of the island. That one-hour plane ride brought us
into country where the sun sets at 10:30 p.m., and
we watched the moon sink over the horizon moments
later. It is a magical place with fresh glacial
carvings and regal mountains that rise dramatically
up to 10,000 feet from the sea. After touring
Milford Sound I found myself nicely exhausted at the
end of the day from non-stop awe at its wonder.
Fly fishing on day two
started out with 40-50 mile per hour winds. New
Zealand appears to have more sheep than humans and I
was sure we would find them rolling along like
tumbleweeds on the road. But we didn’t. Roy, the
wirey owner of the stunning Fiordlands Lodge, was
confident we’d find a good fishing spot. We drove
for an hour, and after a very civilized break for
biscuits and tea, we trekked several miles along the
river, traversing through the rapids and over
boulders, to a sheltered riverfront where the wind
stilled and the sun shined. I listened and absorbed
Roy’s rapid-fire delivery of instructions and
technical knowledge. After getting into a zen-like,
non-thinking place, I caught my first fish!
Jeffrey, Ron and I threw our heads back, hands up
with joy, and laughed out loud like children on a
playground. What a thrill! It was a perfectly
magical day.
I’m proud to say that
on recounting my adventures back at the lodge, I
recruited several ladies to give fly fishing a
try…even in New Zealand.
Rhonda Caldewey
TRIP REPORT
Fly Fishing Adventures
888-347-4896
flyfish@napanet.net
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