Lake Alexandrina

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an extract from Catch That Trout - South Island

Location & Characteristics

Lake Alexandrina lies just to the west of its much larger sister lake, the superb Lake Tekapo, famous for a unique mineral-blue colouration. Compared to Tekapo, Alexandrina is a much more stable lake and so provides a better habitat for trout. Access is gained by turning right off SH 8, a couple of kilometres out of Tekapo village.

The road passes Mt John, easily recognisable by the domes of the observatory on top. The first access is found just before the Mt John turnoff where it is necessary to pass through a gate and follow the rough track to the south end of the lake. Shallow flats in this area provide good fishing from boats or from the shore at the change of light. There are overhanging willows that give protection for cruising brown trout that tend to appear in low light conditions.

The next access is signposted and found just before Lake McGregor, which is a much smaller lake but well worth exploring with a fly rod. It fishes best to a streamer fly at the outlet leading to Lake Tekapo and at the mouth of the inlet from Lake Alexandrina. The road passes the south side of Lake McGregor and finishes at the collection of fishing huts and caravans at the outlet of Lake Alexandrina. The water channel between the two lakes is not open for fishing. There is a network of tracks from here leading to the south end of the lake and along its eastern shores.

The final access involves heading up the road a further five kilometres before turning left at the first junction. The road appears to be heading towards the farm buildings but then swings left and passes the tractor shed on the right. The road should be followed until another collection of fishing huts is reached. The car can be left here and a short walk made to the northern end of the lake and the mouth of the inlet stream. The lake is very deep here and streamer flyfishing is the best method. To fish the shallower, western side of the lake, it is better to drive through the huts and swing left to follow a rough track down to the lake edge. A short walk brings you to the area known as ‘the Pothole’ which provides excellent fishing for the shorebound angler. Care should be taken as some of the clumps of bullrushes or raupo are in fact floating islands and can be unstable if set foot upon. Before and after ‘the Pothole’, there are plenty of stable banks adorned with willow trees to provide some cover for the stalking angler.

Because it is fed by only one small creek, Lake Alexandrina is a very stable lake and its level rarely fluctuates much. There is a good mix of shallow feeding areas and deep water that provide shelter and security. This balance results in ideal trout habitat and high trout numbers. The lake holds both rainbow and brown trout averaging 1.5 kg but with trout up to 5 kg not uncommon.

Angling Approach – Flexible Lake Fishing Tactics

Lake Alexandrina can be a very frustrating lake to fish. The first time I fished the ‘Alex’, it was on a balmy, early summer day. There was not a breath of wind in the air and unless the fish started to rise, it looked like being a tough day. But with the usual air of angler optimism, I sallied forth from the top end of the lake. Walking around the northwestern shore, I was hopeful of spotting the odd trout cruising between the willows over the shallow flats in that area. Not today, Josephine. Trout could be seen rising alright; there were those telltale concentric rings all about 75 metres offshore, which is just a touch outside of my casting range…..by about 50 metres. I looked enviously at the angler in a rowboat further down the lake, as he seemed to be surrounded by rises.

Continuing on, I came to the famous ‘Pothole’ area, where good water was to be seen not far out from the raupo clumps. Having been warned by Ian Currie, a Timaru acquaintance, about the dangers of these often-floating islands, I cautiously approached the lake edge. The water was surprisingly deep at the edge and dropped away quite sharply and it was now obvious why it was called the Pothole. It looked good trout cruising country with the depth giving a bit of security as well as coolness to feeding trout. So much for theory. I sat quietly for 30 minutes without seeing any sign of a trout, cruising or otherwise. I could see an angler fishing his way around the bay towards me. His progress was not much interrupted by hungry trout either. Soon he was traversing the hill behind me and stopping for a yarn.

‘How’s the fishing?’ he asked.
‘No joy so far,’ I replied. ‘How about you?’
‘Well, I’ve walked a long way around the lake and I’ve only seen one fish. I don’t know why but they just don’t seem to be in close so far this year.’
With nothing better to do, we spent a while yakking and it turned out that the other angler was Len Seear, a well-known entomologist from Canterbury. I had read a couple of articles by Len and knew of him from these writings. Taking advantage of the opportunity to pick his brains, I asked what the fish were taking out from the shore.

‘By the look of the rise form, I would guess they are taking midges,’ he advised. ‘You can see, even from here, that the fish are just sipping the fly. That is apparent from the small disruption to the surface that you can see. If you were close enough, you would be able to see small air bubbles bursting at the surface. These are the bubbles of gas that the pupae use to reach the surface. The midge pupa then lie suspended in the surface film on calm days like this and the trout only have to put their snouts through the surface to suck in the midge,’ Len explained.
‘Would you use something like a foam ball pupa pattern then?’ I asked.
‘Yes, they do work here but the trout are hard to fool when they are taking midges. You can see that my mate in the boat has not had any luck despite being in the middle of all those rises. It’s a lot easier fishing when the midges start hatching. Then you’ll see a more conventional ‘head and tail’ rise. The trout are less cautious then and don’t inspect a moving fly as closely as they do when it is just sitting there in the surface film.’

I knew the type of take that Len was describing for hatching insects. I had seen that on many occasions on other lakes with trout hitting the fly hard when a ‘sink and draw’ technique was used. The old favourite, the Damselfly nymph, was always a good choice when the fish were actively rising, especially with a small emerging caddis pattern as a tail fly. Of course the most spectacular take is the one when the trout are feeding on cicadas or beetles in mid summer. That is always a slashing take that gives the old heart rate a good nudge as a large brown launches itself at the struggling terrestrial. It is hard to say just which is the most enjoyable dry fly take. There is the great thrill one experiences of seeing a trout carefully and deliberately approach your dry fly trap before a little twitch of the fly convinces it to ingest the artificial. Compare this to the heart-stopping, sheer excitement of a fast-moving trout attacking a twitching terrestrial. Such is the appeal of dry fly fishing.

Len bade me goodbye and told me to say hello to his mate Dave Archer, in the dinghy. It’s great how free with their knowledge are blokes like Len. It makes you feel part of the great brotherhood of flyfishers, even if it might be a rather minor role.

Moving around the bay, I soon came to a point opposite the rowboat.
‘How’s it going?’ I called out.
‘Pretty quiet,’ he replied. ‘They are rising freely out here but I can’t get any of them to take a fly.’
‘How’s the fishing been this season?’ I asked.


‘Pretty slow, so far. I got one yesterday but nothing in three hours today. I think they must be still up the stream. It seems like they are a month behind where they normally would be. I reckon it’s that blast of cold weather that has set them back.
‘You a local, then?’
‘Well, I’ve got a crib up the top there,’ he advised.
‘Not a Hadlee by any chance?’ I asked.
‘Well, as it happens, I married one. Why do you ask that?’
‘Oh, a good mate of mine’s a Hadlee; Graham’s his name,’ I replied.
‘Good grief, I know him well. I only just managed to buy my crib before he was going to. He’s some sort of cousin of my wife or something.’

We yarned for a while about the famous Christchurch cricketing family. I told Dave that the main reason why I was at Alexandrina was that Graham had raved on for years about the lake. Noting my interest in the Hadlees, Bruce pointed out two pine trees up on the hill just behind us. (Owners of that fine book, ‘Anglers’ Paradise’, can see these trees clearly depicted in Nancy Tichbourne’s painting of the Pothole area). Dave explained that the ashes of Graham’s (and cricketing cousin Richard’s) grandparents were buried there. He pointed out a small tree just beside the twin pines and told me that was where, only two weeks ago, they had placed the ashes of his wife’s mother. She was the daughter of the original couple and a Golden Elm had been planted to mark the spot. I observed that by the time Graham and all his cousins had died and had a tree planted, there would be a veritable ‘Hadlee Forest’ covering the hill.

That brought a laugh from across the water. Dave bade goodbye and then the oars fell with a plop on the still water as he headed for the crib. I headed back too, fossicking around between the willows along the edge of the lake, still trying to spot a trout. And I did see plenty. They were still gaily sipping midges fifty metres out in the lake. I quickly worked out it was all a trout conspiracy designed to keep me frustrated the whole day. I decided not to suffer any more why they indulged in a spot of ‘angler-baiting’ and headed for the car to drive to the Tekapo River where the trout might be more cooperative.

Lake Alexandrina can be a difficult lake to fish, especially for the shorebound flyfisher. Willows line the lake as it lies in a basin surrounded by barren tussock lands. There are not a lot of casting points and it is necessary to poke between willows or clumps of raupo to get at the water. The lake does not have extensive areas of shallow shelving flats, the productive littoral zones where trout prefer to feed in lakes. The few such areas in Lake Alex get rather warm in summer, with the lake temperature approaching twenty degrees. This is too hot for brown trout so during the summer months, the larger browns retreat to the deeper and cooler waters. Smaller rainbows tend to take their place as they can tolerate the higher temperatures.

My next visit was later in summer and a chat with Ian Currie revealed that my best approach was to be there early morning with a sinking line, fishing the mouth of the inlet stream with a streamer lure. I felt there was a good chance that a trout might be enjoying the cool, food-rich inflow in the heat of summer. There was a slight feeling of revenge when a good 2 kg rainbow took the Mrs Simpson streamer fly and I hoped she had been one of those jesters that had frustrated me on my first visit. It was hard to tell from her inscrutable expression, but I did think she looked slightly remorseful as I slid her back in the water. Another rainbow of much the same size gently took the slim-bodied lure half an hour later and I nearly allowed myself to think I might be in for a good day. But that thought was the kiss of death and as the sun rose high, the fish went the other way and retreated to the depths of the lake.

I retreated too, up along the inlet stream. Scott’s Creek is very narrow and not very deep. It was easy to see how a couple of mates of mine had been tempted many years ago when they were staying at the Hadlee crib one winter. The comfortable cottage had proven an ideal overnight stay for the three keen skiers after a day on the Tekapo Ski Field. They were particularly looking forward to some roomy accommodation after a few days in their cramped campervan. As they took a wander around the village, they noticed a net immersed in the small stream. Inside the net were two plump trout. Looks were exchanged; longer looks were cast around for any onlookers; then the net was lifted onto the bank. A rock was used to administer the coup de grace and two large trout lay glistening on the grass. After the initial glee dissipated, the trout were quickly smuggled away to the fridge of the campervan to await their fate. It was decided it would be better not to contaminate the fridge of their borrowed accommodation. There was no point in the crib owners getting a whiff of what had been going on.

Discussions over a couple or three beers revealed that not only did no one know how to fillet a trout, there was zilch experience between the three on how to cook one. Someone had been on a launch on Lake Taupo and seen the skipper smoke a trout on the bow of the boat but that did not seem very helpful, given the absence of a smoker. It was decided to leave the trout, have another beer and cook up three steaks.

Early next day, the boys drove off for a day’s skiing at Mt Dobson and spent the next night at Fairlie, forsaking the van for a more comfortable motel room. It was only when stowing the gear in the back of the campervan the next morning, that the rather pungent smell emanating from the fridge was noticed. The fish had been forgotten up till this point. A quick council of war saw the difficult decision made to heave the fish over the next river bridge. The fridge was left open in the hope that the aroma of rotting fish might dissipate a bit on the journey to Christchurch. A warmish day did not help this scheme.

Four hours later, the van was returned to the rental company at the airport and the boys made a swift getaway.

Unfortunately, rental van cleaners have a very well-developed sense of smell. And rental car companies have no sense of humour. A few days later, the reckoning arrived. No refund of their bond and an invoice for additional cleaning costs – perhaps one of the earlier ‘poaching’ fines in New Zealand.

To successfully fish Alexandrina you need to make an early decision whether to fit on your floating or sinking line. Unless the trout are obviously rising, a streamer fly is usually the most productive. Because of the lack of shallow, food-producing areas, insects are not prolific outside of summer and the most common trout food is the native snail. This makes things hard for the flyfisher, as there is not many recognised fly patterns that accurately imitate the snail. The Olive nymph is perhaps the most commonly used imitation in the North Island but I am not always convinced the trout takes this fly to be a snail.

The more common fly in the south is the Black & Peacock. When this is tied with a full body, I think it is a slightly more accurate imitation but neither fly closely represents the natural snail. A more realistic pattern is one tied with coffee-coloured Globug yarn. It sounds a bit unlikely but the finished fly is very convincing. The fly is the invention of Alan Simmons and he, not surprisingly, calls it ‘The Simmons Snail’. Detailed instructions for tying the snail fly can be found on Alan’s fishnhunt website.

The fly can be lightly weighted to be fished down near where the fish are feeding on the stalks of the reeds or on the lakebed. When the fish are feeding on snails in shallow water, often their tails can be seen protruding from the lake surface, as they rummage around for snails clinging to submerged vegetation. At times you can watch the trout nudge the snails with their snout to dislodge them from the vegetation.

The snail fly can also be fished as a dry by spraying it with floatant so that it is suspended in the surface film. Often snails can be seen lying upside down, just breaking the lake surface, where they feed on plant material. A greased leader that keeps the fly in the surface film is the best way of imitating the floating snail. They are easy prey for trout when in this position and probably give anglers their best chance of catching a snail-feeding trout.

Streamer patterns can also be used to imitate the deeper-feeding snails and patterns such as Kilwell Number 1 (also called Mrs Simpson) are often given as options to use at such times. Again these slim-bodied flies are somewhat un-snail-like in appearance but they certainly work well at Alexandrina. I am not too sure why this is, given that snails do not move much, so it is not as if the trout are be fooled by movement of the fly. Such food, like bullies and freshwater crayfish (koura), can be imitated by using the movement of the fly to suggest the natural food but the slow action of a snail is a different matter. These flies are usually more successful in early morning or late at night so it may be that the trout do not see so well in such low light conditions.

Whatever the reason, snails do form a large part of the diet of the trout in Lake Alexandrina and it pays to have a few representations in your flybox whenever you visit this charming lake. Just remember that even if the fishing is hard, it is a good idea to avoid temptation and quickly pass by the nets of the inlet stream!