Queenstown Fishing

Troutfishing around Queenstown

I get asked a lot about troutfishing spots around Queenstown. Many visitors to New Zealand get to Queenstown thanks to a conference or because their partners or family insist on visiting the Ádventure Capital' of NZ. Unfortunately, there is not a lot of fishing opportunities near Queenstown and good troutfishing is an hour's drive, or more, away. A recent trip with a couple of fishing mates emphasised this point.

The first day we climbed onto a 7m jetboat and set off down the lake. Our destination was the Lochy River on the other side of Lake Wakatipu. A 45 min journey saw us pull into a sheltered bay. We could see the mouth of the Lochy and the braided nature of the lower river. The boat crew deposited us and our gear on the shingle beach and roared off with a promise to return at 4pm. Fingers crossed!
It was a lovely warm day, not always the case in changeable November. That meant we could do without waders - a real blessing as I detest wearing even my lightweight versions.





We set off upriver, figuring to walk well away from the mouth before starting fishing. The valley was wide open in the lower reaches but looked like it narrowed further up.






The river was quite high and flowing rather quickly so there were not many obvious holding spots. We had a flick here and there but there the water was too fast flowing for fish to be resident there.

After about two hours, we reached the start of the river valley where the river was more confined and the flow was less fast.



And we started to spot trout. They were actively feeding in the shallow riffles.
The photo here shows Bill fishing to trout he has sighted feeding in the riffles.







But it was hard to cast accurately to them with a brisk wind funneling down the valley. The result was several spooked fish as these fish were rather wary, exposed as they were in just a half metre of water.
I wandered a bit further upstream and bashed my way through the streamside gorse to reach a delightful stretch of riffles. There was great water for as far as the eye could see. On went a small but bushy Hare'n'Copper and I fished up the riffle. It was not long before a feisty 1 kg rainbow intercepted my nymph. It was a lovely silver fish and gave a good account of itself.

Three more rainbows followed in quick order, two of which were sighted. There was still quite a stretch of the riffle to be fished but the boys were nowhere in sight so I figured I had better catch them up.

I found them a couple of pools up prospecting some deeper runs that looked very fishy. I suggested to Walter that it might pay for him to go up to the head of the pool and fish a less deep stretch that contained several boulders. They looked like they would give good cover to resident trout.

So it proved when a 1.5kg brown latched onto Walter's brown mayfly imitation. Basically the fly is what I call a 'furry' Pheasant Tail. Readers of Hooked on Trout will know all about - the pattern being 'leaked' in my first book.


The trout gave Walter a good battle, accepting that my Swiss mate was a bit rusty; not having been troutfishing for five years.










 But he played the trout expertly and it was soon flapping in the shallows. A quick photo, a twist of the forceps and it was back in the pool to dwell upon its adventure.

After hearty congratulations from Bill and me, Walter resumed his path through the pool. With this result:





Another trout for the 'grizzly Koala Bear'











This time a cute 1.5kg brown was beached on the shingle. Two fish in ten minutes - Walter was in fishing heaven!

Just as well, as it was time to head back downstream to meet our ride and I did not want to be late for that; could be a cold night sleeping on the beach.

I was keen to put Bill at the top of the riffle I had fished half of but he was keener to have another go at the shallow-lying trout. Unfortunately they were just as spooky and sidled off to deeper water when the line landed on the water.

We had a flick or two on the way down the river but basically the water was not conducive to holding trout. They might be there if they were running up the river in winter to spawn but not when they were recovering condition in early summer.



Back at the lake, Bill got a couple of hits as he prospected the lake edge near the mouth but nothing took.











Walter was content to do his 'beached whale' impression on the beach - guess he felt there was nothing more to prove - he could still catch trout!






The next day we headed out to Queenstown Airport. Bill was shouting his crew member, Walter, for his 3 month's free service as a deckhand on Bill's boat in Valencia during the last (and maybe last ever) America's Cup. We were heading for the Caples River above its junction with the famous Greenstone River. Readers of my second book will know the troubles I had fishing that river but hopefully the Caples would be a little kinder.

Again the weather gods were with us and it was an even better day than the one before as this time it was dead calm.



I had never been up the Caples Valley before and was hugely impressed by the beauty of our surroundings. I think it is even more stunning than the neighbouring Greenstone Valley.







I had fished the pool above the confluence with the Greenstone River but that excursion had been disturbed by incoming swimming trampers - members of the German Green Party opposed to fishing, no doubt.
The nearness of the Caples Track did pose the same threat today but it was a lot earlier in the tramping season and Teutonic greenies might be still protesting in Hamburg, with a bit of luck.


The chopper dropped us off above the first major gorge and afishing we went.










We worked our fishing way up a km or two until we encountered a second gorge. There were some huge fish feeding in the deep pools in the gorge. But they must have been lying at least 6 metres deep and were not tempted by our nymphs floating 3 metres above their snouts. I put on a couple of attractor patterns but the fish were not keen to rise to investigate those strange offerings.

I left the boys throw more sacrificial nymph offerings, deeming these would be similarly refused. I had encountered such denisons of the deep in the Wangapeka River and knew the futility of casting more than a couple of of bombs at such educated trout.

So I wandered up the bank and found a track along a plateau above the river. That was a blessing when  I was expecting a serious bit of bushbashing. The track must have been an animal track as no angler would have passed this way for six months. I was not sure if the track had been made by cattle or deer but at least I was reasonably sure it was free of bears! Just one of the delights of fishing NZ, after several animal encounters during my 6 months fishing in the States and Canada.

Thanks to the animal track, I emerged out of the bush ten minutes later and found a nice pool just above the gorge. And a nice 1.5kg rainbow that greedily intercepted my Prince Nymph. I often wonder what trout see in a Prince Nymph. Is it just that white flash that gets their attention and the slim peacock herl body whets their appetite? Who knows? Readers of Catch That Trout - North Island will recall similar reactions from North Island trout in the Tauranga Taupo River.

I had another hit just as the boys wandered down the track on the other side of the river but I was too slow on a long line take. The boys shook their heads at my reaction and nastily suggested another 'rock fish' had taken my fly. Maybe they were right - it had been a few weeks since I had been fishing. But rocks don't tug - do they?

Bill crossed over to join me on the left-hander's side and we fished up, alternating pools.


It was really special, fishing such a magic place with a couple of good mates.
As Robert Traver said:
''perhaps fishing is just an excuse to be near rivers''.
Just wish I had his way with words.










A km or two up from the stretch pictured, I fished a half pool that Bill had skipped and landed another small rainbow.







The reason why Bill had bypassed that pool soon became obvious - he has spied a lovely stretch of deeper riffles just round the corner. And when I got there, he was firmly latched onto a good trout. It gave him a good battle for ten minutes but finally succumbed and turned out to be a 2 kg rainbow - the best trout of the trip. Bill was pretty chuffed, and justifiably so. We were happy for him too as it meant honours were evenly-shared for our Queenstown fishing excursion. And there was some justice in seeing our host for the day catch the best fish.

We fished our way up a further km or two and saw quite a few more fish.
They were mostly lying quite deep and although we tempted one or two using a sinker rig, we could not induce a take. All too soon it was time to find a flat, open spot for the chopper.





It hove into view, right on time.








The pilot was triply welcome when he produced cans of cold Speights for three  very thirsty anglers.That was a pretty smart move and guaranteed to get Bill's business next time he hires a chopper. Hopefully, he will want to take along a couple of anglers who let him catch the biggest trout on such excursions!