Turangi

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If you believe all of the tourist info that you read about New Zealand, then you know that any idiot can catch fish here. What’s the next step down from idiot?

By this time, Cynthia and I were both hot to get to the South Island. I was concerned however that there was some major fundamental flaw with my fishing ability. I didn’t want to go to the South Island and be frustrated. So we decided to go to Turangi. Turangi is touted as the fly fishing capital of the world, and I had decided that I was going to spring for a professional guide to evaluate my skills, knowledge and equipment.

I set it up to meet with Warren Kay on Sunday morning at 8:30 am. The first phase was to go to the park to demonstrate my casting ability before going to the river. We got there and I set up my stuff. “Make a couple casts” he said. I did. “Your casting’s fine” he said. “Let’s go to the river”. So we went to the river.

The mighty Tongoriro River is world renowned and runs right through town. It has to be world renowned, it’s mostly owned by Americans. At least we have sucked the cream out of the Twinkie and gobbled up most of the river frontage. During the height of the British Empire, England would go to a place, occupy it and say “this is nice…it’s ours now”. We Americans take a different tack; we just buy it.

Anyway…I’m paying good money for a guide, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to just go to a river that I can walk to from the motel, so we settled on the Taupo River. All the rivers in this area are famous, and have been fished by everyone from Hemmingway to Jessica Rabbit. There are beaten paths along the banks. By beaten, I mean a foot deep in the dirt. We fished the river for a couple miles. His evaluation: there is nothing wrong with my casting or presentation, he liked my rod (I don’t really have a Sears Outdoorsman) and other than giving me some pointers on how to better mend the fly, and showing me how they rig nymphs here, all I got for my $300 and 4 hours was one sad little Rainbow.

He didn’t bother telling me that these rivers that dump into Lake Taupo are winter streams. There are no resident fish to speak of, but when they are going up the rivers to spawn in the winter….any idiot can catch fish here.

The weather in the afternoon was nicer, and since I had popped for a 1 day license Cynthia and I went out ourselves. It was fun but no fish. Cynthia was traipsing around in her bathing suit, so I flirted with her by whispering in her ear things like “My fly’s stuck on a rock. Would you go unhook it please?”

As we prepare to head for the South Island it’s good to know that I don’t suck as bad as I thought. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a river that someone dumped a truckload of thalidomide into, and all the fish are retarded.

Next stop: Wellington.

Total trip cost to date: $14,590.05 USD