Going right back to when famed Western writer Zane Grey wrote eloquently of the appeal of chasing the leviathan rainbows of the Tongariro using techniques and styles of fishing back in a day where fish averaged in excess of 4.5 kilo, it clearly becomes obvious the main methods employed were far closer to the techniques of the United Kingdom salmon rivers than any trout stream. Heavy water, big fish and big gear were the order of the day. Even the flies of the time were very reminiscent of the traditional salmon fly.
Words & Photos by Clark Reid
Fast forward....
1978: I’m just a kid (almost 15) and I find myself in Turangi, getting ready to fish the Tongariro myself for the very first time. The beginning of nymphing on the ‘Big River’ had just begun promoted by the likes of Keith Draper, John Parsons, Gary Kemsley and several others. I had read the articles and was ready; with my treasured Olympic Graphite/Glass 8’6” #8 fly rod I had my peach-coloured Cortland 333 Floating fly line, my peacock quill indicators, spool of maxima and a box full of heavily-weighted halfback nymphs all tied, ready for my assault. I also had a spare spool for my Olympic 440 reel all set to go, with a fast-sinking line and a wallet full of carefully-tied red setters and the like for when I had to fish the traditional downstream-and-across style.
Even just typing this brings back nostalgic memories of times past; I was excited beyond belief. I recall the first fish, a gleaming 5lb bar of sliver taken on a Red Setter in a deep gut just down from Grace’s Pool on the lower river. I was a slight kid and as such wasn’t allowed to wade too much. The river at this point ran deep and strong along the near bank and I was able to swing the fly right through the lie without getting my feet wet. I still recall the power of that fish and the deliciousness it offered, fresh from the smoker ....
In the early days the fishing was treated very akin to light salmon sport, but by the time I got my young butt to the river the gear and methodology had developed into what we, in New Zealand, called trout fishing ... albeit at the heavy end of the scale. Some anglers, even right into the ’80’s, maintained that much of the Taupo fishery and the Tongariro required 9 and 10 weight rods, something which today seems simply ludicrous, given we often chase kingfish on that gear now (though not at Taupo, obviously!).
Taupo quite rightly dominates the North Island freshwater fly-fishing scene, and as such the techniques used commonly there became accepted as standard “trout fishing techniques” - although most of those who primarily fished other regions would be aware that they weren’t. Taupo dominated people’s vision of trout fishing in the North Island and in many cases this meant they were handicapped when fishing what most would term more ‘conventional’ trout waters. Why?
As a young teenager I was about as compulsive a fly fisher as you could find: I saved up to buy books on the subject, and there was not a fishing book in the library that I had not read and re-read, to the point of almost being able to recite each one. One in particular, Fly Fishing Strategy by Doug Swisher and Carl Richards, held my attention a lot and through the pages I was able to clearly see the differences between trout fishing and steelhead fishing. It became apparent to me at a young age that what was practised at Taupo had a lot more in common with the latter.
While technically considered to be trout due to their spending their life in fresh water, the trout of Taupo more closely resemble steelhead (sea-run rainbow trout) than resident rainbows – and a large percentage of the initial stocks of rainbow trout brought to New Zealand to stock our waterways were indeed steelhead stock. In Taupo they had no access to the sea, so they have pretty much adopted the Lake as their primary residence (landlocked sea) and throughout the year run the tributary rivers on their spawning run, most concentrated during the winter and spring months. So it comes as no surprise really that our methodology for pursuing them would mimic the techniques used in the US to target the big sea-run steelhead running the rivers for the same purpose.
Anglers who did a lot of their fishing (South Islanders are a primary example, but this applies to other parts of the North Island as well) on their local streams for resident fish knew how to differentiate but those anglers who’d learned to fish Taupo and had been told it was “trout fishing” often never knew there was a difference in approach to the two types of water and fish. This often meant they used the same techniques on other waterways outside of Taupo and were not very successful - which only enhanced Taupo’s reputation as “the best fishery in the country”.
What’s my point? Well, The Taupo rivers also have quite solid resident populations, fish that do not behave as steelhead, and these are not readily targeted using steelhead techniques. For a long time this caused many anglers to believe Taupo was only a winter fishery - but those “in the know” knew that exceptional fishing for resident fish existed throughout the year if you knew how to adapt your technique to the trout’s behaviour.
In winter the most usual technique is to target fish using floating lines: long leaders and heavy bombs which drag-trailed glo-bugs to the depths where the spawning-run fish sit almost doggo at the bottom of pools, resting, on their upstream journey. Those that didn’t target them with the upstream nymph method used streamers swung deep, across and down and retrieved through the lies. There has been a resurgence in this style, with many adopting the salmon spey technique in recent years. However in summer these rivers hold fish that are behaving like resident fish - which they are - and not like spawning-run fish: holding in nice riffley runs on the edges of flows and more often than not within a metre or so of the surface. In fact some excellent dry fly fishing exists throughout the fishery from November onward right through to early April. Some of the best green beetle and cicada fishing I have had has been on the Upper Tongariro and many of the other tributaries.
For many years the evening rise on the Tongariro was not known to most anglers but these days is considered a feature of the river. The hatch is primarily Hydropsyche colonica, the most common caddis in the river, and the technique in the evening is fairly straightforward. Use a large #12 - #14 brown caddis adult - my favourite is the Elk Hair - and simply cast to any rise forms you see. If it’s not taken on the dead drift allow it to swing round in the current keeping the line taut but not speeding it up at all, and the fish will hit it hard on the swing. It can be sensational angling.
Once we get into spring I start to change my style of fishing on many of the Taupo Rivers, dropping back to #5 or 6 weight rod and lighter nymphs and dries and just wading the edges, rarely much more than shin deep; I simply approach the rivers as I would any similar stream anywhere else in the country. The Tongariro remains a favourite, but all the streams lend themselves to this style and some truly intimate angling can be had in the smaller tributaries like the Tauranga-Taupo, Hinemaiaia, Waiotaka etc.
Some of the best dry/dropper fishing can be had in this style, too. A large terrestrial style dry or one of my favourites, Randall Kaufmann’s Stimulator, combined with a #14 bead head caddis, is deadly when fished along the riffles and runs, in rarely more than a metre of water.
I recall one November me and a mate heading to the Hydro Pool on the Tongariro. The Sage “One” series of rods had just been released and I was very keen to try out my #6 weight for the first time. The river was in low flow; only one angler occupied the pool when we arrived and he was spey casting a heavy head into the deepest part of the pool. My friend Matthew rigged up as most people would ... long leader, massive bomb, #8 rod and a strike indicator that looked like a canary auditioning for the Brazilian Carnival. He had his 7mm neoprene’s on, even though it was about 16 degrees. I took note of this and though I didn’t say anything I wondered why people have such an ingrained, single-minded approach to the fishery. What he was doing would have been entirely appropriate in June, but in November, in low flow, I knew he’d be lucky to do much. And what compounded this was his deciding to drop down and fish the deep water adjacent to the confluence of the Mangawhitwhiti Stream: an awesome spot when the fish were running (a place renowned for massive browns to congregate awaiting a fresh to allow them access to the spawning beds of the smaller stream) but not a place I would have chosen to fish at this time of year.
I sat on a rock and watched him make a start, then I turned back to watch the spey guy. He engaged me in conversation and offered, unprompted, that his wasn’t the best way to fish but he’d just got his spey outfit and wanted to “give it a go”.
“Fair enough,” I thought. I contemplated rigging up a nymph rig, but it was a warm day, the untouched shallows at the top looked very inviting and the thought of throwing a Megafugly through there was too much to resist. I didn’t even bother with a dropper; just the big terrestrial, and I started to “shotgun” the riffle: mentally picking out grids in the water and working each grid methodically, before moving on to the next one. I won’t bore you with the details but in very short succession three fine fish of 3 - 5 lbs came to the net, all taken on the dryfly. I was pretty happy; I put them all back and returned to the bank to have a cigarette and await my mate’s return. He mentioned he’d seen me get a couple and enquired what on. When I showed him he thought I was pulling his leg ... that’s how ingrained the single approach to these waters is, in some people’s minds.
It’s not just the rivers that offer summer opportunity, either. Most know about Rotoaira, Otamangakau and Kuratau, to name a few, but the approaches there are usually appropriate as they fish the same as most resident lakes in the summer time and people are well versed in the techniques. These waters get a lot of pressure and hold up to it in an exemplary fashion throughout summer. But there is another opportunity many miss: from mid November to mid January every year on Lake Taupo itself, when the green manuka beetles explode in numbers and end up on the water. The dry fly fishing in the bays around the lake can be some of the very best still-water angling you will experience and as it coincides with the smelt spawning days of wandering beaches and bays on your own with a light rod, wet wading and targeting sighted fish, it makes the winter frosts and early mornings of steelhead fishing seem very far away indeed.
We lost the smelt fishing for several years and I missed it dearly but it has come back. It coincided with the decline the Taupo fishery experienced ... I have my conspiracy theory on fluctuating lake levels, silenced government departments and the future sale of Mighty River Power but those are things of the past. The smelt are back in numbers, and the smelt fishing around Kuratau and many other parts of the lake is coming back strongly. Dave Wood of First Cast Guiding told me recently his smelt fishing last summer was almost as good as he has seen it, and few know the Taupo fishery better than Dave.
I suggest you rethink Taupo as a winter fishery and try a new take on some of the places on offer. Fish with different methods to those you’ve used in the past; for me it’s the variance and availability of world class angling all year round that firmly cements Taupo in place as one of the world’s great trout/steelhead fisheries.
1978: I’m just a kid (almost 15) and I find myself in Turangi, getting ready to fish the Tongariro myself for the very first time. The beginning of nymphing on the ‘Big River’ had just begun promoted by the likes of Keith Draper, John Parsons, Gary Kemsley and several others. I had read the articles and was ready; with my treasured Olympic Graphite/Glass 8’6” #8 fly rod I had my peach-coloured Cortland 333 Floating fly line, my peacock quill indicators, spool of maxima and a box full of heavily-weighted halfback nymphs all tied, ready for my assault. I also had a spare spool for my Olympic 440 reel all set to go, with a fast-sinking line and a wallet full of carefully-tied red setters and the like for when I had to fish the traditional downstream-and-across style.
Even just typing this brings back nostalgic memories of times past; I was excited beyond belief. I recall the first fish, a gleaming 5lb bar of sliver taken on a Red Setter in a deep gut just down from Grace’s Pool on the lower river. I was a slight kid and as such wasn’t allowed to wade too much. The river at this point ran deep and strong along the near bank and I was able to swing the fly right through the lie without getting my feet wet. I still recall the power of that fish and the deliciousness it offered, fresh from the smoker ....
In the early days the fishing was treated very akin to light salmon sport, but by the time I got my young butt to the river the gear and methodology had developed into what we, in New Zealand, called trout fishing ... albeit at the heavy end of the scale. Some anglers, even right into the ’80’s, maintained that much of the Taupo fishery and the Tongariro required 9 and 10 weight rods, something which today seems simply ludicrous, given we often chase kingfish on that gear now (though not at Taupo, obviously!).
Taupo quite rightly dominates the North Island freshwater fly-fishing scene, and as such the techniques used commonly there became accepted as standard “trout fishing techniques” - although most of those who primarily fished other regions would be aware that they weren’t. Taupo dominated people’s vision of trout fishing in the North Island and in many cases this meant they were handicapped when fishing what most would term more ‘conventional’ trout waters. Why?
As a young teenager I was about as compulsive a fly fisher as you could find: I saved up to buy books on the subject, and there was not a fishing book in the library that I had not read and re-read, to the point of almost being able to recite each one. One in particular, Fly Fishing Strategy by Doug Swisher and Carl Richards, held my attention a lot and through the pages I was able to clearly see the differences between trout fishing and steelhead fishing. It became apparent to me at a young age that what was practised at Taupo had a lot more in common with the latter.
While technically considered to be trout due to their spending their life in fresh water, the trout of Taupo more closely resemble steelhead (sea-run rainbow trout) than resident rainbows – and a large percentage of the initial stocks of rainbow trout brought to New Zealand to stock our waterways were indeed steelhead stock. In Taupo they had no access to the sea, so they have pretty much adopted the Lake as their primary residence (landlocked sea) and throughout the year run the tributary rivers on their spawning run, most concentrated during the winter and spring months. So it comes as no surprise really that our methodology for pursuing them would mimic the techniques used in the US to target the big sea-run steelhead running the rivers for the same purpose.
Anglers who did a lot of their fishing (South Islanders are a primary example, but this applies to other parts of the North Island as well) on their local streams for resident fish knew how to differentiate but those anglers who’d learned to fish Taupo and had been told it was “trout fishing” often never knew there was a difference in approach to the two types of water and fish. This often meant they used the same techniques on other waterways outside of Taupo and were not very successful - which only enhanced Taupo’s reputation as “the best fishery in the country”.
What’s my point? Well, The Taupo rivers also have quite solid resident populations, fish that do not behave as steelhead, and these are not readily targeted using steelhead techniques. For a long time this caused many anglers to believe Taupo was only a winter fishery - but those “in the know” knew that exceptional fishing for resident fish existed throughout the year if you knew how to adapt your technique to the trout’s behaviour.
In winter the most usual technique is to target fish using floating lines: long leaders and heavy bombs which drag-trailed glo-bugs to the depths where the spawning-run fish sit almost doggo at the bottom of pools, resting, on their upstream journey. Those that didn’t target them with the upstream nymph method used streamers swung deep, across and down and retrieved through the lies. There has been a resurgence in this style, with many adopting the salmon spey technique in recent years. However in summer these rivers hold fish that are behaving like resident fish - which they are - and not like spawning-run fish: holding in nice riffley runs on the edges of flows and more often than not within a metre or so of the surface. In fact some excellent dry fly fishing exists throughout the fishery from November onward right through to early April. Some of the best green beetle and cicada fishing I have had has been on the Upper Tongariro and many of the other tributaries.
For many years the evening rise on the Tongariro was not known to most anglers but these days is considered a feature of the river. The hatch is primarily Hydropsyche colonica, the most common caddis in the river, and the technique in the evening is fairly straightforward. Use a large #12 - #14 brown caddis adult - my favourite is the Elk Hair - and simply cast to any rise forms you see. If it’s not taken on the dead drift allow it to swing round in the current keeping the line taut but not speeding it up at all, and the fish will hit it hard on the swing. It can be sensational angling.
Once we get into spring I start to change my style of fishing on many of the Taupo Rivers, dropping back to #5 or 6 weight rod and lighter nymphs and dries and just wading the edges, rarely much more than shin deep; I simply approach the rivers as I would any similar stream anywhere else in the country. The Tongariro remains a favourite, but all the streams lend themselves to this style and some truly intimate angling can be had in the smaller tributaries like the Tauranga-Taupo, Hinemaiaia, Waiotaka etc.
Some of the best dry/dropper fishing can be had in this style, too. A large terrestrial style dry or one of my favourites, Randall Kaufmann’s Stimulator, combined with a #14 bead head caddis, is deadly when fished along the riffles and runs, in rarely more than a metre of water.
I recall one November me and a mate heading to the Hydro Pool on the Tongariro. The Sage “One” series of rods had just been released and I was very keen to try out my #6 weight for the first time. The river was in low flow; only one angler occupied the pool when we arrived and he was spey casting a heavy head into the deepest part of the pool. My friend Matthew rigged up as most people would ... long leader, massive bomb, #8 rod and a strike indicator that looked like a canary auditioning for the Brazilian Carnival. He had his 7mm neoprene’s on, even though it was about 16 degrees. I took note of this and though I didn’t say anything I wondered why people have such an ingrained, single-minded approach to the fishery. What he was doing would have been entirely appropriate in June, but in November, in low flow, I knew he’d be lucky to do much. And what compounded this was his deciding to drop down and fish the deep water adjacent to the confluence of the Mangawhitwhiti Stream: an awesome spot when the fish were running (a place renowned for massive browns to congregate awaiting a fresh to allow them access to the spawning beds of the smaller stream) but not a place I would have chosen to fish at this time of year.
I sat on a rock and watched him make a start, then I turned back to watch the spey guy. He engaged me in conversation and offered, unprompted, that his wasn’t the best way to fish but he’d just got his spey outfit and wanted to “give it a go”.
“Fair enough,” I thought. I contemplated rigging up a nymph rig, but it was a warm day, the untouched shallows at the top looked very inviting and the thought of throwing a Megafugly through there was too much to resist. I didn’t even bother with a dropper; just the big terrestrial, and I started to “shotgun” the riffle: mentally picking out grids in the water and working each grid methodically, before moving on to the next one. I won’t bore you with the details but in very short succession three fine fish of 3 - 5 lbs came to the net, all taken on the dryfly. I was pretty happy; I put them all back and returned to the bank to have a cigarette and await my mate’s return. He mentioned he’d seen me get a couple and enquired what on. When I showed him he thought I was pulling his leg ... that’s how ingrained the single approach to these waters is, in some people’s minds.
It’s not just the rivers that offer summer opportunity, either. Most know about Rotoaira, Otamangakau and Kuratau, to name a few, but the approaches there are usually appropriate as they fish the same as most resident lakes in the summer time and people are well versed in the techniques. These waters get a lot of pressure and hold up to it in an exemplary fashion throughout summer. But there is another opportunity many miss: from mid November to mid January every year on Lake Taupo itself, when the green manuka beetles explode in numbers and end up on the water. The dry fly fishing in the bays around the lake can be some of the very best still-water angling you will experience and as it coincides with the smelt spawning days of wandering beaches and bays on your own with a light rod, wet wading and targeting sighted fish, it makes the winter frosts and early mornings of steelhead fishing seem very far away indeed.
We lost the smelt fishing for several years and I missed it dearly but it has come back. It coincided with the decline the Taupo fishery experienced ... I have my conspiracy theory on fluctuating lake levels, silenced government departments and the future sale of Mighty River Power but those are things of the past. The smelt are back in numbers, and the smelt fishing around Kuratau and many other parts of the lake is coming back strongly. Dave Wood of First Cast Guiding told me recently his smelt fishing last summer was almost as good as he has seen it, and few know the Taupo fishery better than Dave.
I suggest you rethink Taupo as a winter fishery and try a new take on some of the places on offer. Fish with different methods to those you’ve used in the past; for me it’s the variance and availability of world class angling all year round that firmly cements Taupo in place as one of the world’s great trout/steelhead fisheries.