Words & Photos: Adrian Bell
I recall my Lower Hutt mate’s father pondering how it would be possible to catch a salmon on a lure. He was incredulous at the thought that they could be caught when they’d stopped eating. “They are just meant to snap at it,” he ventured. What would he have thought if he’d known that anglers also caught them on pilchards and shrimps in the Kaiapoi, an important spawning tributary of the lower Waimakariri River? But ‘snap at it’ they do, whether because of habit - or outrage that a prey-like entity would prance its stuff in front of a fish so obsessed with anticipation of a streambed tryst upstream.
Dad, brother Malcolm and I knew very little about the Chinook salmon (Oncorhynchus tshawytscha) when we first fished for them around 1970. With the Waimakariri flowing so close to our home in Christchurch, it was the obvious place to try tempting one to ‘snap at’ our lures. On an early sortie to Kairaki at the mouth of the river, I was fishing a one-ounce silver ‘ticer with my hollow glass trout spinning rod and Zangi Pelican reel lined with twelve pound nylon, when the retrieve was interrupted and I struck. Perhaps the lure had caught the lines of one of my fishing cohorts? No. The steady nod, characteristic of a salmon shaking its head upon feeling the bite of the treble, indicated otherwise. What a buzz to land my first salmon! It weighed twelve pounds, but a larger fish was to follow a season or two later.
One morning, while living in south Christchurch and teaching at Kaiapoi Borough School, I got up early in order to spend quality fishing time at Kairaki before heading for the classroom. My black parka cloaked the rather formal clothes worn by teachers of the era. Upon my capture of a twenty-two pound salmon, a nearby fisherman said rather ruefully, “I s’pose you’re going to work now, are you?”
Dad, brother Malcolm and I knew very little about the Chinook salmon (Oncorhynchus tshawytscha) when we first fished for them around 1970. With the Waimakariri flowing so close to our home in Christchurch, it was the obvious place to try tempting one to ‘snap at’ our lures. On an early sortie to Kairaki at the mouth of the river, I was fishing a one-ounce silver ‘ticer with my hollow glass trout spinning rod and Zangi Pelican reel lined with twelve pound nylon, when the retrieve was interrupted and I struck. Perhaps the lure had caught the lines of one of my fishing cohorts? No. The steady nod, characteristic of a salmon shaking its head upon feeling the bite of the treble, indicated otherwise. What a buzz to land my first salmon! It weighed twelve pounds, but a larger fish was to follow a season or two later.
One morning, while living in south Christchurch and teaching at Kaiapoi Borough School, I got up early in order to spend quality fishing time at Kairaki before heading for the classroom. My black parka cloaked the rather formal clothes worn by teachers of the era. Upon my capture of a twenty-two pound salmon, a nearby fisherman said rather ruefully, “I s’pose you’re going to work now, are you?”
While that fish remains the largest salmon I’ve caught in the Waimakariri, much larger specimens have been taken there. The size varies from year to year. For the past two years they’ve averaged just nine or ten pounds in weight, while in typical years the mean is twelve or thirteen. During some seasons some real doozies have been caught though; historically, a forty-two pound specimen caught by Norm Thackwell remains the largest Waimakariri salmon whose weight can be verified.
This variability is related to the availability of forage at sea and the time they spend there (between two and four years) before returning to their home waters. Another size factor, which hatchery managers attempt to manipulate, is competitiveness. By holding developing smolts in raceways longer than they would stay in nursery streams in the wild, and by governing the food supply to make them compete with each other for food, smolts are released that are larger and fitter, less vulnerable to predation by shags and better prepared for aggressive foraging at sea. By comparing the size of fin-clipped hatchery fish with those raised in the wild, North Canterbury Fish and Game have shown that hatchery-reared smolts tend to be larger than their wild counterparts. The largest salmon caught in the Waimakariri estuary this past season was a twenty-five pounder. The fact that it was originally a fin-clipped hatchery fish provides some justification for the strategy of our hatchery managers.
While North American Chinook can be as old as eight years at maturity, ours max out at four years. As a result, American fish can grow much larger (the largest commercially-caught Chinook weighed 126 pounds.). It is likely that the size of salmon is closely related to the length of the river they must negotiate before reaching their spawning water. As our biggest salmon rivers are much shorter, there isn’t the need for a very large fish.
As the Chinook is native to the northern Pacific, the question has to be asked: how did they end up in New Zealand waters - and specifically in the Waimakariri watershed? Following the importation and planting of eyed ova from California at the beginning of last century, salmon began running the Waitaki system in 1906 and 1907. The Waimakariri run was established by salmon straying into that river instead of returning to the Waitaki.
The river mouths of the eastern South Island salmon rivers fall into two categories: those such as the Hurunui, Rakaia and Rangitata which enter the sea via narrow ‘guts’ of fast-moving water over gravel and uniquely, the Waimakariri which enters the sea through a wide mouth via a sand bar. While the former rivers include tidal lagoons and offer surf fishing in the right conditions, only the Waimakariri has a significant estuary. The gradual transition from brackish to fresh water slows the progress of salmon upstream, making them more available to fishermen. For the present purpose, the estuary is defined as the four or five kilometres of tidal influence from the Kainga railway bridge to the mouth at Kairaki Beach. While the substrate at Kainga is composed largely of shingle, river silt and sand gradually cover more of the gravel as the river flows towards Kairaki, where the bed and banks are completely mantled in sand.
For a visitor wishing to fish the estuary for salmon, questions concerning when to go, where to go and what to use can be a little daunting - but the basics are really fairly straightforward.
This variability is related to the availability of forage at sea and the time they spend there (between two and four years) before returning to their home waters. Another size factor, which hatchery managers attempt to manipulate, is competitiveness. By holding developing smolts in raceways longer than they would stay in nursery streams in the wild, and by governing the food supply to make them compete with each other for food, smolts are released that are larger and fitter, less vulnerable to predation by shags and better prepared for aggressive foraging at sea. By comparing the size of fin-clipped hatchery fish with those raised in the wild, North Canterbury Fish and Game have shown that hatchery-reared smolts tend to be larger than their wild counterparts. The largest salmon caught in the Waimakariri estuary this past season was a twenty-five pounder. The fact that it was originally a fin-clipped hatchery fish provides some justification for the strategy of our hatchery managers.
While North American Chinook can be as old as eight years at maturity, ours max out at four years. As a result, American fish can grow much larger (the largest commercially-caught Chinook weighed 126 pounds.). It is likely that the size of salmon is closely related to the length of the river they must negotiate before reaching their spawning water. As our biggest salmon rivers are much shorter, there isn’t the need for a very large fish.
As the Chinook is native to the northern Pacific, the question has to be asked: how did they end up in New Zealand waters - and specifically in the Waimakariri watershed? Following the importation and planting of eyed ova from California at the beginning of last century, salmon began running the Waitaki system in 1906 and 1907. The Waimakariri run was established by salmon straying into that river instead of returning to the Waitaki.
The river mouths of the eastern South Island salmon rivers fall into two categories: those such as the Hurunui, Rakaia and Rangitata which enter the sea via narrow ‘guts’ of fast-moving water over gravel and uniquely, the Waimakariri which enters the sea through a wide mouth via a sand bar. While the former rivers include tidal lagoons and offer surf fishing in the right conditions, only the Waimakariri has a significant estuary. The gradual transition from brackish to fresh water slows the progress of salmon upstream, making them more available to fishermen. For the present purpose, the estuary is defined as the four or five kilometres of tidal influence from the Kainga railway bridge to the mouth at Kairaki Beach. While the substrate at Kainga is composed largely of shingle, river silt and sand gradually cover more of the gravel as the river flows towards Kairaki, where the bed and banks are completely mantled in sand.
For a visitor wishing to fish the estuary for salmon, questions concerning when to go, where to go and what to use can be a little daunting - but the basics are really fairly straightforward.
Where to go |
1. The Rail Bridge Pool
Immediately below the rail bridge is a pool that can be accessed on the true left side of the river by taking the first left turn after crossing the Old Waimakariri Road Bridge from Christchurch. This road provides 4WD access to the riverbed and a significant section of fishable water below the rail bridge. This shingle section, also popular for sea-run brown trout anglers before Christmas, is best fished early in the morning or in the fading hours of daylight. 2. The Banana Hole This is reached via the same road used for the Rail Bridge Pool. Instead of turning right to access the riverbed, you proceed downstream; the Banana Hole is fished in gaps between trees. When the salmon are running it pays to turn up early. When using the road to reach either of these venues, it’s important to take note of the times that the access gate is unlocked and locked. A key can be obtained from the Environment Canterbury Regional Office in Christchurch. A large net is required. |
3. Stewarts Gully
This shoreline on the true right can be accessed via Kainga. Turn left at Riverlea Estate Drive and park in the empty section next to the stopbank. Walk along the stopbank until you reach a track to the left through pine forest; this exits onto a walkway along the riverbank. As the area is also used by bait fishermen for kahawai, it is advisable to turn up early. A net is required here also.
4. Burkes Point
The walking access point is beside a locked gate at the end of Courtenay Drive (now almost devoid of houses due to the Christchurch quakes), which also provides access to Courtenay Lake. Take the walking track up to and along the stopbank until you reach a track to your left. This will take you to the left bank of the Waimakariri and the true right of the Kaiapoi River mouth.
5. McIntosh’s Rocks
Take the Kaiapoi to Kairaki Beach Road and turn right at Ferry Road (the shingle road about halfway down). The parking area at the river end provides foot access to McIntosh’s Rocks, the eastern end of which forms the true left side of the Kaiapoi River mouth. This area often fishes well early in the season and when salmon are waiting to run the Kaiapoi. A net is essential.
6. Kairaki Beach
Turning right at the end of Beach Road onto Clifford Road takes you to the township of Kairaki. Turn left at the end and proceed onto the beach if you have a 4WD; otherwise park in the designated area. This provides access to the true left mouth of the Waimakariri. This is one of New Zealand’s most popular fishing destinations.
7. The South Side
The true right mouth of the river can be accessed by 4WD along the beach from Spencer Park; a permit plus a key must be purchased from Spencer Park’s ranger. When a good channel has formed on this side, productive fishing can be enjoyed earlier in an ebbing tide than at Kairaki Beach. As the access beach is narrow, it shouldn’t be driven on at high tide.
Kahawai or Salmon?
As kahawai are more likely to be encountered than salmon, it’s good to know the distinguishing features of the strike and fight. Generally, I’ve found that kahawai hit the lure harder than salmon - they usually leap, and the rod tends to jiggle rather than nod. A salmon take is more like hitting a snag. If you’re using braid and you know that your hooks are sharp, there is little need for a heavy strike. There is normally a brief pause before the headshake begins, which gives you a chance to loosen off the drag. A large boil on the surface or a straight rooster-tail run across the surface confirms that the hooked fish is a salmon.
The Fight
While it’s common knowledge that salmon excel at clearing obstacles, a fish hooked in brackish water will not jump if hooked in the mouth. If it does leap, it’s almost certainly foulhooked and must be returned. My first salmon of the current season gave me a full-on fight, but because it jumped I knew it was almost certain to be foulhooked. After removing the hook from the handsome fish’s side, I held it in the current until it swam away. Fortunately for me, I hooked a smaller fish legitimately in the mouth shortly afterwards.
The intensity of the fight is closely related to the size of fish. Once hooked, salmon tend to head for the sea, requiring the call of “Fish on!” so that other anglers know to get their lines out of the water. I have found salmon fishermen to be courteous in that situation, and there is usually someone on hand to either net or tail your fish to the bank (this requires restraint, as when one salmon is being played it is likely that others are there as well). When a salmon’s belly touches the sand, it gives one more straight run before turning on its side.
Waimakariri translates into ‘river of cold rushing water’. It’s presently pristine, but that hasn’t always been the case: I can remember my silver ‘ticer turning a greyish colour after a number of casts. Liquid wastes such as discharges from wool scouring and meat processing plants caused it to be ranked one of the country’s ten most polluted rivers in 2007. These wastes have now been removed however; these days, Waimakariri has a pleasant smell and birds such as royal spoonbills are common.
According to Ross Millichamp, recent yearly runs of salmon in the Waimakariri vary between 2000 and 7000 fish. The run is similar to that of the Rakaia, where it varies between 1500 and 8000 fish - surprising, given that at 157 cumecs the Rakaia has almost twice the average flow of the Waimakariri. Regardless, as our run numbers are not large by American standards, it behoves really successful fishermen to practice conservation by releasing salmon once a reasonable number have been taken for culinary purposes.
Ross has titled his book Salmon Fever for a good reason. The prospect of being able to take one of these magnificent fish home and thence to the smoker is, as Hamlet states in a different context, “a consummation devoutly to be wished.”
This shoreline on the true right can be accessed via Kainga. Turn left at Riverlea Estate Drive and park in the empty section next to the stopbank. Walk along the stopbank until you reach a track to the left through pine forest; this exits onto a walkway along the riverbank. As the area is also used by bait fishermen for kahawai, it is advisable to turn up early. A net is required here also.
4. Burkes Point
The walking access point is beside a locked gate at the end of Courtenay Drive (now almost devoid of houses due to the Christchurch quakes), which also provides access to Courtenay Lake. Take the walking track up to and along the stopbank until you reach a track to your left. This will take you to the left bank of the Waimakariri and the true right of the Kaiapoi River mouth.
5. McIntosh’s Rocks
Take the Kaiapoi to Kairaki Beach Road and turn right at Ferry Road (the shingle road about halfway down). The parking area at the river end provides foot access to McIntosh’s Rocks, the eastern end of which forms the true left side of the Kaiapoi River mouth. This area often fishes well early in the season and when salmon are waiting to run the Kaiapoi. A net is essential.
6. Kairaki Beach
Turning right at the end of Beach Road onto Clifford Road takes you to the township of Kairaki. Turn left at the end and proceed onto the beach if you have a 4WD; otherwise park in the designated area. This provides access to the true left mouth of the Waimakariri. This is one of New Zealand’s most popular fishing destinations.
7. The South Side
The true right mouth of the river can be accessed by 4WD along the beach from Spencer Park; a permit plus a key must be purchased from Spencer Park’s ranger. When a good channel has formed on this side, productive fishing can be enjoyed earlier in an ebbing tide than at Kairaki Beach. As the access beach is narrow, it shouldn’t be driven on at high tide.
Kahawai or Salmon?
As kahawai are more likely to be encountered than salmon, it’s good to know the distinguishing features of the strike and fight. Generally, I’ve found that kahawai hit the lure harder than salmon - they usually leap, and the rod tends to jiggle rather than nod. A salmon take is more like hitting a snag. If you’re using braid and you know that your hooks are sharp, there is little need for a heavy strike. There is normally a brief pause before the headshake begins, which gives you a chance to loosen off the drag. A large boil on the surface or a straight rooster-tail run across the surface confirms that the hooked fish is a salmon.
The Fight
While it’s common knowledge that salmon excel at clearing obstacles, a fish hooked in brackish water will not jump if hooked in the mouth. If it does leap, it’s almost certainly foulhooked and must be returned. My first salmon of the current season gave me a full-on fight, but because it jumped I knew it was almost certain to be foulhooked. After removing the hook from the handsome fish’s side, I held it in the current until it swam away. Fortunately for me, I hooked a smaller fish legitimately in the mouth shortly afterwards.
The intensity of the fight is closely related to the size of fish. Once hooked, salmon tend to head for the sea, requiring the call of “Fish on!” so that other anglers know to get their lines out of the water. I have found salmon fishermen to be courteous in that situation, and there is usually someone on hand to either net or tail your fish to the bank (this requires restraint, as when one salmon is being played it is likely that others are there as well). When a salmon’s belly touches the sand, it gives one more straight run before turning on its side.
Waimakariri translates into ‘river of cold rushing water’. It’s presently pristine, but that hasn’t always been the case: I can remember my silver ‘ticer turning a greyish colour after a number of casts. Liquid wastes such as discharges from wool scouring and meat processing plants caused it to be ranked one of the country’s ten most polluted rivers in 2007. These wastes have now been removed however; these days, Waimakariri has a pleasant smell and birds such as royal spoonbills are common.
According to Ross Millichamp, recent yearly runs of salmon in the Waimakariri vary between 2000 and 7000 fish. The run is similar to that of the Rakaia, where it varies between 1500 and 8000 fish - surprising, given that at 157 cumecs the Rakaia has almost twice the average flow of the Waimakariri. Regardless, as our run numbers are not large by American standards, it behoves really successful fishermen to practice conservation by releasing salmon once a reasonable number have been taken for culinary purposes.
Ross has titled his book Salmon Fever for a good reason. The prospect of being able to take one of these magnificent fish home and thence to the smoker is, as Hamlet states in a different context, “a consummation devoutly to be wished.”