Editor note
The spring issue of H2O Magazine UK comes at the end of what feels like a very long and wet winter. Opportunities for fishing at home have been scarce lately, with only a few windows of time available over the past few months. However, we've been occupied with a busy season of shows. Spring in the UK is a time to rejoice, trout and salmon fishing returns to our rivers and the hours of daylight lengthen, which we all know means more time for fishing! Through the next few pages we bring you exciting adventures from fishing locations all around the world, along with a view into the world of fishing art and history.
This issue comes out while we are very busy at trade fairs and various events. We are in the middle of the spring promotional tour which will see us in France at the beginning of April, then in Germany at the EWF fair and subsequently in Switzerland and Italy for other events. In the magazine, we offer you some articles of very interesting fishing destinations, starting from the Cuban flats, continuing to Bolivia in search of the legendary golden dorado, and then New Caledonia, Cameroon, and Iceland. This is the second issue of the English edition of H2O Magazine, which joins our Italian and French editions.
AlexContents
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BOLIVIA HELI FISHING
If you enquire with any avid angler about their dream destinations, Tsimane in the heart of the Bolivian jungle is bound to be...
8
CUBA THE LAND OF THE GRAND SLAM
Cuba is a destination for all the senses, the largest island in the Caribbean, a diverse landscape, colourful culture ...
28
BEHIND THE LENS WITH FABIAN FINGERLOS
Fabian Fingerlos is a 28-yearold photographer and fly angler from Austria, where he spends most of his days...
36
56
NYMPHING FOR SALMON
Katka Švagrová has been competing at the top level for a long time. She has won the Czech women’s championship multiple times...
Wild. Wilder. Cameroon!
Walking down to the Faro River from camp after breakfast, Stu, Ed, the game scouts, and I were excited about the day ahead...
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CHALK: Bedrock of Fly Fishing
Never work with children or animals. As filmmakers, this age-old piece of advice has been echoed throughout our careers...
48
COLLECTING FISHING RODS
Collecting fishing rods doesn't actually present any great difficulties. It's enough to go to some flea markets and you will always find ...
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ART IN FISHING: ROLAND HENRION
An artist, graphic designer, and photographer by profession, Roland was born in Belgium in 1960...
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BONEFISH IN New Caledonia
Often, and unconsciously, fly fishermen make unique and vital contributions to the econo- mies and conservation efforts of small communities...
CUBA THE LAND OF THE Grand
Cuba is a destination for all the senses, the largest island in the Caribbean, a diverse landscape, colourful culture and fish-rich waters. Despite the adversities that the people face here, they go about their daily lives with a friendly smile and offer fantastic music, elaborate art and rum fueled cocktails. No trip to this part of the world is complete without a stay in the capital, La Habana. Whilst
many of the buildings lie in various states of disrepair, their crumbling walls provide an insight into a rich past. Beautiful marble staircases, large murals and elaborate architecture. Fresh cigar smoke drifts through the streets and live Son Cubano and Rumba are a treat for the ears.
Departing from the hustle and bustle of the capital you can travel in most directions to
find wonderful saltwater fishing. Few locations in the Caribbean can boast about the size and numbers of the most notable of saltwater fly fishing species; bonefish, permit and tarpon, like Cuba can.
One specific location in Cuba is the archipelago of Jardines de la Reina, an area so beautiful that it was named by Christopher Columbus in honour of the Queen of Spain, Isabella I of
Castile. For more than 30 years the area has been protected and managed as a unique nature reserve that has, in turn, made it a spectacular place to fly fish.
Whilst traversing through the dozens of cays and drifting over acres of turtle grass and sand may be far more comfortable than it was in Columbus’ day, much of the wildlife and beauty remains. Numerous birds fill the sky, hutias
"...Fresh cigar smoke drifts through the streets and live Son Cubano and Rumba are a treat for the ears..."
clamber through the mangroves, and crocodiles slide through the shadows. Beneath the water’s surface, tortugas (turtles) push past, various rays glide effortlessly, and a plethora of fish glimmer in the warm sunshine.
These waters offer some of the best chances to achieve the coveted Caribbean flats grand slam, the successful landing of a bonefish, tarpon and permit all in the same day. Here is how a grand slam day may look…
, you awake to the gentle rocking of the mothership. Ascending to the ship’s main deck, the smell of coffee leads you to breakfast whilst darkness still blankets the surrounds. Light comes quickly in this part of the world, 0630
and by morning rush hour ensues as happy anglers board their skiffs.
Although the light is flat at this time of day, this makes it optimum for searching for tarpon.
With little to no subsurface visibility, anglers
white Tarpon Toad grabs the fish’s attention and soon the calm of dawn is smashed by large, angry fish taking to the surface. As many fish are lost as landed, but by bowing to the king those odds often shift towards the angler. 0730
rely on surface activity which the tarpon duly obliges. Leaving the tangle of mangrove roots, the silver king moves in schools in open water. They roll through the surface like porpoising dolphins hunting large shoals of sardines. A 1/0
It is now the sun has climbed quickly into the sky and the inky surface of dawn has given way to complete clarity. A window to the world beneath the surface, with luck combined with a pushing tide. The deep-
Standing at the bow of the skiff, an angler should be poised with fly in hand, a castable length of line stripped from the reel, and medium tension set on the reel drag. The guide maneuvers the boat from a raised platform at 0900,
ening water allows the likes of bonefish and permit the chance to push further up on to the flats to feed. A grand slam hungry angler should use this time wisely to hunt one of the ficklest fish in the sea, the permit.
the stern, scanning the water for any sign of the black-tailed devil. Patience is key at this stage; you might go five minutes until you see a fish, but you may also be drifting for two hours before an opportunity arises and even then, chances are often against the angler. Belief and focus are a must.
The majority of permit shots are to moving fish, rather than stationary feeding fish. Therefore, when an opportunity does present itself, things happen quickly. The guide’s call comes… “Palometa! 9 o’clock! 50 feet!” Instinct has you wanting to cast, but take a moment, try to locate the target first. Once locked, make your cast in front of the fish. With moving permit you will want to start your retrieve almost immediately. A long steady strip is perfect to set the hook, and then sit back and enjoy the ride. Fly line and backing will disappear at speed and numerous times over. Panicking is just part of the joy of it!
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It is , you have already landed two of the most sought-after species in flats fly fishing, now is a perfect time to moor the skiff in the shade of the mangroves, enjoy a cold beer and assorted lunch. Make sure you also keep your water intake up throughout the day, being in the sun, out on the flats all day, is incredibly dehydrating. While it is vitally important for your health, it is also important as it helps to maintain concentration.
1300
Returning to the flats at , the final target is clear… the bonefish. The ghost of the flats is one of the most widely targeted of all the flats species, and for great reason; they provide wonderful sight fishing opportunities, readily eat a fly, and fight pound for pound as strong as any fish that swims. In this part of Cuba, they average a very healthy three to four pounds, with fish in excess of ten pounds very possible. By now the tide has turned and the water is draining from the flats; this is not the optimum time to target bonefish but it was important to use that time chasing permit. That said, the changing conditions bring about exciting opportunities. The dropping water exposes the backs of bonefish trying to hold on the crustacean filled turtle grass and away from the hungry mouths of patiently waiting sharks. They are understandably more skittish now, so you
may want to drop down in rod weight and switch to lightly or un-weighted flies to offer a more delicate approach.
The bonefish can now be spotted at greater range, but longer casts are required so not to spook the fish. Anglers can be more selective, dorsal and tail fins cut their way through the surface. Taking your time, a cast should be made to the fish with the greatest distance between the dorsal fin and tail. In these conditions, it is common to spook several shots but incredibly exciting when you see the fins change direction towards your fly. As they near, the tail will flick a bit faster, then the line will draw tight. Set the hook and, as with the permit, sit back and enjoy all your line emptying off the reel.
1630
Now it is , the sun is beginning to drop slowly but surely. You are gliding in skiff across open flats and weaving through mangrove channels back to the mothership for a chilled aperitif and welcome hors d'oeuvres. You have achieved a grand slam, an accolade that most saltwater anglers can only dream of.
BOLIVIA
HELI FISHING
If you enquire with any avid angler about their dream destinations, Tsimane in the heart of the Bolivian jungle is bound to be a recurring theme. It has earned a remarkable reputation as a place that reshapes one's perspective on what constitutes a significant and unforgettable trip. Having previously fished and guided for golden dorado in northern Argentina, I had caught wind of tales from friends who had ventured into Bolivia, claiming that this experience was an entirely different beast. Imagine crystal-clear rivers resembling the trout streams of New Zealand, winding their way through the thick, untamed jungle and a
plethora of hard fighting and colourful species.
Embarking on a journey to a remote and distant destination typically involves meticulous planning and months of consideration. However, this time around, it was different. When presented with the opportunity to explore Tsimane's new heli programme with only a few weeks' notice, my decision was swift. Spontaneous travel also translated to a last-minute scramble for a flight to Santa Cruz, the city signalling the start of my journey on the flip side. Though my ticket boasted Iberia Airlines, it was merely a facade; the bulk of the travel was
entrusted to Bolivian Airways.
A restful night at the Los Tajibos Hotel in Santa Cruz, complete with a satisfying breakfast, marked the perfect prelude to an adventure I had envisioned for years. Flights, cosy hotels, and some driving seemed dim formalities compared to the prospect of the wildness of the jungle. The internal flight turned out to be shorter than expected, and we soon touched down on the dusty landing strip in the village of Oromono, a modest indigenous community nestled at the foothills of the Bolivian Andes. Stepping off the plane, we were enveloped by the thick jun-
gle air, a cacophony of sounds from the vibrant bird and insect life, and the wide grins of local children who eagerly inspected the newcomers.
The usual journey for Pluma Lodge guests is to navigate upriver in dugout canoes, but a four-seater Robinson R44 was waiting for us. Rising above the treetops, we soared toward the setting sun, which painted the mountains in shades of red and amber, evoking scenes reminiscent of Apocalypse Now. The jungle sprawled beneath us like a lush green carpet, occasionally punctuated by flashes of electric blue from flocks of macaws returning to their roosts for the night.
While Pluma Lodge's regular programme concentrates on exploring the River Pluma and the
lower sections of its main tributary, the Itirisama, the helicopter programme unveils opportunities to prospect an abundance of remote water. For our guides, Nico and Juan Pablo, the helicopter was a key to exploration, a means to discover those little-known rivers that are nothing more than a vein of clear water on Google Earth. The heli programme accommodates four guests at a time. However, I played the role of the tag-along fifth on this journey, sharing most of the days with a straight-talking and enjoyable Aussie named Dizzie and an experienced Brazilian jungle angler named Breno.
Our introduction to the heli fishing programme unfolded on the upper reaches of the Pluma. In a manner reminiscent of trout fishing, Dizzie and I stealthily moved upstream, our footsteps
hushed on the soft sand, and we trod lightly on the small rocks with quiet finesse. This style of fishing resonated with me, a blend of hunting, spotting our way upstream, and scanning the clear water for glimmers of gold or the slategreen back of a dorado. Nico’s eyes were finely tuned to discern the subtleties between fish and riverbed. "Top of the run on the right side of the boulder. Cast and strip fast," he directs. Dizzie throws a tidy line, and the black streamer lands with a subtle plop near the rocky edge. Suddenly, from the green depths, the water erupts. "Strip, strip, strip!" echoes the command from behind. Dizzie is hooked up, and the fish is airborne, showing acrobatic prowess. The sun catches its striped golden flank. I couldn't help but revel in my love for these remarkable fish.The battle was brief but lively, and soon,
my newfound Aussie friend was cradling his golden toothy prize. "How about that?" I say. "Bloody awesome, mate! One hell of a fish." Upstream from Nico and Dizzie I find myself at a slow, deep pool framed by a high rocky outcrop on the far bank. The riffle at the top collides with a car-sized boulder before transforming into a large eddy just below. I prospect the deep water to entice a take from the structure below, but nothing. Treading quietly, heel first, I move to the faster water at the top. The first strip through the riffle is welcomed by a following black shape. A pacu. The fish follows into the eddy, keeping pace with the streamer but hesitating to commit. I stop, and it comes closer, nosing the fly in the soft bottom. A short, sharp pluck and then the pacu sips the fly down. On setting the hook with a swift strip, the fish tears line from my fingers and makes a beeline for the pile of sunken debris downstream of the large boulder. Now, on the reel, I crank the drag as tight as I dare and stop it just in time to prevent getting cut off. A spirited tussle ensues, but each run is less, and soon, the black dinner plate is settled in the sandy shallows. Plenty of parallels between this pacu and the triggerfish I have caught in Seychelles can be drawn. Their sneakiness, distinct personalities, and, above all, their dogged strength.
JP approaches us the following morning as we enjoy coffee amidst the jungle's symphony on the slatted front deck. He asks if we were keen on exploring the uncharted upper reaches of the Pluma. This untouched territory promised a unique opportunity to scout small waters and cast at dorado that had never seen flies. Upstream, the Pluma transforms into a boulder-covered and intimate landscape. Unlike the longer glides we had fished the day before, this area features pocket water, with rock-hopping from one small pool to the next. The fish are unpressured
and enthusiastic, not particularly large but offer great fun on chunky dries. Besides dorado, this stretch of the river houses good numbers of yatorana, a fiercely strong smaller fish resembling an overgrown, toothy, and colourful roach.
As we round the bend, JP lifts his hand to signal stop. Walking towards us is a female tapir with
its calf. The tapir sticks its elongated snout in the air, wiggling it from side to side; it can sense a whiff of the unusual. Tapirs have notoriously poor eyesight and can be curious creatures, especially when encountering humans for the first time. To capture her attention, JP whistles. The tapir turns, and to our amazement, follows the sound. Another whistle. The tapir came clos-
er, disappearing underneath the water before resurfacing within casting distance. Another whistle, and she comes even closer, sniffing the air again. She is less than ten metres away. We stand still, careful not to breathe too heavily for fear of concluding this remarkable encounter.
The Itirisama has always been celebrated as the
crown jewel in the Pluma Lodge programme, as the river is renowned for its stunning environment and technical clear-water fishing. As Chucky, the lodge manager, and head guide Alejandro were joining us for the day, I knew that venturing into the upper reaches of this mythical river would be a unique experience. The Itirisama runs clearer than the Pluma, allowing sight fishing in almost all the pools. It is a place that demands a delicate approach, with each fish requiring careful stalking. We soon find that fishing this section of the Itirisama is not for the faint of heart, as much of the river flows through steep-sided gorges, and the only way to move upstream is to swim. Swimming a considerable distance with all your gear and heavy wading boots is no easy feat, but employing the proper technique can make it more manageable. Wearing the backpack on your front serves as a flotation device, and you can tuck your rods on top under your chin. I relish this kind of fishing, which is uncompromising, unforgiving, and exploratory.
If a pool looked promising, it held fish. These were formidable residents with greenbacks and robust shoulders; all seemed in the double-figure range and beyond. Armed with my camera, I took on the role of a spectator rather than an
angler. Now, it was time for Dizzie and Breno to take centre stage. On scaling a smooth, grey outcrop sculpted by years of relentless currents, I spot two large dorado positioned like trout at the tail of the smooth green pool below. Crouching low to remain unseen, I secure the best vantage point to witness the impending spectacle. Using rod lengths, I describe the precise position of the fish to Chucky and Dizzie. The take is so instant that it seems the dorado tracked the fly as the loop unrolled from the final delivery. The smaller of the two breaks the surface with an impressive jump, the fly in the corner of its mouth. Sensing the disturbance, other dorado from upstream join, and soon, a pod of five launch an attack on the hooked fish. I witness every detail of each fin and tooth, marvelling at one of the most aggressive freshwater predators in all its glory. However, as quickly as the fish took the fly, it comes loose, leaving Dizzie with a tangled mess of slack line at his feet.
We swam and explored for the remainder of that day, and the boys cast their lines. The journey was far from easy, but the juice was worth the squeeze as almost every pool presented opportunities to hook up with big dorado. Among all the places we fished, the Itirisama stood out
as the one I would run back to more than any other, no matter the distance. The vivid images of that day are etched into my consciousness, destined never to dull or fade. Even though I wasn't actively fishing, the river embodied everything I could have hoped for from Bolivia. This sentiment was crystallized at the end of the day when, in an impossibly beautiful pocket, I couldn't resist making a few casts before our pickup. Second cast a monstrous dorado surged after my fly, its head half out of the water, reminiscent of a GT.
Describing the heli fishing at Tsimane would be better suited to a book rather than a brief account, as encapsulating an experience so rich with so few words is challenging. Travelling to Pluma Lodge and participating in the heli programme was about more than targeting dorado, pacu, and other unique and wonderful species. It was about being fully immersed in a place untouched by man's hand that so few get to see. A place where you walk through clouds of multi-coloured butterflies beside clear waters, enveloped in a canopy of green dense jungle, a jungle alive with noise, teeming with life and pulsating with energy.
Behind The Lens
WITH FABIAN
FINGERLOS
Behind The Lens
WITH FABIAN FINGERLOS
Fabian Fingerlos is a 28-year-old photographer and fly angler from Austria, where he spends most of his days pursuing peace and happiness on his favourite waters. With his camera in one hand and the fishing rod in the other, he takes wonderful pictures to
share how beautiful our nature and all its creatures are. Fabian was more than happy to answer some questions and share his wisdom and experience. You can find more of Fabian’s work on his website: www.byhighflyers.com or on his Instagram page: @by.highfl
Do you remember your very first fly fishing experience? How did you get involved in flyfishing?
About 10 years ago I was mostly lure fishing for pike in a bigger lake nearby. To be honest, I was addicted and never thought about fly
fishing. For me it seemed always a bit weird, stripping the fly line by hand and not using your spool. The lake was fed by a river. Well, it actually was a small creek which was pretty hidden in the woods. One day a friend of mine showed me fly fishing in this little creek, which actually held some decent fish,
especially when the water levels were high. My friend showed me how to cast and of course he showed me dry fly fishing on sight. That was the moment I was hooked. One week later I got my own fly rod and started teaching myself.
was the moment I was hooked
That
YouliveinAustria–whatareyourfavorite species to fly fish and what are your favorite waters?
In Austria we actually have a big variety of fish to catch on a fly rod, but my favourite species by far are native brown trout and grayling. I love to explore small hidden mountain creeks, which require a bit of climbing and hiking. Sometimes those hidden spots hold the most magnificent fish. But I also like to fish medium sized rivers for grayling. A good friend of mine, Martin Schoissengeier has some awesome fishing areas. If you plan to visit Austria, you should definitely check out his waters at: https://ffmh.at/
Other than trout and grayling, do you fly fishforotherspecies?
I do fish for pike from time to time, but as it mostly requires a boat, I don’t do it that often.
What I really like during summer, is to fish for chub using big hopper or bug imitations. This works pretty fine in our lakes. Also, barbel are super fun to catch.
Canyounameafewofyourfavouritefly patterns?Areyoumoreofadryflyoranymph type of guy?.......................................................
For our mountain creeks, the go to fly is definitely the Goddard caddis as it is an excellent swimmer. My preferred nymph for grayling is the Perdigon nymph. To be honest I am neither a dry fly nor a nymph guy. Depends on my mood and location. I really like nymph fishing in difficult currents, where you have to place your nymph with a parachute cast in the right location to get it down and mend a lot, so it doesn’t drag. If you do that right, and you got a lot of line out, laying on the surface in a nice loop and you get a bite, that’s probably the best
feeling. But of course, as I already mentioned, dry fly fishing in small mountain creeks can also be thrilling when you suddenly see a native brown smashing your dry fly.
Asaphotographer,canyoudescribewhat photographymeanstoyouandwhatwouldfly fishingbewithoutphotography?
Well, photography gives me the possibility to capture moments and scenery. To preserve memories and to be able to show others how beautiful our nature and its creatures are. It’s just super fun to shoot while by the water and seeing the result back home while editing. It can be both challenging, to shoot the perfect picture like you have it in your head and to catch the fish that you spotted in the shallow waters. That’s why I don’t want to miss anything of those two.
What do you carry in your photo bag?
What are your favourite lenses and what are somethingsyoujustneedtohavewithyouas aphotographer?
That’s a good question. Because as a photographer I am always carrying too much equipment around. I take a couple of lenses, but at the end of the day, I often end up just using the same setup as always. So, when going fishing I reduce my equipment a bit, because it gets rather heavy to carry it the whole day around. The camera I am using is a Sony Alpha 7 Series. My favourite lens while fishing is the Tamron 1728mm F2.8 lens. With 17mm you get a good wide angle for nature photography, and 28mm is perfect for fullbody or fish pictures. The second lens I carry around is either a Sony 85mm F1.8 for portraits or a Tamron 70-180mm F2.8 Tele lens. The second one is my new love, because a tele lens gives your pictures some cool looks.
Whoinspiresyourworkthemost?
My good friend Florian Lustig. He is self employed as a videographer and also a fly fishing nerd like me. We are always pushing each other and working on projects together. Last year we filmed a fly fishing film in Austria which is called “The Flyfishing Cult” and it is currently shown at the Rise Fly Fishing Film Festival. We always have new ideas in our heads, and this keeps our creativity going.
Theworldkeepschangingandourplanet looksdifferentthanitlooked50yearsago.Doyou keepnoticingsomechangesaswellandwhatdo youthinkflyanglerscandotomakethingsjusta little bit better?..................................................
I am 28 years old, probably too young to see those mature changes. But what stands out is that we have had a lot of flood events in the last few years on the one hand and also a lot of dry periods on the other hand. So, weather extremes are definitely increasing and affect fish and river systems. We cannot really change these big things on our own, but we can still take care of our environment, for example not throwing away any garbage in the countryside. If you find trash from someone else, just grab it and take it to the next trash can. Keep our wilderness areas clean, so our next generation can enjoy it the same way we are doing now.
Is there a song in your mind that would matchyourperfectmomentwhilestandingin yourfavouritewaterwaitingforafishtograb thefly?
Definitely a chill song like Campfire from Ziggy Alberts.
What would be the most valuable advice you could pass on to the young generations, bothasaphotographerandaflyangler?
Don’t go out with the intention that you have to catch the biggest fish or take the perfect picture. Go out to calm yourself down. Life is busy enough. Enjoy the moments in nature, soak in the good energy and the big fish and good pictures will come on their own.
NYMPHING FOR
Katka Švagrová has been competing at the top level for a long time. She has won the Czech women’s championship multiple times, along with individual and team medals at full international level for the Czech ladies’ national team. Currently, she is guiding on the Laxa I Kjos and has been experimenting with French leader fishing for salmon.
What is French Nymphing?
Originally, the French nymphing technique was conceived by the French national team
during the world fly fishing championship in 2000. In the following years the Belgian and Czech national teams adopted the technique and continued to evolve the concept which, by now, had almost totally replaced the Czech nymphing technique. Over the course of this last 15 years, many fishermen from all over the world have moved from classical upstream fishing style of dead drift fishing and adopted the French leader technique. The French nymphing technique is the perfect style to catch spooky fish in most situations in running water. The main difference in us-
ing the French leader to any other nymphing method is the lack of fly line. The French leader consists of a very long tapered monofilament leader ending in a shorter colourful indicator piece. The fly is cast upstream into the current, a few metres above where you expect fish to lie. As you cast, the rod is raised to keep leader and indicator just above the surface. Your fly, or flies, are allowed to drift towards you while you watch the indicator all the time. If you see any movement of indicator, you strike. The advantages of using the French leader methods are:
1. The lighter leader allows very sensitive fishing for spooky fish
2. Flies can be presented with no drag and therefore look natural
3. Exact casts which can be repeated rapidly
4. It allows your flies to travel at a specific depth
5. It is high-contact fishing, where you see and feel every strike
Does it work for salmon?
While guiding on Iceland’s Laxa I Kjos I have used this technique while teaching clients and proved it is also highly effective when fishing for salmon and sea trout. Even after the first few casts, I began to get very excited as I could anticipate how effective this technique would be from seeing the salmon’s reaction. The crystal-clear water of the Icelandic rivers lends itself well to this method.
We found it particularly effective during the latter part of the season when the water levels are low. Salmon by this stage have seen numerous flies presented in a standard fashion, and the French nymphing technique was highly effective. You can’t cast extremely long distances, but by sneaking up behind the fish, it is possible to get very close to them. I suspect it will not work as well on the large deeper salmon rivers, but as long as you can find some pockets in the structure, it is definitely worth trying.
The joy of fishing in Iceland is the ability to spot these fish first. It is then easily possible to lead your flies towards them. Try to keep the fly as steady as possible and raise the flies by lifting the rod tip in front of fish’s mouth in an induced take. I have found that, usually, the cock fish that have been in the river a while ignore flies which are just swung in the current. Once you shake the flies a bit, they go crazy and will often attack the fly immediately.
Tackle setup for French nymphing for salmon
Rod
Usually the line weights used for French nymphing are in range of 2 – 4 weight with a medium or medium to fast action and a softer tip. For salmon I use a 10 foot 7 weight Hardy Zephrus AWS which I find to be ideal. When fishing for smaller grilse, I drop down to the Hardy Zephrus Ultralite 9 foot 9 inch 5 weight. For other salmon rivers a longer rod is useful for covering fish from further away.
Reel
In the case of salmon fishing the reel is not just a fly line holder. You need to invest in a quality reel with a strong drag system. Reels should be well balanced with the rod and ideally as light as possible as you are often holding the rod aloft for extended periods of time and recasting. A wide-diameter reel is recommended to avoid a tangled leader. I use the Hardy Ultralight CADD 5/6/7 and 4/5/6 which is beautifully light yet has a powerful drag system.
Backing
Fly line backing is something most freshwater fly fishermen don’t see very often but in the case of French nymphing for salmon fishing it is often needed. As you are using a very soft and gentle approach be sure your reel is loaded with enough backing in a case you hook a fish that makes long runs. I always use an old fly line directly connected to the backing and on the
other side to French leader.
French leader
I personally use a tapered monofilament leader of 10 metres in length. The diameter is in range of 0.55mm – 0.30mm (0.27mm). If you buy a tapered leader that has the thinnest part at 0.22mm (usual shop bought product) the best way is to cut off the first few centimetres and use just the stronger part (8 – 9 metres should be enough). Fishing a 10 foot rod together with 30 foot leader will keep you in effective distance from fish.
Indicator
The indicator is simply a piece of two-tone indicator tippet (0.27mm). The colour should be chosen according to individual taste, whatever you are able to see in different conditions (sunset, sun, twilight, rain). I would say the most common one is the two-tone fluorescent tippet with pink and chartreuse. I always use a blood knot to connect the fluorescent indicator to the French leader. Connection between the indicator and tippet is always the most critical part of the set up. For that reason, always be sure that your knot is well tied.
Tippet
There is always a possibility while fishing with the French leader to use really thin tippet (0.080.14mm). I use that strength only for stream fishing for smaller brown trout or grayling. Salmon is obviously a different situation but still you can use much thinner tippet than usual. While experimenting we have used 0.24mm tippet (10 lb approximately). Combined with this technique, it is still a strong enough tippet material to handle most of the situations. I almost always use one point fly and one dropper to get flies straight on the bottom.
Flies
The same types of flies are used for the French
nymphing technique as for Czech or Polish nymphing. The most weighted fly is always the point fly as it will help you to cast more easily with more precision. Tungsten nymphs for salmon are a bit different from other tungsten flies for brown trout or grayling. Usually, the size of beads for trout and grayling is in range of 2– 4mm. The size and weight of flies always depends on water conditions, but the most common set up for salmon will be 5.5mm tungsten as a point fly and at 3.5mm tungsten
nymph as dropper. I can highly recommend flies tied on jig hooks to avoid getting stuck on the river bottom every time.
COLLECTING FISHING RODS
Collecting fishing rods doesn't actually present any great difficulties. It's enough to go to some flea markets
and you will always find some fishing rods. The only problem is how “serious” your form of collecting becomes. The choice is vast, and one
criterion, for example, could be to look for fishing rods made of the same material (sweet bamboo, Bambu refendu, Greenheart, fibreglass,
Conolon), or rods for a similar type of fishing, or belonging to a specific period.
In these cases, the costs are affordable and there
is no risk of divorce; the trouble starts later, usually when you're looking for fishing rods produced by the same company or manufacturer.
If you then fall in love with some good craftsman, that's it, the addiction is difficult to cure.
Personally, I always recommend starting slow-
ly, studying the sector well and not venturing into purchases without having the right skills. Remember that in collecting there is no mercy for others, and nothing gives more satisfaction to an expert collector and trafficker than giving you a "rip-off." This term indicates a rod that can be rebound, repainted, with ferrules arranged as best as possible, with non-original replacement loops, redone writings, etc., all elements that make your purchase worth close to zero.
Another piece of advice that I feel like shouting out is, your rod is not an investment! If you have money to invest, buy something else but not fishing rods. You will immediately realise this when you try to resell your antique rod. Once you have chosen the type of rods you want to collect, I recommend a rack display in which to store them. There is nothing sadder than seeing a row of PVC pipes with rods inside
that you have to extract from their cases every time you want to admire them. If you don't have space for a rack, hang them in a wardrobe, inserting the two thinnest parts into the case, taking care not to tighten the laces too much. I have seen many beautiful rods with the tip having taken the shape of the handle because this precaution had not been taken.
At this point, the question that must be asked is the following: do I buy rods that I occasionally use for fishing or just showcase pieces that I admire and don't use? This is a personal choice. I'm just saying that buying a fishing rod and not using it, no matter how beautiful or expensive it is, is an affront to the manufacturer. My friend Giorgio Dallari, a great manufacturer of briar reels, often had this problem, and when a customer said the famous remark "they are so beautiful that it's a shame to use them," he surely would provoke some bad words from Gi-
orgio. Furthermore, by using these relics, you will immediately realise how superfluous it is to have the latest model of a carbon rod.
An ancient rod, made of Greenheart or bamboo or another material, still has many emotions to give: in the fishing action, in the beauty of a photo with a beautiful fish next to it, and in the small gestures when assembling it or putting it back in the case. These are the great pleasures of fishing. Treat it well and one day it will give you one last emotion, when you give it to your child.
Walking down to the Faro River from camp after breakfast, Stu, Ed, the game scouts, and I were excited about the day ahead. Stu and Ed had already spent 10 days exploring the area, and I was up for our second recce. It was March 2018. Sight fishing to tigerfish and yellowfish were high on the agenda, but the allure of massive Nile perch on fly was the proverbial carrot we had been chasing for close on a decade. Ed and Stu had already had a taste. A guttural grunt from the riverine thicket brought us back
to the present. A young lioness had been hanging around camp the last few days (most likely hunting the kob that make the relative safety of camp their preferred feeding area), and we had obviously disturbed her morning sleep-in. Giving her a wide berth we continued down to the sandy banks of the Faro. Welcome to fly fishing at Gassa Camp, Cameroon. Before the flyfishing, here is some important background information to put things into context:
Except for Gabon, the Nile perch, or one of its
cousins, is found in most river and lake systems in tropical Africa north of the equator (and those parts of the Congo and Nile basins south of the equator). It is a range of about eight million square kilometres within 25 African countries. The Nile perch evolved as a riverine species and can grow to over 200lb; it is one of the world’s freshwater giants.
The rivers of the Sahelo-Sudanian Savannah Zone offer classic Nile perch habitat, and these are water courses that run high and murky during the rainy season and then almost stop
flowing between deep, clear pools during the dry season. The geographical and seasonal conditions make perch extremely vulnerable to overfishing by an exploding human population which is among the poorest in the world, a population that, in order to survive, has reduced most of the Sahelo-Sudanian savannahs to altered landscapes where more than 95% of the biomass of indigenous wildlife and fish has been removed. Beyond that, the vegetation and soils have been transformed and the integrity of interconnected and interdependent ecosystems
significantly compromised. Conservationists currently label much of the savannah habitat of which Nile perch are a part as so severely impacted as to be termed endangered to critical. The level of habitat degradation and depletion across an unimaginably large swathe of Africa is hard to comprehend without witnessing it firsthand.
Based on our work in Africa, we are of the opinion that it’s unlikely that there are more than five relatively intact river basins in Sahelo-Sudanian Africa. By intact we mean areas
where all of the ecosystem services are fully functioning. For example, all the big and little things that keep a system healthy, like having a significant hippo population to ensure a constant flow of nutrients from the land to the water, and where soil organism (e.g. earthworms) bioturbation ensures maximum rainfall retention and groundwater recharge to maintain dry-season flows etc. In short, where all the integral, living, organic, and physical elements are present and interacting. Class ended.
Back to the fly fishing. What makes this fishery so spectacular, and a favourite amongst our guides and adventurous guests, is the diversity of fly fishing opportunities, and the manner in which we fish it. All fishing is done on foot, in a truly remarkable wilderness area, home to an incredible array of West African savannah fauna and flora. It is a one-of-a-kind, multi-species destination. Each day, anglers head onto the water with 5, 8 and 12 weight rods. The high sunlight times
are spent sight fishing to tigerfish, small perch, Niger barb, alesties, and labeo species, and as the sun arcs lower to the horizon, we move our attention to Nile perch.
Although we fish to three distinct species of tigerfish in the area (H. vittatus, H. brevis, and H. forskahlii), it is the brevis which grows the biggest, and the focus of our attention. H brevis is the West African tigerfish, reaching over 30lb in size. It is a longer and more slender fish compared to its cousin the H. vittatus. It seems more
delicate due to its smaller shoulders and jaw. However, its long muscular body makes this the most acrobatic of all tigerfish we target, and arguably the toughest to bring to hand. With trophy fish making numerous back to back six foot leaps and fierce head shakes from the get go, we fondly (if not somewhat frustratingly), refer to them as H. brexit, for their ability to make miraculous escapes time and time again. One of our favourite ways to fish them is sight fishing on the shallow sandbanks where they
lay up in shoals of similar sized fish. Stalking up to the fish, delivering a long cast with a small un-weighted baitfish pattern, and watching the fish jostle for the fly as they tear across the shallows is one of many highlights when fishing the Faro.
Next in line, while the sun is high, is the Niger barb. This is a local yellowfish species that reaches well over 15lb and has stamina and speed in equal measures to their extremely finicky tastes. Their big shoulders, deep body, and
oversized fork tail mean that even fish around 4lb are a real handful. Although the smaller fish are regularly fooled into taking a well presented dry or nymph, it is the trophy adults that really get the heart racing. Sight fishing to Niger barb delivers the joy, frustration, and jubilation, that all super spooky and selective fish bring. Fine tippets, delicate casts and nail-biting fights are the name of the game here.
Nile perch are, however, what bring most anglers to Gassa Camp, and it is when the light
gets low that we really start focusing our attention on these behemoths. Attaining weights of over 200lb, these apex predators are an iconic symbol of West African waterways. One metre fish are the magic mark, and we and our guests have been fortunate to land fish up to 162cm, well over 130lb.
Fly fishing to Nile perch is a series of paradox. Twelve weight rods, and big flies, but short casts and eats often at your feet. Massive eats and blistering runs needing full drag and nim-
ble feet one minute, followed by slack drag and controlled freedom the next. Fly fishing to Nile perch in low light periods also brings with it a flood of new sensory
experiences. The smells and sounds of the African savannah and river are allowed to catch up, and often surpass, what you have visually taken in during the course
of the day. One’s feel of the cast, and fly as you strip it through the water, is amplified. It is a meditative experience for the most part, disrupted by sudden periods of
utter carnage.
The take of a Nile perch is like no other freshwater fish. It is not electric like a tigerfish, or delicate like a largemouth yellowfish for instance. It is best described as solid and abrupt.
More like a GT take. Nile perch are not feeding on the sly and looking to get away before drawing attention to themselves. They simply engulf what they want, when they see it, if they feel like it, and carry on their way. So, when you feel the heavy stop to your line, you can be forgiven for thinking it’s a snag. It will be
for an instant only; once the fish feels the prick of de-barbed steel, and unfamiliar constraint of being attached to 1mm leader, they soon show their disdain through blistering runs, often back into structure (leaving severed leaders and fly lines), and thunderous head shakes. If you can keep your nerve in the initial stages of the fight, apply maximum pressure when you can, but allow the fish its space when it needs it.
Move up and down the river keeping as close to the fish as possible, and as your guide keeps you focused, you have the chance to lay your
hands on one of Africa’s aquatic giants. It is a fish that to us represents far more than a fly fishing quarry.
In a fly fishing context, it’s only in healthy habitat that an angler is going to have quality fishing. When everything aligns, casting with Africa’s sights and sounds flooding the senses in one moment and being painfully schooled in a Nile perch’s brutal hit-and-run in the next, is truly a one-of-a-kind fishing experience.
Healthy environments are isolated and dwindling before our eyes. Our journey to this
region in Cameroon, and our subsequent operations, are an opportunity to experience and preserve a piece of Africa that is an extremely rare representation of how vast areas of the continent used to be. It’s literally time-travel, a last-chance-to-see how it once was. Crucially, it allows us, and visiting fly fishermen from around the globe, the chance to contribute meaningfully to the conservation of this spectacular habitat and fishery. African Waters’ senior guide, Greg Ghaui, summed up very eloquently when he said:
‘It looks like we have discovered one of the first great West African fisheries just in time to save one of the last’.
ART IN FISHING:
An artist, graphic designer, and photographer by profession, Roland was born in Belgium in 1960. He is married to Sophie, a French nurse. He is a passionate fly fisherman, especially in tropical saltwater.
I grew up in Belgium and after my studies, my wife and I lived in Montpellier (France) for nine years. Having relatives in the Seychelles we moved there and stayed six years. Unfortunately, we had to leave and our family settled back in Namur, the French speaking part of Belgium in early 2003.
I started drawing and fishing as a kid. I studied graphic design, arts, and photography at Saint-Lucas in Antwerp (Belgium). Macintosh computers had only just started to appear. As students, we did everything by hand (sketching rough lay-outs with markers, drawing letters and logos with rOtring pens and ink…). This required true artistic skills, unlike graphic design nowadays. We also had outdoor drawing and live nude classes, which I liked a lot and was quite good at.
At the beginning of my career, I included lots of illustrations and hand-made graphics in my designs but as graphic software became more and more efficient (Photoshop, Illustrator), eventually most work got done with the mouse.
Today, I still offer my services as a freelance graphic designer and photographer but since 2017, after spending many years working on Mac, I turned back to painting. Feeling the
ROLAND HENRION
need for authenticity and true emotions which advertising and, unfortunately photography too, fail to give. So I bought myself a set of brushes, canvasses and paint tubes. I also read a couple of books and watched "how-to" videos.
My favourite medium is acrylics on canvas. Sometimes, the quick drying material upsets me, but on the other hand, it is quite useful when you can superimpose colours without mixing. This is very pratical with sunsets: when blues and oranges/yellows mix, you get green and there is definitely no green in the sky! I do use retardants and flow improvers, and a mix of the two, to slow down the drying process. Many people think I paint with oils.
When I broke my foot in March 2020 and had to stay in bed for six weeks, I picked up watercolour again, after more than 20 years! The feeling was good and the works sold pretty well, encouraging me to keep doing it. I now often do a watercolour sketch before starting a large canvas. Drawing or painting a subject requires keen observation. This helps to get more aquainted with it and pick up important features and details. The fast watercolour technique has a positive influence as it loosens up my style of painting on canvas.
As a fly fisherman, I have an intimate link with water. My subjects are inspired by the sea, the sky and clouds above, working from photographs and plein-air sketches made during my travels (Ireland, Scotland, Seychelles, Cuba, Azores, Spain, France). Nevertheless, the human body remains the most interesting subject
ROLAND
to paint. All subjects inspire me, flowers and still-lifes excepted, but I am mostly fascinated by light and shadow play. I am a great fan of Edward Hopper, Rik Wouters and Joaquín Sorolla, to name a few.
I'm slowly heading towards retirement as a designer and working hard to switch to fulltime painting and making some kind of a living!
For my paintings and watercolours, I always choose the best pigments on the market: Winsor & Newton, expert quality. I like to paint on pure linen canvas and Arches medium grain paper which ensures stable colours for years to come. When travelling, I always carry a small set of watercolours for quick sketches.
You can contact me for commisioned work; landscapes, fishing scenes, and portraits (watercolours and large format canvas). Please visit my online art gallery.
Roland Henrion roland@henrion-art-design.comPhone: +32 81 400 554
Cell: +32 494 92 34 30
https://www.henrion-art-design.com
https://www.facebook.com/roland.henrion/
Instagram: roland_henrion_artist
CHALK:
Bedrock of Fly Fishing
Never work with children or animals. As filmmakers, this age-old piece of advice has been echoed throughout our careers. As we prepared to embark on a journey to capture a mayfly hatch along the River Dun, the weight of this advice hung over us. Because of a busy schedule, we only had one day to capture the spectacle. We were basically rolling the dice and praying to the fish gods that everything would go swimmingly.
This marked the beginning of our filming venture for ‘Chalk: Bedrock of Fly Fishing’ a feature-length exploration into the rich history, present, and future of England's chalkstreams and their profound impact on the sport of fly fishing.
On that initial day of filming, we found ourselves perched by the riverbank, greeted by an eerily calm surface. The trout seemed equally unenthused, lurking beneath the water. What is a chalkstream movie without a
mayfly hatch?
These insects are so intrinsically linked with the history of dry fly fishing and the abundant ecology of chalkstreams that this sequence was to be a keystone in the whole structure of the film. We shot all morning, by lunch time we had endless hours of footage of fish in the water, flowers growing on the bank, buzzing bees… but zero mayflies. Then around mid-afternoon we started hearing rises in the sheltered bends.
Mayfly started emerging, swimming up
from the silted depths where the nymphs had grown for the past couple of years. They were breaking the surface and letting their wings unfold, their abdomens were inflating as they breathed air for the first time. It was amazing to watch, and the rate at which they were hatching soon outstripped the trout and grayling’s ability to eat them. Within an hour there was a thick cloud above us, the alder trees were covered and there were still more pouring upwards from the stream. It seemed a good omen for the project we were em-
barking on.
Chalk was the brainchild of Fishing TV’s Ed Burgass and Fishing Breaks’ Simon Cooper. We, as Chalkstream Fly, had done a few promotional videos for Simon; mainly to get access to some of his incredible beats (a win win), so when they approached us to make the film we jumped at the opportunity.
The overwhelming response during the funding phase, where our £15k target was up to five
thousand pounds on the first day alone, spoke volumes about the potential success of the project. We were in Wales at the time (fishing, obviously) and looked at each other wide eyed… “guess we are making a feature film then!”
During the funding process, we partnered with Aardvark McLeod and Wychwood, who sponsored part of the film. We had six months ahead of us of travelling the country to some of the best fly fishing spots in the world - not
the worst job for two people obsessed with the sport. "Chalk" was set to trace the historical significance of these rivers and their influence on contemporary fly fishing practices.
We would document the fly design and technique pioneers - Halford, Skues, and Sawyer. In addition to exploring the renowned rivers and their beats, our journey led us to some lesser-known tributaries, each contributing to the rich chalkstream landscape.
Such an important part of what makes England’s chalkstreams unique is the geology. Without that deep chalk bedrock the surface habitat would not exist and we were privileged to have someone as knowledgeable and eloquent on the subject as Shaun Leonard, Director of the Wild Trout Trust, to open the film and speak on this subject. Understanding from him the prehistoric story of how this land was formed was fascinating.
In Shaun, as with many of the people who collaborated with us on Chalk, we found a partnership that would lead to many projects outside of the initial film and we still work closely with the WTT to this day.
Soon we had to move from geology, biology and theory to practice. It was time to catch some fish! The Itchen was a perfect place for Simeon Hay to host Mark, one of the film’s backers, through a reflective sequence which
showcased the meditative state that dry fly fishing during an olive hatch produces. Wading upstream between ranunculus and starwort to target individual sighted fish one target at a time is for many the epitome of this world.
Peter McLeod and Alex Jardine were to demonstrate the art of nymphing. A dark art in some social circles but an incredibly important part of the fly fishing story. During filming we got to work with a lot of anglers, and none
were better at getting a fish to take a fly on cue than Alex and Peter. They traced the history of Skues and Frank Sawyer and we were able to highlight the intricacies of sight fishing in these rivers—a technique not only beneficial for our filming but also instrumental in understanding trout behaviour and its role in the evolution of fly fishing tactics.
While chalkstreams may appear to many as purest nature in its most concentrated and vis-
ceral form the fact remains that they have been shaped by man for agriculture, milling and industry over hundreds of years. They have weirs and sub-flows, feeders and irrigation. To assist the river in attaining and maintaining its habitat the rivers have had a constant ally over generations in the form of river keepers. Passing knowledge down, these dedicated custodians know how to maintain, repair, combat siltation and refine the water plants to create the habitat
which strikes the perfect balance. Never overgrown and constricted but also not barren and open. We filmed with Neil Swift at Mottisfont and John Hall at Broadlands to see firsthand this work and hear their valuable opinions on how best to protect these places from future threats. We also met Charles Rangeley-Wilson on a completely different Chalkstream in rural Norfolk, the Nar, where he had sampled a prototype vision for future restoration of the wilder rivers.
This involved dropping trees into the river to create robust and varied flows that would scour and clean the gravel in a self-maintaining way as the rivers that existed before human interference would have done. This experiment has since expanded massively and we have filmed again with Charles for our latest film release coming out this year, which shows this technique and more being used to great effect to restore a larger part of the Nar, previously in dire
need of intervention and help, which now is flourishing as both a nature reserve and fishery. Chalk: Bedrock of Fly fishing was a film which not only documented the places, plants and animals of these rare habitats. It also brought together the entire UK fly fishing community as throughout that summer we met and spoke to anglers between the ages of 10 and 90. We filmed in London on the Wandle where anglers spearheaded habitat restoration where it
was needed most in the country. We filmed in Yorkshire with Marina Gibson, guide, ambassador and angler responsible for introducing more women to the sport than perhaps any other and Will Robins, at the time the UK’s youngest river-keeper, who has since become a boat captain in Mexico chasing permit and bonefish.
All coming together finally for the premiere of the film in Leicester Square was clear evidence of a wide and varied community that
had effortlessly made time, funds and opportunities available for this project. We were left with a profoundly positive outlook for the future of the habitats and the sport they afford. Yes, there are certainly growing threats which face these rivers, and all rivers for that matter. We all are aware of the challenges our growing population and societal apathy can lead to regarding water quality. However, when the angling community works together across all ages and backgrounds, we can achieve great things and be the heroes that these habitats need most.
Watch the full film at www.fishingtv.com
BONEFISH IN New Caledonia
LOST IN THE PACIFIC
Often, and unconsciously, fly fishermen make unique and vital contributions to the economies and conservation efforts of small communities across the Pacific.
Over the past seven years, I have had the pleasure
and privilege of being involved in researching and establishing numerous recreational fisheries in the realm of the mighty Pacific Ocean. We are now in New Caledonia to explore bonefish fishing opportunities and train a local guide. We will be chasing Albula glossodonta, the short-jawed bonefish. Glossodonta
is perhaps the most widespread species in the Indo-Pacific, the same species that Dr Aaron Adams of the Bonefish and Tarpon Trust first identified at Aitutaki in the Cook Islands. As a highly prized sportfish species, many fly fishermen travel the world for an encounter with the grey ghost of the flats. We hope they will also
come here to Poingam.
Over the course of our first 10-day trip, we spent a lot of time testing with Ben all the things that he could later use as a bonefish fishing guide. Basic knowledge of English, hospitality, basic first aid, fly casting, and fly tying were some of the topics. The grass in front of our bungalow
was dotted with coconuts, and this area became our classroom; coconuts played the part of the bonefish our imaginary clients had come to catch. We spent many afternoons together, as Ben practiced saying the location and distance of our coconut fish and the direction in which they were swimming. Our 10 days together
ended too soon and we left Ben to get on with work. We will be back in 14 months.
The importance of recreational fishing for Pacific Islanders
Aside from the negative effects of climate change and sea level rise, the Pacific Islands face a number of other challenging circumstances hindering the development of recreational fisheries.
Commercial investment has generally improved the impact on these islands and their infrastructure; however, large offshore commer-
cial fishing operations have contributed to the decline of fish stocks that have historically been part of the local diet and a source of income for local fishermen. While tourism sees an increase in visitor numbers, these operations tend to be owned offshore and employ low-paid, largely unskilled and mostly female labour. Food, drinks, entertainment, tours, and even the treats in the gift shop with its local "Made in China" souvenirs have little to no effect on the local population. All in all, life is changing very rap-
idly in the Pacific and if you are a young person looking for meaningful work, the situation is very difficult.
The impact of fly fishermen
Fly fishermen play a unique and vital role in the economies of these islands. Let's face the fact that by necessity, fly fishermen are often a thrifty bunch. After paying for an international airline flight, there is rarely much left to book
extremely expensive establishments.
My recommendation for getting the most out of any trip is to immerse yourself in the culture and soul of the Pacific, skip the big whitewashed corporate hotels and mix with the locals instead.
This is pretty much the profile that fits small owner-operator businesses perfectly.
Fly fishermen tend to stay in cheaper accommodation, purchase produce grown and prepared by locals, and buy locally made souvenirs. And the guides they fish with often rely on other local businesses, from the cousin who does outboard repairs to the aunt who bakes local bread. And of course, if you run the local bar or bottle shop, you're probably doing well, too. In short, fly fishermen do a great job in supporting local businesses by investing money directly into local economies.
An important fact to keep in mind when heading to the Pacific is that it doesn't take much to make a big difference.
Anglers who refuse to use a local guide, even for a day or two, not only miss out on prime fishing opportunities, but also take away vital revenue from the very operators who make this fishing possible in the first place.
New Caledonia
After helping to establish Ben's professionalism, our crew returned, this time ably assisted by our cameraman. With 50 days of full driving under his belt, Ben has now taken possession of his new boat, an extremely robust 6-metre alloy vessel. It is the typical Cook Islands design, with a long front bow and a deep V to make the transport of fishermen easy around the lagoon. It features a notable platform at the front. After spending a lot of time bouncing around in small
boats, I'm pleasantly surprised at how smoothly it rides. On this trip we took long outings in the lagoon and twice got caught in bad weather on the way home, and Ben's boat was the most seaworthy I've ever had the pleasure of testing.
The destination
The Poingam area of New Caledonia is located at the northern tip of Grande Terre and requires a five-hour drive from the airport. I would suggest considering breaking the trip for
an overnight stay halfway. You could then pop into the jungle and fish for the black bass that inhabit some of the local rivers.
The food is nothing short of exceptional, a typical French three course meal prepared each evening, accompanied by plenty of good French wine and local produce. The packed lunches are the best I have ever tried: they are generous, tasty and complete.
Since the 7th July 2008, approximately 15,000 km2 of the lagoon has been recognised as a
UNESCO world heritage site and Poingam is part of it. These lagoons are of exceptional natural beauty. They feature an enormous diversity of coral and fish species and a continuum of mangrove habitats, with the world's most diverse concentration of coral reef structures. With protection, management and sustainable development, I believe New Caledonia has enormous potential for some of the greatest recreational sport fisheries on the planet.