H2O Magazine UK autumn 2024 by H2O MAGAZINE

MONGOLIA / BISON OF THE FLATS: THE BUMPHEAD PARROTFISH / COLOMBIAN FISHING TRIP / EL RINCON 2024

THE FIRST FISHING CLUBS IN THE USA / INTERVIEW: ENRICO PUGLISI / ART IN FISHING: ERIC CLARK JACKSON DRY FLY ONLY / PEACOCK BASS IN AMAZON

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CAPRA

Peter McLeod, Gerhard Laubsher, Duncan Hall, Olly Thompson, Riccardo De Stabile, ENRICO PUGLISI, Eric Clark Jackson , Bob Sanders

Bertani” Cavriago (ITALY)

Alex Giorgio

The autumn issue of H2O Magazine UK comes as we wind down our main freshwater seasons in the northern hemisphere and thoughts begin to turn the . At home, the main mayfly spectacle has drawn to a close but with good water reserves we expect a wonderful summer and autumn. We, once again, have collated a broad range of articles from around the world and through the ages which we hope will interest and inspire you all, and we hope that the new online platform will provide a better magazine experience.

We open this autumn issue with an article about the Mongolian wilderness, before exploring the salt flats. A piece on fishing on the River Test in the south of England makes us ponder, in a world of very long rods where you fish with line, nymphs and lots of lead, we like to talk about the atmosphere of dry fly and upstream fishing. This issue comes out as we are preparing our trips to Patagonia, a place we now consider a second home. This year too we will be in Lake Strobel and its fantastic tributary Barrancoso for the whole month of November and December. Another destination that is looking very good for the European market is the Amazon fishing for Peacock Bass and some other very interesting fish. The first groups have just returned and in January we will be fishing on the Rio Marie for the infamous Peacock Bass, the giants of this tributary of the Amazon River. An interview with Enrico Puglisi tell us about his company and his new lodge in Mexico. Below we publish the calendar of events for 2025 where you can find us with our stand. The 2025 calendar is not yet definitive, but this is the way.

• 17,18 January Saint Etienne - France

• 24,25,26 January: New York flyshow - Edison

• 25,26 January: Charleroi - Belgium

• 7,8,9 February: Pescare show - Rimini - Italy

• 7,8,9 March: Aquafish, Friedrichshafen, Germany

• 14,15,16 March: Sportfiske – Stockholm, Sweden

• 5,6 April: EWF - Monaco, Germany

BISON OF THE FLATS: THE BUMPHEAD PARROTFISH

Of all the species that fly fishermen target on the flats I think the bumphead parrotfish might just...

EL RINCON 2024

Each year, like clockwork, I find myself drawn southward, deep south, to Argentina. A pilgrimage of sorts, driven by the primal call to dance with...

INTERVIEW: ENRICO PUGLISI

I was born and raised in Sicily and learned to fish while watching my father catch dinner. No catch and release those days in the Mediterranean...

FLY FISHING THE ENGLISH CHALKSTREAMS

This article might seem like a piece by someone nostalgic for dry fly fishing as it was once practiced in Italy, and where it is still commonly practiced in the south...

8 MONGOLIA

Following an adventure in pursuit of taimen, it’s hard to fathom that a place like Outer Mongolia still exists...

COLOMBIAN FISCHING TRIP: DUCAN HALL

Ping ping....please leave me alone I wished, as more and more enticing messages of fishing trips...

THE FIRST FLY FISHING CLUBS IN THE USA

Many fishing pictures show solitary fishermen, but most do not. Most show us good friends fishing together...

ART IN FISHING: ERIC CLARK JACKSON

Professional wildlife artist Eric Clark Jackson originally went to school to study marine biology, but discovered...

PEACOCK BASS IN AMAZON

They call the Marie River “Rio de Gigantes” or “River of Giants” and the 500-mile long tributary of the Amazon River seems to produce the trophy size peacock bass to...

MONGOLIA

Following an adventure in pursuit of taimen, it’s hard to fathom that a place like Outer Mongolia still exists. It’s just you, the wilderness, and the chance to catch the fish of a lifetime...

Mongolia is not a destination that often springs up on one’s travel list, but perhaps it should. Many know little about the world’s second largest land-locked country beyond stories of Genghis Khan’s empire, the Gobi Desert or the Mongol Derby. It is however a wonderful country, rich in history, surrounded by beautiful and extreme landscapes, with friendly people and, most importantly, home to a big fish called the taimen.

My first trip to Mongolia was one of mixed success; inexperience and bad river conditions made the fishing tough, but I saw glimpses of a truly incredible destination. Drifting down the river, it was difficult to remove my eyes from the stunning and imposing cliffs on one side and rolling plains on the other. The river changed with each twist and turn from turbulent, rocky whitewater to placid and wide, open pools.

As with any new destination and species, questions abound: Where do the fish live? What do they eat? How fast and deep should I fish? The list goes on. For many species there is a set of rules that can be applied to increase success, but with taimen these parameters are wide-ranging and hard to narrow down into a list of ‘dos and don’ts’.

At the end of this first trip, as I packed down my kit in the traditional ger tent accommodation on the river, I knew that I was leaving with more questions than answers. I had tamed just one taimen that week, a small one at just under 10lb, and had moved only a few others. Had the trip been a failure? Not at all; I was hooked! The fish I had seen, and the explosive takes combined with the breathtaking steppe wilderness... I just knew I had to go back. Little did I know that less than a year later I would find myself standing beside that same beautiful river. This time, though, I had a game plan. In the time away from the river I had had a chance to think about my approach, the types of water where we found fish and what seemed to trigger them. I almost felt prepared.

The taimen can be likened to many species from salmon to giant trevally but ultimately, they are individual. They are ferocious eaters that spend most of their time sat in deep pools minding their own business. However, when they are hungry, they are marauders that will move through the river in singles and in packs in search of anything that vaguely resembles food.

When a fish only has a short feeding win-

dow, fussy eating does not really come into it. With temperatures in winter plunging as low as -50°C in Mongolia and the rivers freezing for several months, this leaves only a few short months for the taimen to feed and spawn. Small taimen like to eat large stonefly nymphs, grasshoppers and tiny baitfish, but the big fish prefer grayling. There are large numbers of grayling in these waters, and they offer the perfect snack. In addition to the grayling, taimen will rarely

pass up an opportunity to eat any other sizeable meal, including rodents and birds. For the return visit I felt more prepared; I had packed two 9ft 9wt rods for the taimen and a lighter 9ft 5wt for the lenok and grayling. I had loaded wide arbour reels with strong drags and plenty of backing capacity – one with a floating line and the other a type 3 sinker. Leaders were kept simple: 9ft 20lbs tapered leaders for taimen and 9ft 8lbs tapered leaders for the lenok

and grayling. Whilst I knew the camp would provide flies, I had worked furiously in the months prior making up new concoctions. Bits of foam, feather and fur had been strapped and glued to strong hooks and my bag was now full of fishing tackle with just enough room for a couple of changes of clothes.

On the first day of fishing, I headed down to a beautiful, clear and shallow run. Whilst not prime taimen water, there were a couple of big boulders, and I thought the water around them might be a place a passing taimen would sit in. The two other anglers were still grilling the guide, Tulga, for taimen information as I made my first few casts. After each swing I took a few steps down until I was in a prime position to cover the slack behind a big rock mid-river.

I made the cast, the fly landing just past the rock. It first dragged up the current before zipping downstream through the slack. Without warning, the water erupted. A reddy-brown monster sprung from its lie and crashed through the surface. I watched as my gurgler disappeared from view. Just a second or so later I felt the line pull tight and all hell broke loose.

I could hear the calls from the guys behind –even at over 100 yards away they had seen the fish hit the fly. The taimen, cartwheeling across the surface, then stuck its nose down and went on a searing run to the far bank. Backing now out of the rod, I was forced to follow. Keeping the pressure on fully, there were two or three occasions when I was convinced, I was wrapped round a rock, but to my amazement this dead stop was purely the fish’s own power. By this point, Tulga had joined me in the river and was positioning himself to net the taimen. Each time the fish saw him it changed direction, and a couple of times it made nerve-jangling head shakes on the surface. Tulga picked his moment, scooped under the fish and I watched as it folded safely into the net.

Bringing the fish into the shallows, I stood, unable to speak, hands trembling just looking at this immense fish. A true predator, it had a large head for swallowing big food, a thick wrist and a large powerful tail capable of propelling its sleek body at an alarming rate.

We measured the fish quickly, keeping him in the water between a quick couple of photos, and slid him back into the river, watching as the red shape faded into the clear riffled water. The taimen measured an incredible 48" (123cm) and we estimated it to be between 40–45lb, the equal camp record (at the time). We had only been on the water for minutes – what would the rest of the week bring?

Needless to say, I may have caught one fish, but I certainly had not cracked the code. Over the course of the week, I landed just two more taimen but induced a good number of takes. I was making progress in finding and luring these fish, and from my experiences I can now recommend three key tips:

A TAIMEN’S STRUCTURE

Like many predators, taimen like to expend as little energy as possible when hunting. They

use large boulders, trees, undercuts and so on to hide themselves before intercepting their prey. As anglers we want to look to target these areas with the fly; any form of broken flow or noticeable obstacles should be targeted, both in front and behind. Taimen, much like salmon, use the slow water around obstacles to conserve power, so be ready for the take as the fight from a fully-charged taimen can be testing.

HOW TO RETRIEVE A FLY FOR TAIMEN

Apex predators seldom look for the fittest of prey to hunt – they often single out the slowest or those crippled or injured. With this in mind, an angler should apply this thought to how they retrieve the fly. A constant stripping mo-

tion will probably entice a fish to follow but a taimen is unlikely to commit. If, however, you add pauses, resulting in a jerkier retrieve, this gives the fish a chance to hit the fly. A taimen often waits for these pauses before lashing out. Sometimes the first hit is just a stunning shot: if you do not hook up, stop retrieving and just let the fly sit there – the taimen will often swim back and gently take the fly in.

PERSEVERANCE IS KEY

Fishing for large salmonids is by no means easy, but perseverance and confidence are key to success. Casting 9wt rods and big flies is testing and it can be easy to become despondent when the fishing is slow. Much like salmon fishing,

though, if you work the water, put in the time and have the confidence that the next cast will be the one, you will begin to find taimen. Often takes will come in clusters. Whether this is due to favourable conditions or feeding patches I am not sure – perhaps I need to do some further research...

Now back in the real world, it is hard to fathom that a place such as Outer Mongolia still exists. A place where there are no roads and buildings, people live from the land and your source of light at night comes from the Milky Way. Life seems so easy and simple, there are no current affairs or politics. Just you, the wilderness and the chance to catch a fish of a lifetime.

www.aardvarkmcleod.com

PETER MCLEOD Gerhard Laubsher

BISON OF THE FLATS

THE BUMPHEAD Parrotfish

Of all the species that fly fishermen target on the flats I think the bumphead parrotfish might just be weirdest looking thing on the planet. These bluey green monsters roam in herds on a number of atolls in the Indian Ocean and Pacific and I liken them to the ‘bison of the flats’. Growing to well over 100lb these gentle monsters come with a pair of bolt croppers on the front end that bite through

coral and could easily remove a digit if you are not careful. They use this beak to crush coral heads while hunting crustaceans which they then digest to produce fine white sand. What makes them so exciting to catch? The bumphead parrotfish is the largest fish you will find tailing on the flats and they tend to move in schools of up to 50 fish with their large bluey green flags visible for miles. They are a spooky

species at the best of the times so stealth and light tackle are required, but once hooked they are incredibly powerful and tend to head for the ocean. The odds are stacked against you and it is thought that for every six to eight you hook you might land one which can be incredibly frustrating…. but that is the challenge!

When tales of these massive beasts being caught

on fly first emerged from Farquhar Atoll in the Seychelles, the fishing community was pretty sceptical that they ate crabs and that most were foul hooked – a little like milkfish. I can dismiss this as I have seen it with my own eyes, bumpies tracking off the school, tilting over sideways to eyeball a tasty morsel and then eat it. Things have also come a very long way since then on the approach and tactics when dealing

with these densely packed schools which I will come onto later.

The best place to target bumpies are huge open grass turtle flats. You will see them playing in the surf line amongst the coral heads waiting to come onto the flats and occasionally they will tail around coral bommies. If you were to hook one here your chances of landing one are very

slim as your line will be cut on the coral almost immediately. They are also fond of gravel bottoms that seems to make them relaxed, especially those found in the middle of turtle grass areas. The best spots are these massive expenses of turtle grass such as those found on Providence or Farquhar Atoll in the Indian Ocean where they can spend the day lazily moving along in the herd, grazing as they go.

The set up for bumpies are normally nine and ten weight rods. More are caught on nine weights predominantly as that is what fishermen tend to be carrying on those flats, interchanging with their 12 weight for GTs. The modern nine weights such as the Hardy Zephrus work well as they have the power to withstand such a battle but still have the finesse of presentation. If you are out to target them spe-

cifically to the exclusion of other species then I would recommend a 10 weight. They are a big powerful fish so the added backbone will be appreciated as it heads for the ocean. Any bigger than a 10 weight and the presentation will be too rough and might spook them. The only time I changed this was targeting them in Sudan when the school were all well over 100lb and they were on the edge of the reef. In this

instance not even a 12 weight could stop the fish when it ran and the entire episode ended in tears quite quickly.

On the reel front it’s imperative that you have a reel with really smooth start up inertia as when hooking these tanks on light tackle you are going to be on light tippets. Bumpies can be line and leader shy which somewhat adds

to the complicated equation. Ideally your tippets should be 40 lbs fluorocarbon. If the fish are spooky the guides will often make you scale down to as little as 20 lbs. These days we use furled leaders for bumpies for several reasons. The furled leader picks up a lot of the shock as well as providing extra abrasion resistance for the harsh habitat you are fishing in. Alternatively tapered permit leaders will suffice to a 20

lbs point minimum. Again, fluorocarbon works best as it is harder for the fish to see whilst providing a little more resistance against those big choppers.

Leaders are connected to the fly line with the standard loop to loop connection. When it comes to fly lines, floating lines only, and pick one with a long belly and gentle front taper.

Good turn over matched with as subtle a presentation as possible is the way forward.

When it comes to choosing flies to cast at these behemoths, there are two aspects that are vital. The first is a REALLY strong hook. If you think triggerfish mess up hooks its nothing compared to these guys. Owners and Gamakatsu SL12s work well. Due to their mouth

structure of beak and not much gum, hooking them is complicated, so a hook with a nice big gape helps. The second aspect is that all your flies need to have a weed guard as the areas you fish dictate you will get hooked up all the time on turtle grass or coral. The weed guard will avoid you becoming very frustrated as well as preventing you foul hooking other fish in the school. Weed guards need to be 25-30lb Masons hard mono coming back to the hook point tied in behind the eye. Weight is also key and depth of water will dictate this. Ideally a medium weight dumbbell, as the large dumbbell eyed flies will spook the fish on entry into the water. You tend to find yourself fishing in knee to mid-thigh depth water. The shallower the water, scale down the weight, common sense in saltwater anyway. In terms of patterns, white Merkin patterns and white Flexo Crabs have

proved to be the most effective. Tan works as well, but the white flies have better contrast with the turtle grass. The bumpy is a visual creature so the fly needs to pop.

When it comes to tidal phases, bear in mind the size of the fish, so when thinking about which tides are best you need to consider their need to maintain energy. These fish don’t wish to be swimming in a strong current as they will expend too much energy. Neap tides are therefore preferable and they like the slack water when they can spend lots of the time on the flats. Spring tides will require more energy to remain in the area they like. I think my favourite, if I had the choice, would be neap tides on a new moon cycle. The full moon cycle can be very good, but there seem to be times when they vanish from the flats. This could be something

to do with a spawning cycle but we still know very little about them. What we have learnt has come from guides’ time on the flats with trial and error based on observations.

When it comes to presenting the fly, a huge amount depends on your ability to anticipate where they will move to. We don’t strip the fly. The fly sits in the line they are moving in and the fisherman just maintain tension on the fly. This sounds simple, but when a school is bearing down on you and you have a current pushing across the flat, keeping in contact with the fly can be a challenge. The true skill in hooking a bumpie comes in anticipating that line of movement and putting the fly in the right spot. The guides I have fished with on Providence and Farquhar have this dialled in. I will warn you now though that bumpies can be the most

frustrating fish. You could hook many in a day and not land one to come home with your tail between your legs. Be prepared.

I remember one incredible afternoon on the east side of Providence Atoll several years ago where there were at least four massive schools tailing across this one giant turtle grass flat. We hooked many, and myself and one of the other fisherman managed to land one each, so we were ecstatic. The third fisherman with us proceeded to hook eight in succession and each time something went wrong. We followed him along the flat passing him rods with new leaders and flies rigged, a bit like a production line - to have them destroyed and passed back. We were running out of crab flies when finally, as the sun was slipping down the sky, he hooked one last fish. The battle was immense as it took us all the way to the edge of the flat before our guide finally waded out to chest depth and manged to net it. The jubilation was immense as our team returned to the mothership that night. But I digress…

So you have arrived on the flats to be greeted by big flopping bluey green tails. As we touched on earlier the approach is vital. You need to approach in the right direction and if you get this wrong it can dramatically reduce your chances of hooking one. If they are moving from the deep water to the shallow, you need to get high on the flat from the shallow section and present the fly down to them. It’s a bit like feeding a fly down stream to an ultra spooky trout. This allows the school to move up on the fly without spooking them. Essentially it is an ambush presentation. In an ideal world you want to present the fly from directly head on. Presenting from the side on means you are increasing the chance of lining them, foul hooking one, and if you do hook one it increases the chances of being cut off by another fish in the school. Think of it as trying to swim your line through a parade of wire cutters. It’s so much better to feed them head on and allow them to come up onto the fly. Often they will feed past you and frustrated fishermen will try and fish from behind. The chances of hooking one this way are very small. It’s far better to relocate and move round to the front again. You don’t want to be presenting from the wrong angle.

When the fly has been cast out to the ambush point you must let it to sink. Pick up all the slack line and just maintain tension so that you can feel if a fish picks the fly up. If you feel your fly is out of position to where the school is moving then you can strip it into position or recast, but then allow the fly to sink again. Don’t strip it over their heads or you will spook them.

You have presented the fly correctly, the fish picks up the fly and now what happens? It’s vital you remember that you are fishing a thin gauge hook on light leaders and not a GT rig, so make sure you don’t GT strip set or you will pop the leader straight away. This often happens to fishermen who have been fishing for GTs all week.

As soon as the hook is set then all hell breaks loose. The school tends to explode and move off together like the proverbial stampeding herd of bison. Clear the slack line onto the reel as if it hooks up on anything it will smash off immediately. Once the fish is on the reel and taking line, then take a minute to become aware of what is around you on the flat. This will prevent you falling into white holes or deeper water… like I have in the past! Once he is on the reel fishermen can get spooked as the fish has stripped off 150 yards of line and just keeps going. Don’t be tempted to change the drag or you will pop the leader. It’s best to set the drag tension before you start fishing and then just leave it. Occasionally fish will run into a depression or turtle grass lip and just sit there, but most of the time they run with the school and carry on running. For the first ten minutes you will have no control at all which takes some getting used to. Once the fish tires a little you need to try and separate it from the school. Your guide will head out in front to try and keep the line clear and prevent you being cut off.

The second stage commences once it is separated from the school. Keep the rod angle high at this point as with the length of line you have out, side pressure will have no impact. Once the fish is within 30 or 40 metres you can start working angles. They are incredibly powerful fish so be patient and maintain constant pressure. The third stage comes when it is time to

try and land one of these fish. It can be tense as it has normally been a pretty serious battle, especially when you have lost a few beforehand. To land a bumpy you really need a net and a big one at that! Alternatively, you can lanyard them through the beak which can sometimes require rugby tackling it on the flat. They are extremely slimy, so hard to grab and the caudal compresses providing no wrist to gain purchase on. The best way is to cradle it, but I would highly recommend you let your guide do the honours as he is going to get bullied. These fish tend to release really well as they are so strong.

The feeling of landing one of these wonderful creatures and watching it swim away again is hard to describe. I think because actually landing one proves so hard, with the odds stacked you, each fish you actually land and touch is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. It becomes a shared experienced with those accompanying you and one you never forget. Are they the weirdest fish on the planet, probably.. are they one of the coolest to land on fly… definitely…

To learn more about these extraordinary creatures and where you can go to catch one please contact our travel editor, Peter McLeod, at peter@aardvarkmcleod.com or go to www.aardvarkmcleod.com

Colombian

Fishing trip

Ping ping….please leave me alone I wished, as more and more enticing messages of fishing trips, with images of weird and oversized fish, arrived in my iPad. Roberto, or Beto as he is known is the CEO of Fish Colombia, and he knew he’d hooked me the moment I opened his posts. I hadn’t planned a return trip to the Amazon, but the fishing neurones in my brain, now in full excitatory mode, knew no inhibition. So, with the promise of a new and amazing fishing, I too became the fishing-trip seducer, and our group was formed. I was pleased to have enticed Ian, a former GP, who now runs ‘Skin Excellence Clinics’ to dismount a decade of mountain bike adventures, and once more became a piscator, and then David Lee my excellent dentist, who was relatively new to the game, also signed up with alacrity. I had fished the Brazilian Amazon, on the Kalua houseboat based in Barcelos, in 2016, and then again on the Orinoco and Tuparro river with Fish Colombia in 2020.

The fishing expedition this time was to the upper headwaters of the Amazon jungle, to Mapiri Lodge on the Guarviere and later to the Iteviare river, which both drain into the Orinoco. It had taken Beto four years to negotiate with the Sicuani indigenous Indians, to build a camp and obtain the necessary fishing rights. Added to the cost of our trip was a surcharge of US$$700 to stay on their land and fish their waters. This might sound expensive, but adding a financial payment to the Sicuani people, and a value to their unspoilt primary Amazonian jungle, may help in its preservation. I hoped so, at least. It’s always exhausting travelling to these far-reaching destinations, and this one probably capped them all. The outbound flight on Avianca from London was relatively straight forward, and with 36 hours spare we looked around Bogota, visited a few museums, and did the city cycle tour. The following day we took a short flight along with Tremor, an American fly-fisherman who joined us, to San Jose and met up with Diego our ex-

cellent Chilean guide. At the nearby dock we squeezed into our small boat for the next eight hours, motoring at high speed, downstream to the camp. Fortunately, after three hours we had a brief re-fuel stop at Mapiripán, a tiny fishing village with a friendly single bar.

I wandered into the back of the bar with Ian, where we were

puzzled by racks of noisy cockerels on both side of the room, weighing scales, an electronic timer and a green arena. With the help of Google translate, ‘every other Tuesday, cockfighting for bets’. Fortunately, it was Sunday, and we were soon back on the boat, for another five hours. I learnt later that there was an appalling massacre in 1997 at Mapiripán when AUC a right-wing paramilitary group had flown into San Jose and chain sawed, macheted, and dismembered a number of civilians whose remains were cast into the river. There have been countless atrocities in Colombia over the last few decades with over 200,000 killed, mostly as a result of drug related insurgencies; but much has been done since then to create peace as FARC, the left wing terror group, has for the large part been disbanded.

At the camp we were introduced to the Sicuani from their nearby village and the other two guides, Eduardo and Nick, before relaxing with a cool beer and a fine meal. The whole camp was constructed on a raised wooden platform,

to accommodate high water levels, with a communal eating area on one end, and our tents on the other. Around us was the sound of the jungle, multitudes of different insects and some of the largest moths I had ever seen. On the first evening, as I took my first river-water shower, a beautiful tree-frog leapt onto my shoulder and stayed there for several seconds, before hopping back into the jungle. Perhaps a good fishing omen.

Although there are thousands of fish species in the Amazon basin, most of our fishing targeted peacock bass and payara, with the occasional pacu if we were lucky. We did try bottom fishing for catfish on several evenings, but beside a redtail catfish, we only caught one stingray and four eels. The native Indians treated these with profound respect, and who wouldn’t, electric eels are potentially lethal!

Peacock bass seem synonymous with Amazonian fishing. They possess all the attributes of the perfect target fish, bright, beautifully coloured and furious fighting fish, often leaping high

into the air. There are five species of peacock bass belonging to the Genus Cihala. The Cihla temensis is the largest of these and the one most sought after by fishermen. The Amazon basis is remarkably flat and consequently rivers meander over their floodplain creating multiple oxbow lakes and lagoons. The ox-bow margins create the perfect habitat for the peacock bass, which like to reside under the jungle canopy to hoover up any small unsuspecting prey in their capacious mouths. There is a large range of lures designed for these fish, which include plugs, spinnerbait and prop baits all designed to create some sort of commotion. Personally, I only fly-fish, using either large bright shiny streamer flies or surface poppers, the latter being the most spectacular. Like all Amazonian fish they are immensely strong and feisty fighters, as they leap and splash in the water. Tremor, a fine fly fisherman, out-fished us with the peacocks, but his fly line didn’t. For some inexplicable reason, his black sink tip was severed not once, but three times by piranhas, rendering it useless.

Colombian

The novelty of these fish soon wears off! In this trip we all caught ‘big’ peacocks but they were challenging, perhaps due to the water-levels, or maybe fewer lagoons than on other trips. If the peacocks didn’t deliver, then the payara did, and the memory of them will always be entrenched in my fishing brain.

Payara Hydrolycus scomberoides, in keeping with its remarkable physiognomy, is an aggressive predator of the South American Amazonia basin. It is almost a fish of two halves, with its body that of a salmon, silver and sleek, but a head bearing extraordinary, frightening large lower teeth. The pair of teeth, over two inches long, are exposed when their jaw is open but on closure fit succinctly into the upper jaw. These fangs have given the payara a range of descriptive names, from vampire fish to sabre-toothed

tiger fish, and their use in contrast to the severing teeth of a piranha are for piercing and snatching prey in the fast flowing currents in which they are found.

They are ambush fish, feeding predominantly on piranhas and as a result of their feeding habits grow rapidly, most attaining 10-20lb but some grow much larger as the IGFA record in 1996 confirms with a 39lb specimen caught in Venezuela. They have an unsurprisingly bony skeleton and although we ate one, I would recommend following catch-and-release, and perhaps focus on the tasty shovel-nose catfish, which are a regular food source for the native Indians.

Payara can be caught using a number of methods and these include live-bait, spoons, plugs

and large streamer flies, the latter of which I use exclusively. Irrespective of the method, the lure must be fished as deeply and as rapidly as possible, focusing on the all the likely ambush areas. We caught a number of payara in the main Guaviare River and its tributaries but in certain locations the fishing was just phenomenal. The first of these was fishing the seam at the junction of the Guaviare and Iteviare, where the brown and clear water continued for some distance before mixing, and fish were clearly visible splashing on the surface. I made only four casts, and hooked three fish landing the first two, the largest of which was close to 20lb. Mid-week we re-located further upstream on the Iteviare River to a Sicuani camp and the fishing undoubtedly improved. On route to the camp, we stopped several times to fish the

hot-spots where payara would ambush prey, on one occasion my fly was hit so aggressively that I was into my backing in seconds. I had a lasting image of the fish leaping clear out of the water, and the sound of Eduardo behind me saying ‘over 20lb’ but in a flash it was gone. I was left alone in my own reverie as we continued upstream passing the first set of rapids to reach the camp at the base of a stunning cascading waterfall. For several hundred yards below the cascade, fish were splashing on the surface but despite casting all the lures we had at them, they proved hard to entice. Eduardo indicated these were pacu, the omnivorous jungle fish, with a set of molars similar to humans. The upper camp was more basic, and we were soon covered with sandfly bites, the bees were another irritation. They arrived on mass, probably attracted to our novel chemical odours, sun-cream appeared the culprit, and they were very persistent, crawling into our shoes and hats, and although not overtly aggressive, we all received stings. Ian on one occasion lost a rod and reel as he tried to swipe them away, the bees survived but the rod went overboard. It was a great experience to be with the Sicuani native Indians, who were truly friendly and resourceful. They helped in the camp, washed

our clothes, handled the boats and went beyond the call of duty when our lines were snagged. On one occasion I had hooked a payara which had taken my line under submerged branches, without a pause Walter as he was referred, stripped off, dived overboard and emerged from the water with my fish in his hands: the following day David cast a lure inexplicably 20 foot up a tree and Walter without hesitation did a Tarzan impression and climbed a jungle vine to retrieve the lure.

With two days of our trip to go we left the upper camp and stopped at the first cascade for lunch. Our lunch was always wrapped in a banana leaf, very environmental, and varied depending on what was caught the previous day. On this day was David’s fine 14lb pacu smoked overnight on the open fire. With the fine lunch washed down with an Aquila beer, I clambered aboard with my guide and boatman to fish down the last cascade.

Diego instructed the boatman to drift close to the right bank of the cascade, so that I could cast at all the likely payara holding places. My fly actually landed in an upstream counter current and I unusually witnessed the flash of silver as a payara lunged at my fly. The take was so

fast and in the blink of an eye the slack line was gone and my reel singing in resignation. All my reels are spooled with 50 yards of backing and at moments like this I always feel some reassurance that, even though I might lose the fish, I hope I will never lose my compete fly-line. I landed and released two big payara on my tied flies in short succession and totally content, sat

down, cracked open another cool Anguila beer, and wished myself happy birthday. Fishing was over for me that day; I am not a numbers fisherman, and there was no need to fish more, I just smiled at the scenery and said cheers to the pink dolphin nearby. I looked up once more at the remarkable scenery and scanned nearby othe contented faces of my fishing mates David and Ian who had both triumphed.

EL RINCON 2024

Each year, like clockwork, I find myself drawn southward, deep south, to Argentina. A pilgrimage of sorts, driven by the primal call to dance with silver-scaled giants in untamed rivers. My love affair with this kind of fishing began in my early twenties when I guided on the legendary Rio Grande, a place where thick-shouldered sea trout are the norm not the exception. Each year I return to Estancia Maria Behety to renew that bond, though now I travel with a group. This year, a single week seemed too short a stay in a land where the wind whispers secrets to those who listen, where every pool holds the promise of a

fish of a lifetime. I set my sights beyond the Rio Grande, and also explored the Rio Gallegos, a river similar yet distinct from its southern neighbour.

El Rincon Lodge fishes the upper reaches of the Rio Gallegos and would be home for the next few days. It does not pretend to be one of the lodges on the lower Rio Grande, it is a place one visits for a mix of sea trout and trout fishing, not purely one or the other. Since it was only the second week of January, I knew the bulk of the sea trout would arrive a little later, but the chance to connect this early in the season was enough to quicken my pulse.

Paul, the lodge’s manager, met me at the airport to take me to wind-carved valleys and endless skies. As we turned onto a gravel track, the lodge appeared in the distance, a modest structure with a rusty red roof that glowed warmly under a skylight bright with a patchwork of amber and scarlet. It felt like home, cozy and welcoming, a place where stories are shared be-

tween friends over bottles of Malbec.

The lodge was quiet, the season still young. Diego, the head guide, and Luciano, another seasoned guide, were my companions on the river. The first day began with Luciano on the Rio Penitente, a tributary that twisted and turned like a serpent through the landscape. Armed

with a single-handed seven-weight rod, we set out to explore its pools, each one offering a promise of action. The river’s trout were fierce and strong, and as wild as the land they called home. Though I didn’t encounter any sea trout the joy of playing each tenacious brown trout more than made up for it.

The following day, Diego took me to the main river. Though larger than the Penitente, the Rio Gallegos was still more than manageable with a seven-weight switch rod. The local trout population was as willing as the day before, which I hadn’t expected on the main river. With the Patagonian wind blowing hard at my back, I unrolled another cast, landing the

fly a foot shy of the weed bed near the far bank. Pluck, pluck, pluck. I drew my fly with staccato strips to encourage the rubber legs to kick. Slam! The line ripped through my fingers as a fish took off, leaping skyward. Another jump and the line went slack. I feared I had duffed my opportunity at a Rio Gallegos sea trout.

Further upstream, Diego pointed out a deep, flowing pool, one of the main holding spots on this part of the river. More strips and then a solid take in the lower part of the pool. This time, the fish stayed hooked, its powerful runs testing my Hardy click and pawl. I cradled the eight-pound sea trout in the shallows catching a glance before releasing him to the comforting

depths. Paul was delighted when we returned to the lodge. We chatted, chewed the fat, and drank Malbec, as one does in this part of the world.

Luciano and I returned to the Penitente the next morning, the rain pattering on our jackets as we made our way upstream. In the intimate confines of the smaller river, every cast felt personal, every tug on the line a conversation

between angler and fish. When the line tightened again, I expected another brown trout, but the weight at the end told a different story. The battle was fierce, the fish testing the single-handed rod, but when I finally brought it to

hand, I was greeted by the sight of a stunning sea trout, its scales gleaming bronze in the rain. We returned to the lodge, soaked but satisfied. In our absence, Diego had been preparing the parrilla to cook steak and chorizo. Argentina is known for great steak, and this was no ex-

ception. In fact, I’ll go out on a limb and say that the ribeye was considerably better than the steak I had weeks before at a well-known steakhouse in Buenos Aires. This place, this wild, wind-swept corner of the world, would call me back again and again. I

had been fortunate that the rivers had given up their riches but know that travelling to a place like El Rincon is about more than just fishing it is about the simple joy of being in a place where the world still feels wild and free.

THE FIRST FLY FISHING CLUBS IN THE USA

Many fishing pictures show solitary fishermen, but most do not. Most show us good friends fishing together, one perhaps handling the net for the other, or several gathered around a canoe, one with his foot on it like a hunter with a dead elephant. It has always been one of the pleasant paradoxes of fly fishing, so celebrated for its solitary pleasures, that fishermen love to get together. The growth of fishing society, in its

various formal manifestations, was rarely a fly fishing movement. It was instead a sporting movement, so that the vast majority of organization formed before 1920 were probably not even limited to fishing in general, but were “ sportsman’s” organizations. The organizations, however, had different purposes. The first movement was the social club exemplified by the various societies that grew up near Philadelphia before the Revolution. These clubs

flourished in many major population areas, so that a well-connected traveler in the 1850s could probably find like-minded sportsmen in many cities. The Cincinnati Angling club, organized in 1830 and occasionally mentioned in the “Turf register “, revealed how quickly gentleman recreation had reached the “Old NorthWest”, and similar groups could be found in most eastern cities. They fished by many means, and concentrated at least as heavily on

the eating, drinking, and companionship of a fishing outing as on the sport itself. Or perhaps that is an unfair statement, for the companionship were for them, as they still are for many of us, part of their definition or “the sport itself.” In another way, however, they may have been different a bit from us in the extent to which casting tournaments were part of the activities of many clubs; at least the sporting periodicals of the period 1870 to 1920 devoted a great deal

more attention to such tournaments than they do today. Fly casting was an important part, at times the most important part, of these tournaments. Casting Instructor and historian Cliff Netherton has documented the development of the sport of casting in two large volumes, both detailed collections of the publications and records of casting competition and technology, with extensive annotations. What is significant is the speed with which casting became an in-

tegral part of fishing society. By the 1880s and 1890s, many of the leading clubs and societies where holding informal tournaments, and there were well-publicized National competitions sponsored by the best-known clubs. The New York State Sportsmen’s club is credited with some of the first, starting on the eve of the Civil War, but within two decades or so there were many competitions under the auspices of the National Rod and Reel Association, the Fly

Fishermen’s Club of Indianapolis, the Chicago Fly Casting Club and the Golden Gate Angling and casting Club (the first California fishing club may have been the McCloud River Club, founded about 1878). The now-venerable Anglers’ Club of New York, formed in 1905, held its first tournament in 1906. The best known fishermen and fishing writers participated in these early tournaments, to a far greater extent than they do today. Seth Green, the Leonards, Edward Hewitt, Thomas Conroy, Hiram

Hawes, George Varney and others are listed in these tournaments, revealing that not only were the best-known fishing writers willing to compete, so were some of the most prominent rod makers willing to send representative to pit their products against those of the other leading builders. There was a keen competition, as well, between American and British anglers and manufacturers, a competition that probably did not decide much in favor of either. There had been organization of sportsmen aiming to pro-

tect fish and game even before the Civil War, but it was in the 1870s that the idea caught hold and became a powerful national movement. Suddenly sportsmen in cities all over the country were banding together. There were several hundred clubs by 1880 and their influence was quickly felt; they began what has been more of a century of sometimes uncomfortable coexistence between sportsmen and manager. The vast majority were not fly fishing clubs, but clubs of all kind of sportsmen.

Enrico Puglisi INTERVIEW

GoodmorningEnrico,youareconsidered asareferencepointinseafishingflytying,tell us when it all started.

I was born and raised in Sicily and learned to fish while watching my father catch dinner. No catch and release those days in the Mediterranean Sea. Mainly our fishing was with bait, but we were also trolling using chicken feathers tied to a hook which was far more effective than bait. I used to be in competition with myself to see what the most practical and effective way was to fool fish.

When I was in Sicily, I had no knowledge of fly fishing. In 1980 I moved to the USA, married my wife Karen and then it all started. In the mid 80s I discovered fly fishing for trout and got very curious about why fish eat artificial flies.

Over time, I started to read books and magazines to have a better understanding of fly fishing and fly tying. I saw a different world from the crude artificial flies made with my mother’s chicken feathers.

I continued to study trout and their behavior. Their attraction to artificial flies caught my attention. One day a fellow asked me if I knew anything about saltwater fly fishing and immediately it brought back memories of saltwater fishing at home in Sicily. My experience of saltwater fishing together with my new knowledge of freshwater fly tying opened a totally new world in saltwater flyfishing for me.

The passion was, and still is, so strong that in 1991 I opened The Practical Fly Shop. The shop was mainly dedicated to fly tying and any material available those days. In other words, I created a candy store for the freshwater and saltwater fly tiers.

Your passion has turned into a leading American company in the sale of products for seaflytying,tellusananecdotefromyourbeginnings

I started to tie flies for saltwater on the northeast coast for striped bass, bluefish and little tuna like anyone else in those days: Lefty’s Deceiver, Bob Clouser Minow and of course Lou Tabory Slab Side & Snake Fly. I consider Lou as the godfather and pioneer for the northeastern Atlantic in shore fly fishing.

Then I ran into a problem that I needed to solve in a hurry. Tying saltwater flies is time-consuming. When you are tying with feathers, bucktails, animal hairs, etc. you spend an average of 20 minutes per fly and then you catch one bluefish, and that fly gets destroyed. That wasn’t working for me. I asked myself the million-dollar question, “Is there better material to withstand the abuse of these predator fish?” That’s when I discovered the original EP® FIBERS, a synthetic fibre that withstands these toothy fish and does not absorb water. The property of these fibres is amazing. Besides their strength and waterproof quality, you can easily create the silhouette of any baitfish pattern. The translucency gives the fly the perfect appearance along with the natural movement. With these new materials, EP® Peanut Butter® was born.

All my patterns are designed to match specific baitfish and to be extremely fishable. While I feel that EP® Flies has had a definite impact on the fly tying and fishing world I’m still not satisfied. I’m still curious and I still study fish. I continue to learn about fish and their behaviours. I keep innovating designs and expanding offerings to improve fly fishing. My children tease me because I say I want to retire but we all know that I have so many ideas I’m still working on. When you create a business based on passion it’s not something you can just stop.

Weknowthatyoursoniscontinuingthe managementofthefamilybusinessverywell…

I am so happy to be able to pass my passion for fly tying and fishing on to my son Daniel. We are a family business and very proud of what we contribute to the fly fishing industry. My daughter, Vanessa, and my wife, Karen, are also involved in the company. My whole family enjoys spending time together on the water when we can. When my children were little, I spent a lot of time building this business and now I am very happy that my son wants to continue what I started.

Anynewproductsonthehorizon?

Yes, we have been working on many different new products which will both improve the ability to create new patterns and help perfect existing ones. It takes us a long time to put a new product on to the market because of the

amount of research and testing we put into it. We would also go years without adding products because we’re not interested in gimmicks or trends. We put new products out when we have new ideas and we’ve had quite a few recently.

Now let's talk about fishing, tell us about yourfishinglodgeinCampeche,Mexico

I have been fishing in Campeche for over 13 years. After a while I got tired of staying in a hotel. My wife and I restored a 240-year-old colonial home in town so all our family would have a place to stay but recently we decided to open to the public. Now we are an Orvis-endorsed lodge with four guest rooms and capacity for eight anglers. Campeche has some of the best juvenile and

baby tarpon fishing, as well as snook fishing, in the world. There are 100km of protected mangroves that you can fish year-round. Our lodge is only five minutes away from the marina by car. Once you are into the boat you basically can start to fish right away because the mangroves start right at the corner of the marina. In 30 minutes, you are into the fishing ground. We use 8wt and 9wt fly rods. My preference goes to a 9wt just in case I hook a big one as it gives me the ability for better control of these fish, especially when they run into the mangroves. We have about a dozen suggested flies to use for these juvenile tarpon. The best action is top water, so floating line is the norm. In my opinion there’s nothing like seeing fish take these topwater flies on with explosive aggression! Leaders are not complicated at all. We use a one-piece 40lb or 50lb fluoro-carbon. And don’t forget your EP flies!

There’s a lot more to Campeche than just fishing. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site, there’s nightlife, museums, a Malecon, kayaking, golf, I could go on and on. With fishing, Mayan culture, and the history of the Spanish conquistadores you never get bored. It’s always been my dream to have a lodge and I am so proud to share Casa Clorinda with the fly-fishing world.

Do you think it is an interesting destination,evenforbeginners?

Yes, it’s the perfect destination for beginners and experts. The 100km of continuous protected mangroves are a nursery ground for these juvenile and baby tarpon as well as for snook. The mangroves have countless rivers, creeks, lagoons and cuts. It is a network of water

webbed with mangroves trees. A perfect habitat for plentiful and juvenile tarpon up to 30 or 35lb. All my life I have had the passion for tarpon, there’s no question on that. I would like to give a suggestion to the beginners, before going after the big ones learn how to deal with the baby ones!

We look forward to visiting you and fishing together

Ready when you are. It will be my pleasure to host you at Casa Clorinda and have you experience fishing the mangroves of Campeche. It’s something you won’t forget.

ERIC CLARK ARTART IN FISHING:

JACKSON ART IN FISHING:

Professional wildlife artist Eric Clark Jackson originally went to school to study marine biology, but discovered it wasn’t for him. “I realized I was spending more time looking at the pictures than reading the text,” he jokes. A life in the arts beckoned, allowing him combine his hobbies of fishing, hunting and art into a successful career.

Growing up in Maryland on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay, marsh water runs in his veins. But growing up in a family of outdoor sportsmen had its challenges. “We spent a lot of time fishing and hunting on the water. But I was terrible at identifying what I was actually catching. Now, once I paint a species, it’s committed to memory.”

It’s safe to say that once you see his work, it’s committed to your memory too. “The impact is one where you say ‘I know what I’m looking at, but what am I actually looking at?’”. That reaction is in large part due to the unique process. A lot of the creation techniques involve a traditional method of artistry from Indonesia known as batik. The process uses wax and dyes, as

opposed to traditional paint pigments and brushes.

Eric has evolved the process into a number of proprietary techniques he uses in the studio to achieve the signature look in each subject. “The tools, the materials, the whole process from start to finish

is this blend of contemporary and traditional”. Some of the tools in fact are made from recycled materials, including copper wire, sheet metal and even tree branches. There’s hardly a paint brush in sight.

A masterful connection to a highly skilled

craft form is what keeps him active in the fine art world as well. “To be honest, I’d love to just trade fishing stories all day. But collectors get really drawn into how the works are made. People just don’t do these sort of things anymore.” The unique process and captivating products earn him awards and regular entry into highly competitive juried exhibitions across the United States.

Alongside his growing reputation in the fine art world, a major part of Eric’s business is in commissioning a unique, alternative form of trophy replica for clients and businesses. “An 80s fiberglass sailfish looks awesome, but for a lot of spaces, it just doesn’t fit. We offer a highly individualised, and equally amazing piece of fishing artistry that anchors any contemporary space. Plus, it holds value.”

The visual aesthetic is unlike anything else in the in-

dustry, and seeing them in person will pull you in for a closer look.

The highly refined appearance becomes even more personalised through a connection to the water itself. The dye process he uses often requires large amounts of water. For most of the fish he paints, the water comes right from the locations where fish are caught. “I practice almost exclusively catch and release fishing. I catch a fish, take some good photos, and release it. Then I’ll scoop out a few cups of water and bring it back to the studio. I use that water to mix the colors that get poured into the piece.” That connection to the water is something he continues to cherish, while exploring the rivers, and while working in the studio.

From the Water to the Wall

www.bayfibersstudio.com Leonardtown, MD 20650, USA

BAY FIBERS STUDIO - ERIC CLARK JACKSON

FLY FISHING

the English Chalkstreams

This article might seem like a piece by someone nostalgic for dry fly fishing as it was once practiced in Italy, and where it is still commonly practiced in the south of England as the only permitted fishing technique... and in fact it is.

Each time we return from a trip to the south of England, where it is taken for granted that fly fishing can only be done by going upstream with a dry fly, we ask ourselves how we managed to find ourselves fishing downstream with 11-foot rods and two heavy lead nymphs. Perhaps the need to catch more fish than our fishing partner? Maybe yes. Perhaps we still have the need to demonstrate how good we are or is it really such a fun and satisfying fishing technique that it replaces fly fishing as many have practised before us.

These are some of the thoughts that arise every time we return from Stockbridge, in the south of England, the capital of fly fishing in the Test valley. A small town on the banks of the River Test where time has stopped and where everything speaks of fly fishing.

We stayed at the Grosvenor Hotel, the home of one of the oldest and most famed fly fishing clubs in the area; the Houghton Club. For more than 200 years, it has been the main hotel and the choice of accommodation for F.M. Halford when he came to fish in the area.

On our last trip we fished in some spectacular locations, including a stretch of the River Test called Testcombe,

which ends right at the famous Mayfly Pub just a few miles north from Stockbridge. The beat features a Victorian hut which is available to anglers, with black and white fishing scenes and objects that ooze history, it was worth the trip in itself for me. It was here that the royals arrived on a private train to fish in this obsessively maintained garden. Another stretch that is hard to forget is the

Lower Mill Estate stretch, where even the car park sign has a Mayfly indicating that you have arrived in the correct location. The stretch can be fished from the bank but also waded, offers a splendid fishing experience. The good-sized brown trout, many of which are around 50cm, have fantastic colours and rise slowly to catch the mayflies and caddis that hatch in large numbers.

Thanks to the excellent organisation of Alex and Peter of the Aardvark McLeod, a local fishing agency, I was able to fish the River Itchen on a glorious stretch called East. A river I had read much about in the books by F.M. Halford and G.E.M Skues. The angler’s lodge overlooking the river and available to fishermen to rest for a few hours or to have lunch left us speechless, as did the stretch of river. Here too, the size of the

trout is important, it is not difficult to see trout rising over half a metre in length. The estate is a few kilometres long, with small channels and carriers that provide shelter to large trout amongst thick beds of ranunculus weed. Fishing is practiced by only casting upstream and with a single dry fly. Nymph fishing, at certain times of the year, is tolerated but again

only by casting upstream with a single fly. Most venues are managed by being divided into beats, smaller sections of river where two anglers can reserve the right to fish for the day. This allows for water to be rested and cultivated for the benefit of both fish and anglers alike. In October, when trout fishing closes, you can fish for grayling and the rules are a little

more flexible. In fact, in Italy we are light years away from the culture of these fishermen, both in water management and in attitude. Maybe, when we understand that it is not how many fish we catch, but how we catch them that is important then things will change... hopefully soon...

PEACOCK BASS in Amazon

They call the Marie River “Rio de Gigantes” or “River of Giants” and the 500-mile long tributary of the Amazon River seems to produce the trophy size peacock bass to prove that moniker each year.

The Marie is a true trophy fishery and not one that yields huge numbers of fish. Anglers who want to focus on the smaller butterfly peacock bass can catch quite a few two to six pounders in the near-shore cover. While the fishing can be tough for constant activity, the remote waters do yield a higher percentage of 20lb peacock bass than most every other river in the Amazon.

On my most recent trip to the Amazon, I visited the Marie for the first time. After 60 trips to the Brazilian jungle, I have fished around 40 different rivers with fairly good success. Outfitters Rodrigo Salles joined me on the venture to help me check out their trophy-focused operation. Since my interests lie in giant peacock bass, I was excited to have a crack at the Marie. It didn't take long to find out the waters did hold some big fish. Fishing with a Brazilian angler, we caught many butterfly peacocks on day one and I managed a 13lb speckled peacock. We found out at dinner that night that one of our friends on the trip caught two giants that weighed 22lb each, and there were a few others in the mid-to-upper teens taken that day.

Anglers fly directly to the mothership, called Untamed Amazon, on a chartered Cessna Caravan float plane from Manaus which takes about one hour. The river, whose headwaters are near the Colombian border, is one of the most remote peacock bass fisheries in South America. It lies on the protected Rio Marie Indian Reserve which includes the main river, its two major tributaries, and dozens of lagoons and oxbow bays. Fishing here requires a permit and approval of the Native Indian Communities (composed of the Bare, Baniwa and Tukano ethnic groups) and the Brazilian government, and Untamed Angling entered into the exclusive sport fishing agreement years ago.

“We were under strict guidelines imposed by IBAMA (Brazilian Institute of Environment and Renewable Natural Resources) the first two seasons, and they endorsed an expanded fishing zone over the past two seasons which includes the entire river drainage including all of the Marie tributaries,” says Untamed. “We are able to manage the fishery by rotating our minimal fishing pressure between six river sectors: Upper Turi, Lower Turi, Rubo River, Upper Marie, headwaters of Marie, and the Lower Marie. That's more than 600 miles of exclusive-access water, the biggest exclusive peacock bass fishing reserve in the Amazon. We have a strict catch and release policy.

The high mobility of our shallow-draft mothership combined with the ability to fly in directly via float planes to any part of our fishing reserve lets us manage the fishery better. We navigate on average about 80 to 130 miles each week to fish new waters daily.

The Marie watershed is a headwaters system of

the Rio Negro and as a result, water level fluctuations are not as severe as they tend to be on other tributaries.

That means less impact on fishing success.”

Untamed Angling also limits the fishing pressure, accommodating only eight to ten anglers per week in the eight double-occupancy staterooms onboard the 92-foot long Untamed Amazon. The spacious, three-floor live-aboard yacht with air conditioning throughout is a very comfortable mobile floating lodge offering side-by-side twin beds in each room along with private bath rooms and hot showers. Large floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows along the exterior wall of each stateroom opens up the jungle view to those inside. To take advantage of its equatorial location, the moth -

ership's roof deck is lined with solar panels to generate 100% solar power for the vessel.

The seven-foot wide aluminum bass boats had large flat decks forward and aft that were comfortable to fish from. The 90-hp outboards easily powered the boats throughout the watershed. The weather, as is usual, was hot and most anglers took a dip or two during the day in the cooler river waters off one of the abundant sandbars scattered along it.

The fishing season established on the exclusive Rio Marie Indian Reserve runs from September to mid-January. Fishing is limited to fly fishermen only during the first 12 weeks of the season and is then open to “mixed” or conventional tackle (spinning and baitcast) anglers for four weeks. Due to being later in the season, the fishing area for the mixed weeks is limited to the lower Marie River zone only, a different area to that where fly fishing is practised.

To preserve the Indian culture at the 14 communities along the Marie River system, a Native Community Fee is required from each angler. The fees are used for social projects, infrastructure development, transportation, medical and educational projects.

For complete information on package inclusions and exclusions, tackle restrictions, trip availability and costs, contact Untamed Angling at rodrigo@untamedangling.com or visit website www.marieriver.com.