Northern Argentina: The Road to El Dorado

NORTHERN ARGENTINA:

The Road to El Dorado

Last light, last cast, and last chance to find one of the big girls that we came here for. It’s the second to last day of a week-long, two-lodge, golden dorado program with Nervous Waters in northern Argentina. A country known more for Patagonia and trout fishing than for the native dorado that are abundant in the north. Here, they’re just known as the ‘national fish’. An icon in this country along the lines of Maradona or Evita; known to all and chased by local fishermen with the same fervor of any bass angler back home. We’ve found plenty of them here in “los esteros Ibera” (the Ibera Marshlands) to begin the week, but have set out for the Parana river looking for something of a different caliber.

By NICK TORRES Photos by TRAVIS BRADFORD, NICK TORRES and JAY JOHNSON

It’s the tail-end of the trip and we’re at Suinda lodge on the upper Parana river. I greet the sun with my best fish of the trip so far. A mid-day lunch and siesta, and we’re back on the boat, not having had much luck as the sun drips toward the horizon. I pull out my box of musky flies and ask our guide, Sergio, if maybe we should try one of the big bugs in hopes of tempting a different class of fish. He agrees.

With the sun already below the horizon and the last glimmers of light fading fast, I put out a decent backhand cast, throwing the entirety of the SA custom jungle tip line that we are using for depth. The fly starts swinging through the “zone” in front of the structure we are targeting: a handful of submerged boulders sitting squarely in the middle of the second largest river in South America.

I can feel the massive fly doing exactly what I want, searching and hunting like a bird dog through the water column. About halfway through the swing all hell breaks loose. It’s a grab like only a “top-of-the-food-chain” predator can give you.

I hammer down on a hard strip set and feel the fly find anchor. My adrenaline is pumping and I watch the water erupt with the last little bit of light that remains. This is the one I came here for.

Beginnings

We began our golden dorado experience almost a week prior at Pira Lodge. The first of two Nervous Waters’ lodges that we would be fishing for the week. Located on the protected Ibera marshlands of northern Argentina, in the province of Corrientes.

My adrenaline is pumping and I watch the water erupt with the last little bit of light that remains

It’s a late arrival with a warm welcome from all the staff and guides followed by a delicious meal and a couple glasses of wine before bed. My alarm sounds off at 7:00am for a full spread breakfast, on the boats by 8, and ready for the day. We’re here to test out some new Velocity fly rods and Litespeed F reels from Waterworks-Lamson. With no idea what the week has in store, we’re all pretty excited to get started and ready to put these new rigs through their paces. Our tools exceed all expectations. These rods rip! The Velocity 8wt being the star of the show.

Pira Lodge

Pira lodge is outfitted with a fleet of saltwater flats skiffs perfectly suited for navigating the labyrinthine, narrow channels and waterways of the skinny marsh. Some of the most technical water I’ve ever seen. Our guides fly through the maze like only seasoned boatmen in this area are capable of. These guys are world class.

We finished up with a first evening of fishing I will never forget

The morning session starts slow, but the sheer amount of life and biodiversity in this ecosystem is incredible. There are times when the beauty of the natural world can just astound and leave you breathless. The land, the marsh and the sky are all teeming with life.

Sabalo, piranha, and other baitfish ripple through the water’s surface as far as you can see. Birds we’ve never heard of fill the air. The banks are populated by massive capybara (world’s largest rodent, think a small hippo with fur), and the sunbathing 8-foot caiman gators are the rule rather than the exception.

Marshland dorados

We get into a couple of smaller dorado and many more razor toothed piranha who can cut your fly down to the head with more precision than the most expensive pair of fly-tying scissors. The water is at all-time low levels after months of unprecedented drought which limits the amount of fishable water to choose from.

Headed back for our midday lunch and siesta with a creeping feeling in my stomach that with the drought, we might not be seeing the numbers of fish that I had expected here at Pira. Right before my nap, I’m rummaging through my suitcase and find a stowaway note from my 5-yr-old daughter:

“I hope you catch the fish you are looking for to catch. I hope you have a great time there. I love you. -Mia.”

With everything in its proper perspective, we head back out at 4:00 to fish until sunset and what turns into one of the best nights on the water that I’ve ever had. Losing count of fish caught is always a good thing. Connecting with your guide on a human level is even better.

A 17 pounder ate the fly right as it hit the water and this one knew how to use the current

Head guide Jose, puts me in the juice and we find fish after fish. Pausing in between with the weight off our shoulders to sit down for a beer, soak it all in, tell some fishing stories; and talk about our lives away from the water. It’s everything I had imagined and more.

A good average fish at Pira lodge is typically between 5-7 pounds. That night I landed a 12-14lb resident dorado and several others pushing 7-9lbs. The sunset was perfect, the company even better, and we finished up with a first evening of fishing I will never forget.

Lodge life

The next two days at Pira lodge passed like a dream. With a 12+ pound fish coming to my hand each of the following days. Our other two guides, Jose Luis and Tyler were both amazing and continued to put us on the fish. The guiding, the food, the staff and the hospitality from managers Marco and Laura, all ranking in the top tier of world-class fly fishing destination lodges. This place makes you feel like family. Our five-star chef, Daniel and the rest of the crew kept our appetites at bay. Argentina’s red wine flowed and our glasses stayed full well into the late hours each evening.

From one lodge to the next

The sun shone hard on us those few summer days as we passed from one lodge to the next.

Entering the gates of the access property located a few miles outside the town of Itati, we were greeted by a convoy of boats and our guides for the remainder of the week; waiting to take us about a mile upstream to the banks of Suinda Lodge.

The big girl takes hold with extreme prejudice, crashing through and against the surface in sheer denial of her predicament

Along with the unprecedented drought, was a heatwave that even the local “Correntinos” were unaccustomed to. Candles left outside for evening lights were found melted down to the table from the heat of the day. We had to shift our fishing schedule accordingly.

Sun rise and sun set were the name of the game. Up at 4:30 am for breakfast and on the boats by 5, we would all motor to our prospective spots and begin casting as we met the first light of day. That was the program for the rest of the week. Fish sunrise from 5 – 10am, head to the lodge for lunch and siesta, a quick cocktail and then back on the boat at 6pm until dark.

We spent a good deal of time looking for Pacu near what had once been the water beneath the trees on the bank. Among the hardest fighting species in the river, I was hopeful to cross one off my list. But with the drought, the water had receded away from the vegetation and we found it increasingly difficult to entice one of these human-toothed, ‘freshwater permit’ to take a fly.

A visit to the doctor

I arrived back to the lodge at mid-day with not much else on my mind but the task at hand: get Jay to the doctor and get him feeling better. The other two members of our crew returned, grinning from ear to ear. Travis had roped into a fish that morning in the upper 20’s, maybe pushing 30 pounds and had sealed the deal; claiming the title for our group’s biggest fish of the trip. We were all elated and there was much back-slapping back at the bar. A quick one-hour drive to the nearest viable hospital and we have Jay at least set up with the meds he needs and a little food in his stomach. Back to the lodge, I get in a short siesta and a quick visit to the bar before our evening session. This is a fishery of quality versus quantity. We are looking for big fish, and that means not messing around on the bank where the smaller ones lie.

We get through the first two hours without sight nor sign of anything that wants to eat. We’ve been fishing the 3-4 inch baitfish flies that have proven very effective so far…but it feels like we need to make a change. I have a

box of musky flies that I brought along specifically with the fish of Suinda lodge in mind. I figure if one big toothy apex predator in the northern hemisphere will eat them, then maybe a big toothy apex predator in the southern hemisphere might too. That, and the fact that the sabalo, which these larger fish are feeding on, are much closer in size to my 8-10inch musky flies than they are to our 4-inch andino streamers.

Last cast

The light is gone and Sergio calls out, “last cast”. Halfway through the swing it’s like there’s a party on the water. The big girl takes hold with extreme prejudice, crashing through and against the surface in sheer denial of her predicament. She’s mine and just doesn’t know it yet.

The light is gone but I can still just barely see the commotion on the water. The audio is even better. I hear her repeatedly come up and crash back down on the surface like a kid jumping off the dock at some lake cabin back home. Taking to the air more times than I’m sure any fish of this size has any right to do, or at least any energy for.

I hold steady and do everything I can to maintain composure. Every fish can be moved in a similar fashion once hooked. I just have to stay calm and fall back on experience to bring this one in. A handful of minutes dogging down like a big striped bass against the strain and I have her to the side of the boat and scooped into the net.

We take the weight and a couple quick measurements, 10 kilos or 22 pounds, it really doesn’t matter the exact number. The whole of my being is pure jubilation in accomplishing this goal. Something I had imagined since high school when my Dad would bring me fishing magazines from his visits to Argentina. Cover shots of massive golden dorado, a fish like I had never seen before nor had any sincere expectation of ever actually being able to touch with my own two hands. Yet here I was, holding onto this incredible creature that I had first dreamed of so long ago...

Glow and contentment

I got back to the lodge that night with a glow and contentment that one expects to only find sitting under the bodhi tree. Travis and I spent our final day fishing for pacu. The one species there that had eluded us. We didn’t get the pacu. The receded banks of the river made sure of that. And while there’s nothing I love more than new species in new places, I couldn’t be bothered with thoughts of missed opportunities. I had found what I came to this place looking for. And I was happy.

“Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride,” The shade replied- “If you seek for Eldorado!” - Edgar Allan Poe