Fishing The Ohinemuri River

Despite being all over the world fishing famous waters for legendary fish, Andrew Perring always comes back to Auckland, New Zealand. Here he fishes for trout: and not necessarily big trout, either. Instead, he is attracted by the fact that they're readily accessible, are pretty to look at, fight well for their size and are found in some of the prettiest places imaginable.

The last time Andrew guided me, he helped me hook and land a trout of around 4kg at Lake Otamangakau - so he knows how to catch the big ones, too. But now that he's caught a few monsters, they don't interest him as much. Although he still does a fair bit of guiding around the Turangi/Taupo region, he still gets a real kick out of introducing anglers to the delights of northern fishing: particularly Lake Otatoa and the myriad of rivers, creeks and lakes around the Waikato, Coromandel and Hauraki Districts.

This time round, Andrew suggested we fish a small stream feeding into the Ohinemuri. It was opening day and Andrew hoped that a few big fish might still reside in the unseasonably warm waters. He offered the choice of super early (pre-rush hour) start or a moderately late (post-rush hour) one. I settled on the latter.

At 9 am, Andrew's 4WD pulled into my driveway and in no time the gear was packed. It was only an hour and a quarter to the stream and fishing chat made it pass by agreeably enough. However, that came to an abrupt halt upon his invitation to look in his glovebox. In it lay a fishing video game. I usually don't have much interest in such devices, but this one proved very different, being able to be 'cast', wound back in (with a real set of reel handles), registered 'strikes' (with a vibration), and these had to be quickly reacted to for a hook-up. The fish was then played out, the drag pressure being altered as deemed necessary. I loved it, and Andrew admitted that he had to search all over America's sport shops to get it.

But hey, we were about to do the real thing! We crossed a bridge in the Waihi gorge and wended our way down a twisty lane, finally pulling up at a tree fringed cul de sac. One other car was there, but it seemed likely they were only camping. It was opening day and we had the river to ourselves.

Most times Andrew likes to fish these rivers in shorts and light tramping boots. We thought it might be a little too cold for that this time - and soon discovered we were wrong. Despite gusty winds, the blue skies and bright sunshine would not be denied and after a brisk walk we soon started shedding clothes.

There were a couple of nice pools only five minutes away but prominent notices asked anglers not to catch the inhabitants - apparently they were pets. Not a problem. We walked on into a deep bush-covered gully. It really was beautiful here, especially with the twittering of skylarks overhead and the comforting watery burble of the stream all round. It was hard to believe that this little piece of heaven was so close to the biggest city in New Zealand.

Reality kicked back in on my first cast. A strong, swirling wind blew down the riffle I hoped to probe, collapsing my delivery in an embarrassing way. Humph! A little rusty aye? This was followed up by a tree on my back-cast, my fly vest on my fore-cast, fly line caught around my legs and I did a whole range of other crap casts, too. Bloody hell! "I'm not this bad usually" I explained to Andrew, "Honest!" He looked a little dubious.

I continued to impress him with total ineptitude. I was started to feel pretty pissed with myself. Me. The guy usually so proud of his long casts...And that proved to be the problem.

"Here - I'll show you how it's done, Mark. Give me your rod".

Andrew then proceeded up the riffle firing tiny casts into every likely spot. No cast went further than seven or eight metres. A light slowly flicked on in a very thick part of my head. "Aahhh..." I said.

Things were a lot better after that. My Big Water conditioning slowly gave way to some of the subtleties needed in these confined conditions under Andrew's tutelage, and I was able to fully appreciate my surroundings once more.

Every new turn and twist in the river showed something else to get the fishing saliva going and, in the midst of it all, I even caught a fish! It wasn't big, but it was silver and speckled and very cute. I gently removed the tiny Hare and Copper and in a flash it was gone, back to the safety of the deepest part of the pool.

So, there were fish here after all! We celebrated by sitting down on a grassy bank and having lunch. Andrew was well prepared, with cheese rolls filled with an assortment of smoked salmon, Pastrami, avocado, Brie and salad, all washed down with an excellent glass of Hunters Reserve Savignon Blanc '96 (after all, it was opening day). I felt very content.

If there wasn't such a nice looking pool up ahead I would have rested longer, the warm rays of the sun washing over me and mixing nicely with the relaxing effects of the wine. But I had a job to do, and soon I was soon being positioned by Andrew to give me the best shot near the foaming head of the pool. The first few casts into obvious places produced nothing and Andrew soon had me trying more complex drifts. One proved to be spot-on, the take almost instant. After wiggling the line across one way then flipping it back upstream the next, the line suddenly began to hiss up through the rapidly moving water as it trailed behind a rapidly moving trout. Just as the weight began to come on, the hook fell out.

And so the day went on. Lovely pools, bell birds singing, monstrous kauri trees dominating overhead - and the occasional trout-take to keep me concentrating. Time flew by. All too soon we were walking back, through the bush this time, stopping only to pick up the remaining half-bottle of wine, and to catch another small trout at the head of the rapids. It was a good way to finish.

Once back at the car, we filled our glasses with the remainder of the Hunters, and toasted the rainbows swirling and feeding in front of us. Perfect.

Andrew's a very keen angler. And we're not talking just normally keen. He started in an intense way in '75 and, in his own words, "stopped fishing just long enough to get married". Throughout this time, he has spent most of it on or near the water, fishing everywhere and for everything. He spent some memorable months in Alaska, had some good fishing in Wyoming, Colorado, Texas and California (even visiting the original stream from whence our own rainbow trout brood stock originated), and then over to South Africa for big bad critter experience.

Back in New Zealand, he guided for Tongariro Lodge in Turangi, as well as doing some private guiding of his own. When there's no one to take, he's sussing out new places or revisiting the old in an effort for a more complete idea of what happens year-round. This is made possible by a great amount of drive and passion - as well as an extremely tolerant wife!

Andrew particularly enjoys fishing 'off the beaten track', both up around Auckland and throughout the Taupo area. He would rather fish for ten trout in a day with no one else around, than for 100 with other anglers in close vicinity. It has always amazed him that more anglers don't fish the waters close to Auckland, but needless to say, he's not complaining either.

He's happy to cater for all levels of experience, finding pleasure in helping people catch their first fish and sorting out their casting, suggesting and demonstrating specialist techniques to competent anglers, or simply showing expert anglers new waters and spotting fish for them to stalk.

Andrew's a keen advocate for encouraging more women to take up the sport. He feels that most females are discouraged by elements of this male-dominated sport and believes he can help teach the basic skills necessary for women to independently catch fish of their own after a trip with him. However, male or female, Andrew's primary aims are to provide a service to the best of his abilities, in attractive surroundings - and to catch all clients a fish!