After a lifetime of adventure, Gary Kemsley has a few wise words to share about venturing into the wilderness.

As one gets older, the long hikes into untouched headwater rivers and distant beaches with no easy access get harder. For trout fishers, there are jet boats and helicopters to get you in to less fished spots but even then, you will want to get further back where no one has been before. My advice: don’t miss out – do whatever it takes to visit such spots. You never know when you will no longer be able to do so. Wander the remote beaches and wilderness areas at every chance and enjoy what we have available to us. You won’t regret any cost or effort you put in to make it happen.

The wilderness areas of my youth that I will never again visit are places like the headwaters of the Rangitikei River and the Ngaruroro and Mohaka Rivers in the Kaimanawa and Kaweka Forest Parks. And not just the mainstem of these rivers but their tributaries and some of their tributary’s tributaries. All this to try and catch a big trout (or to guide others to trophy fish). Nowadays, you can drive up to the Tekapo Canals and catch much bigger fish beside your car. It proves that there was more to the wilderness fishing than just the hope of a big trout.

Kaweka Forest Park is one place definitely worth exploring.

Some of you reading this may never have experienced the wilderness. Being totally alone and days away from the nearest other person is something special. Seeing a deer on a ridge that has never seen a person before and trying to lure the mysterious wavering dark shapes deep in the crystal-clear waters – these are experiences we should all have. I had this brought home to me one day when I was guiding an American businessman fishing on the Tongariro River at Lake Taupo. I had parked at the Red Hut carpark ten minutes out of Turangi. We gathered our gear together, walked down and crossed the river on the swing bridge. I planned to walk to the Cliff Pool about fifteen to twenty minutes up the track. He dawdled along behind me, his head going in circles like mine would have if I was walking down a street lined with skyscrapers in New York. I slowed as I gathered he was really enjoying the walk. We crossed the bypass and were only a few minutes from our destination when he said in a hushed voice, “Stop”. Had he seen a snake? I stopped and looked at him – he had his head cocked to one side obviously listening for something. I waited and soon a tui let out his morning tune from nearby bushes. “Did you hear that?” he asked.

I told him what sort of bird it was and told him we could call in to the flax swamp at Tokaanu after fishing and see and hear hundreds of them.

In the wild, you can stumble across animals that have never seen a human before.

We were almost up to the Cliff Pool and I was sure that we would be the first to fish the pool that day. That meant fish were assured. He hesitated before moving on to the river just ahead. He turned to me and said, “You know Gary, this is the furthest I have ever been from a motor vehicle.”

We laughed it off and went on to catch several big trout, by his standards, and later saw the swarms of tuis on the flax bush flowers in the Tokaanu swamp. I have never forgotten him or that statement. It made me think how lucky we are to even have the opportunity to visit such places and enjoy them.

A high country trout comes to the fly.

Some people enjoy these places more than others. It was high summer in the Kaimanawa mountains, near midday and it was hot. My client and I had flown in by helicopter from Taupo with Toby Clark at first light in the morning. We set up camp and went fishing. We were in the extreme headwaters of the Rangitikei River, which is about as remote as you can get between Taupo and Taihape. It would have been a solid three-day tramp to get out to a road end from where we were.

We fished a pool a kilometre above camp. It was one of my favourites and often gave up a trophy rainbow in the 10 to 12lb category. It didn’t that day. We crossed the river at the tail of the pool and sat and watched for ten minutes. We couldn’t see any fish. I thought I heard something up the river. Not a deer noise but something melodious. I thought no more of it as I scanned the air clear water to find a fish for my client to cast to. We moved upriver scanning and searching for a fish that wasn’t there that day. We entered the bush, walked through some native trees and came out on the riverbank below the next pool. A small island with one large fallen beech tree was in the tail of the pool. As we approached, I heard the noise again.

“What’s that?” my client said. I had no idea but as we moved closer to the little island it was plainly music coming from the tree. It was a flute. Looking closer, and I must say we were totally baffled at this stage, we were amazed to see a person sitting in the tree playing his flute.

He had a small backpack and his instrument. We talked for five minutes and he wandered off into the grove of native we had just walked through.

He said he often walked for days with his flute through the bush. It made him feel good. I made sure he knew where he was going. He planned to walk up the Thunderbolt Track the next day and hoped to reach the main highway the following night. I was stunned. I had never seen anyone in that area before. He obviously enjoyed the natural surroundings.

I feared that he might get caught in bad weather. It can change in there in an hour, from 25 degrees, which has you craving shade, to snowfalls and/or heavy rain. This is okay if you have an established camp to retreat too, but it’s not so good if you just have a small backpack and a flute. I sort of admired him though. Mad and irresponsible are words that come to mind but being able to look after himself without gear took some skills and a lot of guts. The bush, particularly in the extreme high country where we were, was no place for the untrained or unprepared walker. We never saw him again and I didn’t hear any news about lost trampers.

I fished from that camp on and off for several years and never saw any hunters, anglers or trampers other than him in all that time. Sort of tells you how remote we were.

Such places and happenings are all around us. My advice again is to make an effort and get out and enjoy the wilderness and its wonders. Sometimes, they’re closer than you think.

April 2021 - Gary Kemsley
New Zealand Fishing News Magazine.
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