The latest (2014-2015) salmon season as defined by the regulations booklet sees the season now limited to be in line with the standard trout season that covers most rivers, 1 October - 30 April.
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Wairau River Salmon Fishing Rules for 2015
The rules have changed for fishing for salmon in the Wairau River. In the 2011-2012 Fish & Game regulations, the salmon season wasn't clearly defined. I found out it was all year, after confirming with Fish & Game.
The latest (2014-2015) salmon season as defined by the regulations booklet sees the season now limited to be in line with the standard trout season that covers most rivers, 1 October - 30 April.
The latest (2014-2015) salmon season as defined by the regulations booklet sees the season now limited to be in line with the standard trout season that covers most rivers, 1 October - 30 April.
The far side of the mouth
As I write, the dry westerly is blowing outside. It's now December and the local whitebaiting season has ended.
One of the main things I miss about the whitebaiting season is the opening of the road that runs down the southern side of the Wairau Diversion to the mouth - it gets opened for the season, then goes back to being a private farm road.
I try to fish there instead of the usual north side whenever it's open. It makes a nice change - normally less people, an undulating road that's more fun to ride the motorbike on, and the ability to fish spots you can't quite reach from the other side.
November had a lot of wind; too much wind. The grass in my yard that hadn't managed to catch some water from the garden sprinkler turned brown. It'd been too windy to jump on the motorbike and go for fish. I did manage to get out for a ride and fish near the end of the month, though.
***
It was late afternoon, I was out in the yard and noticed how still it was. I checked the tide forecast; incoming, just after low. I grabbed my fishing bag, jumped on the bike and rode down to the Diversion's southern side, rode through the gateway (open/close gate - always leave a gate how you found it) and down to the mouth.
At the mouth, a few people were whitebaiting. Nobody was fishing on my side, but some were casting lures on the other side. I set my rod up and wandered down, casting once I reached the water. Nobody seemed to be catching anything. I walked down toward the surf, having the odd cast, then carried on around into the surf to see if any fish happened to be coming in.
Nothing seemed to be happening fish-wise and I sat on a log, wondering whether to pack up and see if anything was happening at the Wairau Bar. I find sometimes sitting back and watching for a while is helpful - you either have a nice quiet moment and/or discover something that might help the fishing.
Shags were swimming, diving, chasing small fish. Some fish that seemed quite big for a shag to swallow were being guzzled down.
I started casting into a spot where the current pushes into the surf and the birds were active in the water. I soon hooked a fish that felt quite big. I land a kahawai that wasn't as big as I originally thought. Hooking any fish is better than no fish. I stayed and fished more.
The birds were still chasing and catching. I also caught some more - some bigger, and lost some at the water's edge, in the surf. With the last few that I caught, I started running up the beach when I reeled them into the surf - I might've looked slightly crazier, but the fish didn't get away.
There still wasn't anyone fishing on my side, and nobody that was fishing on the other side seemed to be catching anything. It's a strangely nice feeling; possibly because if anything, the shoe is normally on the other foot.
***
I've had fun fishing at the Diversion mouth with my new rod/reel setup and feel strangely hesitant about heading up the river to my usual spots looking for trout. I'm not sure where I'll be fishing next, but I think exploring will be high on the priority list... although the northern side of the Diversion mouth will now go back to being more pleasant without all the whitebaiters around, so we'll see... the kahawai may stick around, and there's always the possibility of a sea-run trout or even a salmon before long.
If only the wind would abate.
One of the main things I miss about the whitebaiting season is the opening of the road that runs down the southern side of the Wairau Diversion to the mouth - it gets opened for the season, then goes back to being a private farm road.
I try to fish there instead of the usual north side whenever it's open. It makes a nice change - normally less people, an undulating road that's more fun to ride the motorbike on, and the ability to fish spots you can't quite reach from the other side.
November had a lot of wind; too much wind. The grass in my yard that hadn't managed to catch some water from the garden sprinkler turned brown. It'd been too windy to jump on the motorbike and go for fish. I did manage to get out for a ride and fish near the end of the month, though.
***
It was late afternoon, I was out in the yard and noticed how still it was. I checked the tide forecast; incoming, just after low. I grabbed my fishing bag, jumped on the bike and rode down to the Diversion's southern side, rode through the gateway (open/close gate - always leave a gate how you found it) and down to the mouth.
At the mouth, a few people were whitebaiting. Nobody was fishing on my side, but some were casting lures on the other side. I set my rod up and wandered down, casting once I reached the water. Nobody seemed to be catching anything. I walked down toward the surf, having the odd cast, then carried on around into the surf to see if any fish happened to be coming in.
Nothing seemed to be happening fish-wise and I sat on a log, wondering whether to pack up and see if anything was happening at the Wairau Bar. I find sometimes sitting back and watching for a while is helpful - you either have a nice quiet moment and/or discover something that might help the fishing.
Shags were swimming, diving, chasing small fish. Some fish that seemed quite big for a shag to swallow were being guzzled down.
I started casting into a spot where the current pushes into the surf and the birds were active in the water. I soon hooked a fish that felt quite big. I land a kahawai that wasn't as big as I originally thought. Hooking any fish is better than no fish. I stayed and fished more.
The birds were still chasing and catching. I also caught some more - some bigger, and lost some at the water's edge, in the surf. With the last few that I caught, I started running up the beach when I reeled them into the surf - I might've looked slightly crazier, but the fish didn't get away.
There still wasn't anyone fishing on my side, and nobody that was fishing on the other side seemed to be catching anything. It's a strangely nice feeling; possibly because if anything, the shoe is normally on the other foot.
***
I've had fun fishing at the Diversion mouth with my new rod/reel setup and feel strangely hesitant about heading up the river to my usual spots looking for trout. I'm not sure where I'll be fishing next, but I think exploring will be high on the priority list... although the northern side of the Diversion mouth will now go back to being more pleasant without all the whitebaiters around, so we'll see... the kahawai may stick around, and there's always the possibility of a sea-run trout or even a salmon before long.
If only the wind would abate.
In under the trees
From Tony Orman's great little book The Challenge of Fishing Small Streams in New Zealand; part of chapter 13 (slightly edited/shortened to fit this layout better):
When you fish overgrown streams you have to assess each situation individually.
I recall one trout which rose just above a log jam. You could not get at it from below because of willows. So at dusk, as it rose steadily a metre or so above the obstruction, I carefully eased upstream and dropped the fly in a few metres upstream and let it float down, paying out line so there was no drag.
The fish took the floating deer sedge quietly, I paused... one two three... then tightened and without yanking dictated to the fish, moving upstream a couple of metres. I was lucky I got away with it. It was a fine fish from a difficult spot, only overcome by an unorthodox approach.
Overgrown streams are worth looking at. Most anglers shun them. Perhaps they like it easy. Perhaps they don't realise what treasures such streams can hold.
Another way of fishing in tight spots is dapping. This technique consists of dropping your fly on the water and flicking it up and down if it is a dry fly, or letting it sink if it is a nymph. There is no casting involved. A good method for fishing off a bank or under willow. Dapping is reputed to have originated in Ireland on the loughs (lakes). There it was done from boats, usually with dry flies.
One Marlborough stream I know can hold some fine trout early in the season when they run up from the parent river. There were two particularly fine trout that held under a clump of willows and briar. You could see them through the twigs as they fed deeply on nymphs. No one could cast to them.
Ted tied on a weighted nymph and poked his rod through the twigs and branches. Then he fed out line until he had enough slack literally to drop the nymph in about a couple of metres above the trout.
The fish rose up towards the surface and Ted's nymph disappeared.
Until then he hadn't considered how he was going to land it. He tightened the nymph home and the fish bucked and drove away. Ted just let the fish go somewhere downstream. After a few minutes the fish luckily sulked.
Ted passed his rod through the twigs and put his other hand downstream, transferring the rod from right to left. Then he eased his right hand through the gap and took it from his left, poked his left hand into another gap and transferred again. Four or five of these and he was in the clear, with the fish luckily still attached. There the fight took place.
It was a fine 3.6kg (8lb) brownie which Ted quickly weighed in his landing net and then slipped back.
When you fish overgrown streams you have to assess each situation individually.
I recall one trout which rose just above a log jam. You could not get at it from below because of willows. So at dusk, as it rose steadily a metre or so above the obstruction, I carefully eased upstream and dropped the fly in a few metres upstream and let it float down, paying out line so there was no drag.
The fish took the floating deer sedge quietly, I paused... one two three... then tightened and without yanking dictated to the fish, moving upstream a couple of metres. I was lucky I got away with it. It was a fine fish from a difficult spot, only overcome by an unorthodox approach.
Overgrown streams are worth looking at. Most anglers shun them. Perhaps they like it easy. Perhaps they don't realise what treasures such streams can hold.
Another way of fishing in tight spots is dapping. This technique consists of dropping your fly on the water and flicking it up and down if it is a dry fly, or letting it sink if it is a nymph. There is no casting involved. A good method for fishing off a bank or under willow. Dapping is reputed to have originated in Ireland on the loughs (lakes). There it was done from boats, usually with dry flies.
One Marlborough stream I know can hold some fine trout early in the season when they run up from the parent river. There were two particularly fine trout that held under a clump of willows and briar. You could see them through the twigs as they fed deeply on nymphs. No one could cast to them.
Ted tied on a weighted nymph and poked his rod through the twigs and branches. Then he fed out line until he had enough slack literally to drop the nymph in about a couple of metres above the trout.
The fish rose up towards the surface and Ted's nymph disappeared.
Until then he hadn't considered how he was going to land it. He tightened the nymph home and the fish bucked and drove away. Ted just let the fish go somewhere downstream. After a few minutes the fish luckily sulked.
Ted passed his rod through the twigs and put his other hand downstream, transferring the rod from right to left. Then he eased his right hand through the gap and took it from his left, poked his left hand into another gap and transferred again. Four or five of these and he was in the clear, with the fish luckily still attached. There the fight took place.
It was a fine 3.6kg (8lb) brownie which Ted quickly weighed in his landing net and then slipped back.
A Good Sign
I felt I needed a stronger rod for the current and surf at river mouths (mainly Wairau and Wairau Diversion), so ordered myself a Shakespeare 7 foot, 4 piece 'Slingshot' and a new reel to go with it - a Penn Pursuit 4000.
Today was my first day of testing the setup out, and also of trying my new plan to ride down to the Diversion mouth as often as possible to see what (if anything) was going on, fish-wise. It's just a 5-minute ride, so silly not to.
I went mid-morning around high tide, and the spot was busy with whitebaiters and some people casting lures, but I didn't see any fish getting caught. I got to cast my new setup for the first time.
Riding back down to the mouth late afternoon, I sat on the bike looking to see whether anything was happening before bothering to set up my rod. Nothing much seemed to be going on, but then I noticed a couple of guys walking back from the mouth with some kahawai.
I set up.
Casting into the current, I hit the end of the kahawai run and managed to land one. Most of the other fishers had a few. I stayed fishing while everyone else left.
I was happy with my one kahawai and the positive start to fishing with the new setup.
Today was my first day of testing the setup out, and also of trying my new plan to ride down to the Diversion mouth as often as possible to see what (if anything) was going on, fish-wise. It's just a 5-minute ride, so silly not to.
I went mid-morning around high tide, and the spot was busy with whitebaiters and some people casting lures, but I didn't see any fish getting caught. I got to cast my new setup for the first time.
Riding back down to the mouth late afternoon, I sat on the bike looking to see whether anything was happening before bothering to set up my rod. Nothing much seemed to be going on, but then I noticed a couple of guys walking back from the mouth with some kahawai.
I set up.
Casting into the current, I hit the end of the kahawai run and managed to land one. Most of the other fishers had a few. I stayed fishing while everyone else left.
I was happy with my one kahawai and the positive start to fishing with the new setup.
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