Mavora lakes to Greenstone, New Years Trip

Over a year ago my older brother came to us with the news that he was engaged and that the wedding was planned for Christmas time in Dunedin.  So tickets were booked and close to a month in Otago was locked in.  Leading up to the event I had a lot to think about but my mind would often wander to how I would fill the time after the wedding and Christmas had passed, as could be imagine it didn’t have to wander far before I stumbled upon the idea that a tramping/fishing trip into Central was in order.  So all mandatory celebrations came and went and we were off. 

Jack and I had, after a lot of research, settled on the Mavora–Greenstone track which under usual circumstances would take us about three days but we planned a five night tramp with plenty of fishing along the way in the Mararoa, Greenstone and Caples rivers. 

On our day of departure it was clear but windy and so we were off and arrived at the base of North Mavora Lake at around 2pm.  Having never spent much time in Central Otago I wasn’t quite sure what to expect but what we found looked brilliant, the lake was clear and lined with bush and tussock, perfect for trout.  We resisted the urge to stalk the lake edge and shouldered our packs setting out for boundary hut a few km past the lake head on the Mararoa River.  Two hours later and we were arriving at the head of the lake and able to catch our first glimpses up the valley.  Completely different from anything I had fished before the valley was wide and flat with steep sides and barley a single tree in site.  The river, however unfamiliar, had instant appeal, crystal clear and snaking its way lazily through the valley floor, I knew we had made a good choice.  With fresh enthusiasm and laden with six days of supplies we trudged up the valley towards our first nights’ lodgings in Boundary hut.  Upon our arrival we found a lovely little six bunk hut completely empty alongside a beautiful pool, a quick snack and we were off with polaroids in tow to spot our quarry.

It didn’t take long and we had spotted a nice rainbow cruising in the shallows on the opposite bank so I sent jack inside to assemble his new rod.  He promptly obliged and returned to stand knee deep in the river casting under my direction.  Having only begun fly fishing in the last year Jack is still a novice angler and as a result found casting difficult in the light northerly that had crept into our evening.  First fish spooked we moved on upriver to the next pool with high hopes and slightly more aware of how the wind could put a major dampener on the trip if it doesn’t play ball.  It didn’t take long before we found another fish happily feeding away and the previous sequence of events repeated itself.  Slightly perturbed we moved again upriver and found a fish holding in a very fast, very shallow run nymphing heavily.  This time I took the rod from jack and quickly realised his frustrations that the wind made a good presentation almost impossible, I crept up in the tussock as far as I dared until I was almost horizontal to the fish and commenced with some extremely sloppy casting, six or so presentations later and the fish finally plucked my fly from the current as it whizzed past, perhaps too hasty on the strike or just unlucky I ripped the fly from its mouth leaving us coiled in line and dejected on the river bank.  Darkness now falling we decided to return to the hut with tails between our legs and hope for a better day tomorrow.

We awoke early and packed up our belongings with the intention of fishing our way up to Taipo hut in the headwaters of the Mararoa with packs on our backs, never the most relaxing way to fish but logistically necessary  in this case.  Ten minutes out the door and I found myself cursing the North-westerly which had gathered its forces overnight and was now constantly puffing down the valley making casting all but impossible.  The sequence of events which followed was spot trout, cast at trout, spook trout.  This continued until lunch time and although we had seen many trout and some beautiful water we had still failed to secure any fish and so took our rods apart and tramped straight to Taipo hut with the intention of fishing a section below the hut the next morning.  Once again we arrived at our hut to find it empty and on the banks of a beautiful pool with a resident trout.  By this stage the river had begun to change characteristics and was beginning to gorge up and increase in gradient, perhaps some shelter would be available should the wind persist.  After a quick swim and a feed we were fast asleep trying to forget the sorrows of a hard days fishing. 

Day three we awoke to see that the wind was still not playing ball.  However we set off with a day pack on and headed for a short gorge about three km downstream where we were sure to find some sheltered pools.  After an hour of walking through the tussock we arrived at the base of the gorge to find although still windy it had swung around to the south and was now a healthy tail wind, perhaps this would be the day.  The first pool was deep and narrow and I quickly spotted a trout actively feeding towards the head of it, Jack once again assembled his rod and with a dad’s favourite dry attached to the end begun casting.  It was now that I noticed his casting had come a long way with his first attempt resulting in a near perfect presentation and an enthusiastic rise from a medium sized rainbow which proceeded to rip up the entire pool with a fight more reminiscent of a 2kg kahawai. 

After a short but intense struggle we netted our quarry and I instantly saw the look of accomplishment on Jacks face as it was the first time he had ever sight fished a decent sized fish and it was his new personal best fish!

After a quick photo and release we moved on to the next pool where once again I spotted a nice trout cruising around in the tail.  This time my turn, I attached a green humpy and flicked it upstream to the fish which once more instantly shot to the side and took my fly.  This time a much more lethargic battle, it didn’t take long before I netted my first fish, a 2.5kg brown which was accordingly photographed and released.

We continued the pattern of casting and catching until around lunch time by which stage  we had caught and released half a dozen fish, though nothing bigger than the brown I caught at the start of the gorge.  

We had almost fished our way all the way back to the hut when a small idea implanted itself in my head and before I knew it I had convinced jack that we would pack up our gear and head for the greenstone valley that afternoon, a day earlier than planned.  The walk down into the greenstone was a lot easier than expected and after about two and half hours we were strolling along the banks of the greenstone with renewed enthusiasm.  After a quick scramble through the scrub to the greenstone hut we were greeted with a completely new experience, a hut overflowing with tourist and kiwi tampers’ alike.  We quickly secured a bunk each and begun to make conversation for the evening with our fellow adventurers, most of whom were part way through their own 3-4 day trek.

After a fairly rough and cramped night’s sleep we awoke to find half the hut had already left so we had a leisurely breakfast and headed down to the river for what was sure to be a good day.  Upon arrival at the first access point to the streambed we found another angler assembling his rod and so after a quick chat we found ourselves once again trudging upriver another 5km to where we had agreed with him to begin fishing.  Finally by about 11am we had arrived at where we hoped to get some fishing done and were not disappointed.  The first pool had at least six fish actively rising in it so we raced each other to assemble our rods, I won and so cast to the first fish which after a couple presentations took my dry and I fought a healthy 1.5kg rainbow to the net.  Jacks turn now and once again he was in and another 1.5kg rainbow was in the net.  The day continued in this fashion for an hour or so during which time we caught another half a dozen rainbows though nothing of notable size.  By this time we were getting bored of fishing and possibly a case of heat stroke so we headed home to the greenstone hut for a swim and relax for the afternoon.  That night the hut was only half full so much more pleasant than the previous evening and we got a good night’s sleep as a result. 

The next morning we awoke early and once again packed our gear and got on the track, this time heading downriver to within 1km of the car park before branching off again and heading into the Caples valley for the Mid-Caples hut.  With much lighter and emptier of food packs we made good progress and made the hut by midday, after a quick chat to the hut warden who had caught a few trout below the hut in the morning we were off upstream for our final afternoon of fishing.  Setting off across the tussock I became aware that once again the wind was puffing downstream.  Whether pointless or not we moved upriver fishing for and spooking a number of fish until about 3pm when we found a nice fish feeding in a sheltered little run close into our bank.  I sent jack down to make his attempt and watched from my position sprawled out on the tussock bank as he cast and successfully hooked the fish.

It gave a solid fight and I eventually netted a 2.5kg rainbow, jacks new personal best! Wanting to finish on a good note we decided to head back to the hut and relax before our short walk out to the car park in the morning. 

In total we walked about 100km in search of trout over our tramp, we were plagued by the wind at times and the sandflies at others, however it was a completely new area and we both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and learnt a lot.  I would definitely be interested in heading back to the area on another trip, although next time I will be sure to check the wind forecast more carefully first and I will be sure to get some amazing fishing.