It was the last day of the year, so why not go to the lake?
But what was I thinking? It was Christmas & New Year when the usual hordes of people with their Merivale tractors (for those in the north, read Remuera) and shiny pleasure boats flooded the lake – the displacement factor is palpable.
At the ramp, only 4 or 5 vehicles were parked up, so I thought I might get away with it and have a reasonably peaceful day, but it certainly didn’t turn out that way. I got the boat into the water without incident and had a short but pleasant chat with a guy launching just after me who asked what the fishing was like at the moment and also where the best spots were – I was tempted to say “the lake,” but merely said, “anywhere around the edges.” Headed into a favourite spot to find some fishos in kayaks, gave them a wave and moved on. But where to go? Further out, there’s a location that has yielded good fish in the past, so headed in that direction. It was partly cloudy, so spotting was a challenge, but I was not seeing trout, so I thought to move to the next spot, X, which was 2 or 3 kms further around the lake. When I got there and started fishing, the sun came from behind the fluffy stuff, and the jersey came off.
However, the wind was shifty, causing me to move again to a place where I knew there to be fish, but I spooked both of them. The wind drifted the Silver Frog along nicely until it played tricks again, so I returned to the other side of the bay where I’d started. Curses, the darn wind shifted yet again, so back upwind I went, the number of boats whizzing around was growing, with a couple of jet skis joining the fun, so once I’d fished through the reach, I decided to move yet again. Also, with all the boats, it was getting choppy and more difficult to stand upright in the boat, even with the stabilizing pontoons built into the hull. The wind was becoming more active with the odd whitecap appearing.
Hence, a quiet backwater beckoned, but it seemed devoid of trout, so I went, pulling into another spot I’d had success in before. The stomach said it was time for an early lunch, so after a can of drink and some ham sandwiches with a smattering of hot English mustard (we don’t skimp on the comestibles), I felt ready to continue fishing. It was a good choice of the spot as I saw a couple of fish that didn’t like my nymph. However, persistence is one of the great flies in the box, and after a minute or three, a trouty shape was seen moving past the front of the boat, so a quick roll cast dropped the fly somewhere ahead of it and then took though subtle, soon turned quite active. Trying to slide the landing net handle into place while attempting to control the quarry was a brief circus act, but a fish in very average condition was corralled into the rubber meshes. Despite my Wife saying, “Bring home a fish”, it was released to grow into an improved state.
By then, there were boats and jet skis everywhere scything through the water, and the din level was becoming unacceptable, so a decision was made to leave the lake. It was a game of dodgems on the way back to the ramp, where trucks, cars, and trailers were parked all over the place, with more coming on stream, and I thought it might be a while before I could get the boat onto the trailer. One came out, and I waved another one in as they were trying to launch, as I’d already had my day. It was clear there was something wrong with their motor or the winch system, as after ten minutes, they pulled back out again, and I got the Osprey onto the trailer. About this time, a guy set out from the ramp in a VERY noisy craft, the roar of which I thought you’d be able to hear from the moon, and it seemed he had no muffler system at all.
We can go up to Lake Brunner any time of year, and we do, but visitors only have the limited opportunities provided by holiday weekends or the annual Christmas break, so we can cut them some slack, even the ear-shattering noisy fella.
I was pleased to be on my way home to where my Wife was waiting to help get the boat up the slope, over the lip under the double door and tucked up in the garage without hitting anything stored therein or ramming the other car.
While this holiday season lasts, the next trip will have to be to another of our many waterways that DOESN’T have jet skiing, water skiing, or wakeboarding. Fishing is good for mental well-being – it’s about peace and quiet, wouldn’t you agree?
