A Tasmanian Central Plateau session that began with a hike across 19 Lagoons country in 40 km winds has produced the kind of brown trout day that justifies the entire trip: two trophy fish on dry fly, a comedy of equipment failures, and a reminder of why the wilderness tarns above the Western Lakes still rate as world-class wild brown water.
The angler, who says he is 62 and travelling solo, drove from Melbourne to Geelong, boarded the Spirit of Tasmania, and pushed straight up to the central plateau after landing in Devonport. "I am packed like the Beverly Hillbillies. I am going to Tasmania for the fishing," he said. The plan was the standard plateau routine: raft a short lake, then walk in to a smaller, less-fished tarn that local knowledge said held big fish.
The weather refused to cooperate. "Terrible conditions today," he said on arrival. "The day is not really good. You normally fish blue sky days up here. However, I'm going to hike in. I can't control the weather, but I'm here for the fish." After bypassing a closer lake he knew held only smaller fish, he committed to a two-kilometre walk. "Nothing like a good hike at 62 to blow the arteries out."
Conditions at the trophy tarn were worse than at the launch. "It is blowing a gale. The temperature's dropped from when I left this morning. This is Tasmania. You got to be prepared for everything. It's not four seasons in one day. It's about 12." Two fish were spooked from the edges within minutes. "That was bad angling on my part. I was walking too quickly. So I've backed off and just going to take it slowly. I need to maximise every chance."
His rig was a three-fly dry setup adapted from English fly tier John Horsey: a carrot fly used as a strike indicator with two mayfly emergers behind. "Short cast John Horsey seven-second dry fly method of searching the water," he said. "It tells me roughly where my flies are behind it, and the trout actually like the carrot fly."
The first take came from one of those mayfly emergers under overcast skies. "Holy moly, under the worst conditions, just slowly searching the water," he said as the fish exploded. The fight nearly turned into a disaster when his camera brace snapped mid-fight and his net came loose. "This is hard work trying to get this fish in. Got him. Oh, have a look at this. That is a great brown trout."
His pride in the fish was clear. "This is why you hike in in Tasmania, to remote water, because you want to catch trout like that. Have a look at that. Oh, that's what I walked for. This is why I walked kilometres to come in and catch. The best part is on the dry fly."
A second trophy followed when the sun finally broke through and the angler sat down for lunch. A large brown cruised the edge while his backpack and net were off. "Just got to try and land him without the net. Comedy of errors here." He still got him in - a fish he described as "slabby" but a former cracker. "In his day he would have been a great fish. Absolutely beautiful fish, but he's on the way out."
Despite the wind, the broken kit and the early spooked fish, he closed out the day calling it a win. "It was a really hard day. You know what the best part is? The best part was I got them all on dries. That is fly fishermen. It just doesn't get any better when you see them come up and take that dry and go down and you just strike and you've got them."
His pitch for Tasmania is unconditional. "It doesn't matter where you go in this state. The north, the south, the east, the west, the rivers, the lakes, the scenery. It is world class. It is spectacular. This is one of the world's greatest gems for wild brown trout fishing."