Patrick’s Challenge

The Visitors Book in our cabin at Waihau Bay contained an entry made two weeks earlier by Sydney fly-rodder Patrick St John. The entry read: ‘Caught two kingfish over 20 kilos. Beat that Glenn!’ It was at my suggestion that Patrick had visited with New Zealand fishing guide Nik Mathiesen, and I thought it a bit rich that he should throw down such a challenge. Patrick knew that I had never seen a 20 kilo kingfish let alone caught such a monster. He had every reason to feel confident.

Waihau Bay is a six hour drive south east of Auckland. It lies just north of East Cape, the most easterly part of New Zealand. From the boat ramp various reefs and headlands are accessible. The continental shelf is less than a kilometre offshore.

Prior to our trip I spoke several times to Justin Duggan regarding his success on Sydney Harbour kingfish using Enrico Puglisi’s Flex Calamari. This fly is tied using Puglisi fibres (a tough synthetic that sheds water readily during the cast) and is articulated. The tube of the calamari comprises bunches of Puglisi fibres tied onto a wire. The wire forms an eye to be attached to the tippet, and at the other end an eye to be attached to a split ring. To the split ring is attached a Gamakatsu hook, onto which is tied the tentacles and head of the calamari. Justin convinced me that I should try some of these flies at East Cape.

RECORD BREAKERS

I also discussed with Justin the prospect that East Cape might be a good place to try to better the fly rod world records for kingfish. The 10 kg class tippet record stands at 25.2 kg and was a land based capture made in 1998 at Lottin Point near East Cape. Justin expressed the view that this record was near-impossible to break, and suggested that I focus my attention on the 8 kg class tippet record. This record was set in 1986 and stands at 19.75 kg. Justin also thought it would be very difficult to better this record.

On the other hand, Justin pointed out that Jane could relatively easily better the women’s 10 kg class tippet record which stands at 5.89 kg. In addition, all other recognised classes of tippet for women are vacant, meaning that all Jane had to do was catch a kingfish of legal length on fly using one of the recognised class tippets. This sounded like a bit of fun, so I went onto the internet and took out memberships of the International Game Fish Association (IGFA) for both of us. I then obtained some 8 kg and 10 kg IGFA leaders with 80 kg shock tippet tied by Gavin Platz.

When Jane saw an email from IGFA confirming her membership I was asked for an explanation. My joke that I thought it was an email from her Russian boyfriend ‘Igfa’ fell flat. I followed up on this poor start by expressing great enthusiasm for setting a world fly rod record. I could have predicted Jane’s reply: “Not interested if it means the fish will be killed.” Explaining that we needed kingfish to eat during our holiday was to no avail.

RIGGING UP

We arrived with Nik Mathiesen at Waihau Bay mid-afternoon and hurriedly unpacked. There was time for an evening fishing session at the nearest reef off Cape Runaway. After consulting Nik I rigged up my 12-weight Winston rather than a heavier rod. We concluded that I might be able to pull harder than 8 kg with a 15-weight rod. I rigged up a 10-weight Sage TCR for Jane. Fly lines were Rio Leviathan (600 and 450 grams respectively). I attached an 8 kg IGFA leader to my rod and a 10 kg IGFA leader to Jane’s. Shock tippets were measured at 30 cm or less.

The weather was near perfect as we left the boat ramp. The wind was 5–10 knots variable and it was a clear warm day. White Island volcano was visible in the distance emitting a cloud of sulphurous steam. My expectations were high as Nik slowed the boat down and began to focus his attention on the sounder and chart plotter.

What appeared on the sounder was not encouraging. Few fish showed on the reef and those that did were holding at 30 metres or deeper. My disquiet turned to dismay when Nik said, “This is terrible. I do not think I have ever seen so few kingfish on this reef. The water is filthy. We have had a lot of rain.” He continued, “When Patrick was here the water was dirty but there were fish everywhere. At times there were so many kingfish under the boat that the sounder went blank because it could not detect the bottom.”

I cast a 6/0 Clouser at Nik’s direction based on his reading of the sounder, let it sink until the line straightened and retrieved it at high speed. Nothing happened. Our follow up tactic involved me retrieving the Clouser in unison with a hookless jig retrieved by Nik. As the sun was setting a kingfish followed the jig and then turned and ate my fly. Our first kingfish of the trip weighed about 10 kg and was dispatched to provide dinner and our fish meals for the week.

BAD OMENS

The weather the next morning was again ideal. To prevent any possibility that Jane might become seasick, Nik gave her a ‘Paihia Bomb’ before we left at 6.30 a.m. for the boat ramp. We had not travelled more than 50 metres when a black cat ran in front of the car and was nearly run over.

“Isn’t that meant to be a bad sign?” asked Nik.

“Hopefully not,” I replied.

But it soon seemed that it was. Nik was soon complaining about the scarcity of fish and the poor water quality. After about the first hour or so, Nik became so despondent that he suggested we should consider cutting our losses and drive back to Tauranga the following day. He said that the fishing at Tauranga had been spectacular during the previous week.

During all this time, Jane was below deck. Nik’s Paihia Bomb had completely knocked her out. She emerged from the cabin looking groggy and cranky at about 11 a.m. after being woken by a shearwater that had crash-landed into the boat. Being unable to see the horizon above the gunwale, it could not take off and had flapped its way below deck and onto Jane’s head. Nik thought (rightly so) that he was in trouble, but Jane’s presence coincided with the appearance of some fish, and her accusations that the Paihia Bomb had been deliberately administered to keep her out of the way fell on deaf ears.

First I caught a small kingfish. Then I hooked something big. After I had been playing the fish for about 10 minutes, Nik estimated that it was over 20 kg. I was trying to apply smooth and steady pressure to avoid any angry reaction by the kingfish, when it suddenly took off for the bottom. Despite having the drag on my Charlton reel at lock-up, backing streamed off until the fish reached the reef and was gone. Nik tried to console me by telling me, “That was a very big fish.”

I looped on a new 8 kg IGFA leader and tied on a white and red baitfish pattern weighted with tungsten dumbbell eyes. Nik ran the ruler over the shock tippet. After fishing this fly for some time without result, I decided to try a Flexi Calamari size 4/0. I tied it on using up as little of the remaining shock tippet as was possible. I had not used one of these flies previously and decided to give it a swim beside the boat to study its action. It looked very realistic in the water. The only possible disadvantage was that the fly was unweighted and sank slowly. This meant that I had to cast the fly as far as possible in the direction of our intended drift, to allow it maximum time to be pulled under by the sinking fly line and find its way down to where the fish were holding 20–30 metres below.

MONSTER KINGFISH

While I was waiting for the fly to get down, a young albatross took up station a metre from the back of the boat and paddled along waiting to be fed. Another omen, I thought, as I began retrieving my fly and Nik started to crank in the teaser. As the teaser came towards the surface three massive kingfish followed in hot pursuit. They almost crashed into the back of the boat and outboard. Nik let loose with some colourful language, making reference to 30 kg fish, as I concentrated on retrieving the fly. As the kingfish disappeared from the back of the boat, my fly was eaten and loose fly line shot safely through my fingers and the rod guides. Nik asked, “I wonder if it is one of those monsters?”

No-one said anything for the next 20 minutes or so. Then Nik announced, “I have some bad news. It is getting shallower and we will be drifting into even shallower water. We are in 30 metres now.” A minute later, Jane declared, “You can’t let it run; we are in 24 metres now.”

I already had the drag fully locked up, and the end of the 30 metres of fly line had only just returned through the rod tip. Miraculously, the fish stayed close to the bottom without making a final lunge for the reef. After about 30 minutes, Nik said, “Glenn, I think you have hooked one of those 30 kilo fish.”

As I struggled to make sure the fly line cleared the outboard, our friendly albatross began to open its beak just centimetres away. Surely I wasn’t going to get bitten off by an albatross? Jane picked up her rod and shooed it away from my line.

After about 40 minutes I saw the dark brown of the last 10 metres of fly line and backed off the drag. My fingers were beginning to suffer bad cramps. I noticed Nik reach for his extra-large custom made net. Then the fish came into view for the first time. Nik let out a stream of colourful expletives. Jane’s “Watch your language please!” only induced more of them. I enquired whether his net was big enough. He replied, “No, I don’t think so.”

As the fish came to the surface, I backed away to give him a netting opportunity. On the second attempt the fish was in the net. Nik could not lift it on board and it was only with some assistance from me that the fish was lifted on to the deck. All I could say was, “that is unbelievable.” Jane was demanding that the fish be returned to the water. Nik and I agreed that the fish had to be weighed-in as a possible world record. Nik called Waihau Bay Game Fishing Club to ask for the weigher to come down to the boat ramp. According to Nik, this was the largest kingfish ever caught on fly. He said that he had caught a kingfish in the far north of New Zealand that weighed 28 kg. He also said that there was a photo in Sam Mossman’s Saltwater Fly Fishing in New Zealand of a 28 kg fish caught fishing from the rocks in the region of East Cape.

That afternoon over a celebratory glass of wine, I completed the IGFA application form. Everything seemed in order: the capture had been recorded on a video camera; there were lots of photographs; the scales had recently been certified; the fish had weighed in at 32.7 kg. After much celebration, I slept well that night.

JANE’S FISH

The next day we returned to the scene. I was reefed by two large fish and nearly lost my fingers in a loop of fly line to another, before a loop of line went over the reel handle and broke the 10 kg class tippet I had started to use. I managed to land several 4–10 kg fish, referred to by Nik as “babies”. At one point both Jane and I were hooked up to large fish. After a few minutes mine made it to the safety of the reef, but Jane managed to keep hers under some sort of control. After about 25 minutes, by which time she was threatening to vomit from exhaustion, the fish was in the net. Nik estimated it at 13 kg, more than double the current women’s fly rod record on 10 kg class tippet which Jane was using. Jane demanded that her fish be released unharmed and so it was.

By mid afternoon as we headed back to the boat ramp, the wind was blowing 30 to 35 knots and white caps were starting to form. The weather forecast was bad for the next two days so we decided we should abandon Waihau Bay in favour of nearby trout streams.

SO CLOSE

That night as I lay in bed listening to rain falling on the roof of our hut, I began to re-live the capture of my monster kingfish. How could I have been so fortunate? I began to dwell upon all the issues that could disqualify me from claiming an IGFA record. This was my first attempt to fish in accordance with IGFA rules and attaining a world record so quickly seemed completely at odds with my fishing history—in my case, usually, if something can go wrong, then it does.

I lay wondering whether Nik was allowed to net the fish. I considered whether a loop-to-loop connection to the fly line was permissible. I had cut off 20 centimetres of my fly-line and packaged it with the leader and the fly in a plastic bag to accompany the application to IGFA. All seemed to be in order. Then I started to think about the fly. I thought about it being unusual for a fly to incorporate a split ring which acts as a moving joint. Then the obvious dawned on me. What was the length of the shock tippet if I included in the measurement that part of the fly up to the split ring/eye of the hook?

The next morning over breakfast as we sat looking out at persistent rain, I told Nik of my nightmare. I retrieved the shock tippet again and we measured it: 25 cm to the eye of the fly (the measure I had included on my IGFA application) and 34 cm to the eye of the hook. The IGFA rules, which we looked up online, specify that a shock tippet cannot exceed 30.48 cm, is to be measured from the ‘eye of the hook’ to the single strand of class tippet, and includes any connecting knots. My shock tippet was 3.5 cm too long!

I began thinking that if I had used any other fly from the several hundred I had in my fly boxes, there would not have been a problem. I began thinking what a fool I was for not studying the rules more carefully. Then I began to think how lucky I was to be alive, happily retired and able to enjoy fishing in Jane’s company. Jane, of course, reminded me that I had killed a magnificent fish for no good purpose.

Before leaving Waihau Bay I made an entry in the Visitors Book: ‘Caught a kingfish weighing 32.7 kg on 8 kg tippet. Beat that Patrick!’