Blue Moki

Catching new species on the fly is always a great challenge. But if you can crack the code, there is a great buzz in being one of the first fly anglers to capture a certain species. I remember when I was a kid growing up in Western Australia, species such as bream and whiting would never have been considered as potential fly targets but, thanks to some pioneering anglers, all that has changed. In the last decade, the sport has progressed massively and new techniques and fisheries are being continually added.

Having witnessed, mostly from afar, the development of permit and blue bastard fisheries in Northern Australia, and having mates that were actively involved in those developments, has always been an inspiration to me. That experience enabled me to bring an open mind when considering if certain species are genuine fly targets.

Moving to New Zealand from Perth 19 years ago exposed me to a whole new gamut of saltwater species. Interestingly, although many of these new species looked completely different to ones back in WA, they did occupy similar niches and often predated on similar food. Another similarity was the widely held belief that bait was the only way to catch these fish.

The one species that really captured my attention was the blue moki, Latridopsis ciliaris. It grows big, maxing out at 11 kg, and it inhabits the coastal zone and often in quite shallow water. It is also beautiful, with an iridescent blue, muscular body. They remind me of blue bastards although they are not closely related. An interesting aspect of blue moki behaviour is that they target invertebrates such as crabs, molluscs, worms and even sea urchins. Rarely will they predate on fish and it is unusual for bait fishers to catch them on cut bait.

Water clarity is a major obstacle in the pursuit of blue moki — the majority of the South Island has murky coastal water. In my mind the best chance to catch moki on the fly would be to find somewhere with clear water and an abundant population. Enter stage right — the Chatham Islands.

CHATHAM ISLAND

Chatham is a small island 700 kilometres off the coast of the South Island. It stands in the teeth of the Roaring Forties and is constantly battered by huge seas and heavy winds. The island is a territory of New Zealand, and whilst it is rugged and windswept, it is also stunningly beautiful, with white sand beaches and clear, cool water. Approximately 600 people call the place home and this low population enables the marine environment to be well-managed and bountiful.

The local economy depends largely on farming, tourism and commercial fishing. Seafood stocks are very healthy due to isolation from the mainland. The mainstays of the fishing industry are blue cod, paua, kina and crayfish. Moriori are the indigenous people of the Chatham Islands and arrived from mainland New Zealand in around 1500 A.D. Over a number of centuries their cultures diverged from the mainland Maori, developing a distinctive language, mythology, artistic expression and way of life.

I began to research blue moki captures from the island, and reports indicated a decent population of big fish that often travelled in schools. Luckily, I also know some commercial divers that have spent a decent amount of time working these waters and they confirmed that the water was clear and the blue moki abundant.

The call went out to Jeff Forsee, a NZ fly fishing guide and dedicated salt-fly angler who loves the challenge of new species in new places. We were going to give ourselves 10 days but we were flying blind. The warmest, most settled time to visit is in summer. But our schedules meant that we could only go in September, adding an extra layer of challenge to an already daunting trip into the unknown.

JETTY RATS

The weather was rough for our first day on the island. A big south-westerly was blowing a gale and a big swell was following suit. But we were expecting this kind of weather and had a plan. The beauty of a small island is that whatever direction the wind and swell are coming from, there will be a side of the island that is sheltered. In a south-wester the jetty in the small settlement of Owenga is very fishable, so we decided to head there.

The water was crystal clear and we saw blue moki immediately. They were in small schools of three or four fish cruising in shallow water just a few metres out from the shore. They were mostly small but the odd bigger fish was mixed in. This is exactly what I’d hoped for and expectations began to rise. We fished to those fish for a good couple of hours. Occasionally they would come over and look at our flies but mostly they completely ignored them.

The next day Jeff and I went for a dive. The sea floor was littered with paua (abalone to you Aussies). These marine molluscs are regarded as a delicacy and fetch a high price on the international seafood markets. They are extremely vulnerable to overfishing, and it is rare to find them in these sorts of numbers. We also saw a few very big moki swimming around as singles or pairs. That night over a huge feast of seafood we hatched a plan for success.

SWEET SUCCESS

We explored around the island for a few days, finding some nice bays, but cloudy weather and lack of local knowledge hampered us. Every time we fished from the rocks our flies were immediately grabbed by wrasse. While they are fun to catch, it seemed that unless we could sight-fish to blue moki we were unlikely to hook them. Another session on the Owenga jetty brought us a few good size blue cod and small warehou.

Warehou are an unusual land-based capture, usually preferring open ocean and deep water. I was very excited to catch them, especially knowing that they grow to 5 kg plus and travel in large schools. They are known to surface feed on krill, and if that happens in the Chathams it would suit fly fishing very well. They added an extra and unexpected element to the potential of the fishing here.

Heading back to home base for the afternoon we decided to try Fishermans Wharf in Waitangi. We’d read plenty of great reports about fishing from the wharf but we’d been avoiding it because it was the least aesthetically appealing of our options. Being a busy, working wharf, there is only a small area where you are allowed to fish. We set up shop and began throwing some berley in the water, mainly paua guts and some smashed up kina. Immediately we had fish swirling through the berley trail, and most of them were the unmistakable, iridescent blue moki. Some of the moki were really big, I’d guess they were around 7 kg.

Jeff was first up and drifted his shrimp fly down the trail. The moki were immediately interested and it wasn’t long before his fly disappeared and he was bent into a moki on fly. We’d heard that they are great fighters and this fish, although only small, went hard. Numerous times Jeff dragged it out from between the pylons, until finally it ran out of juice and he slid it up onto the wooden steps at the end of the wharf. We were over the moon. We’d managed to get one.

I was next, and it only took me a few minutes to come tight on another moki. I’d seen this fish cruising and had presented the fly mid-column in front of it. One twitch was all it took to convince it to eat. In the panic that followed, I overtightened the drag on my reel and the tippet broke. I was gutted, but very confident I’d get another. In a repeat of the previous hook up, I picked a couple of cruising fish and fed the fly down to them. The twitch and pause worked again and this time I had my drag set correctly.

I was glad to be using 15 pound tippet because anything lighter and you’d be in big trouble. A giant red ling turning up under the jetty encapsulated the weird and wonderful marine world of this island and was a great way to finish the session.

SIGHT FISHING ADVANCEMENTS

For the last few days of our trip we moved from Waitangi to the tiny settlement of Kaiangaroa on the northern shore of the island. This area looked the most promising to me, especially because it was completely protected from the southerly swell. I had read some great reports from people fishing off the Kaiangaroa jetty, so we knew that there was a good chance we’d find moki in residence.

While our success off the Waitangi Wharf was an amazing breakthrough, we were keen to find out if we could catch moki without the use of berley. The first afternoon on the jetty, we saw some big moki cruising around the pylons and had a few fish interested in taking our flies, but couldn’t pin them. The jetty sits high off the water, especially during low tide, and this made staying in touch with the fly challenging.

The next morning the tide was higher and I saw a small group of moki cruising over a sand patch towards the end of the jetty. I presented the fly, the Avalon shrimp that had worked in Waitangi, and let it drop vertically in front of the fish. The lead fish raced forward and I came tight immediately. Another spirited fight and our first moki without berley was to hand. The pieces of this puzzle were slowly falling into place.

FISHING THE ROCKS

We were keen to explore the rock fishing further. Having obtained permission from the farmer, we drove out to Point Munning on the peninsula in the north-eastern corner of the island. There was a small south-westerly swell with little wind. Very little of the swell was reaching the area, which allowed us to safely fish the rocky shoreline on the northern side of the peninsula. The water was crystal clear so we scouted around for a deep water channel with a clean bottom that would give us the chance to sight fish. A small amount of berley in the form of crushed kina was thrown into the head of the channel, drawing fish up into it as the rising tide washed the scent into the bay.

Immediately, wrasse appeared and not far behind them small pods of moki. The moki were moving in twos and threes with the occasional bigger single also appearing. Both Jeff and I had multiple shots which led to plenty of inspections but none of the moki committed to eating.

As the tide filled, the moki were venturing right into the head of the channel, which was only a couple of feet deep. Seeing them in such clear water was amazing, and you could make out every movement of their fins. I was so excited, as this is what we’d been dreaming of. But the fish were very spooky and we could not get them to eat.

POTENTIAL

I knew the only certainty we had in going to the Chathams was that we would leave with more questions than answers. The reality is that I’ve only done a very small amount of fly fishing for blue moki, and there are plenty more developments to come. But the fish we caught confirmed that they are a genuine fly target. Additionally, they are found in good numbers all along the New Zealand coast. Some of these places have clear water at certain times of the year. Stewart Island is a place that regularly has clear water and a good population of blue moki.

Some big questions remain unanswered. Do these fish push in over flats during the day? Do they ever tail over shallow reefs? Do they gather in large schools at certain times of the year? Questions that I intend to have a lot of fun trying to answer.