Snapper on the Rocks

The New Zealand snapper fishery became a controlled fishery under the newly formed Quota Management System (QMS) in 1986. This was after a decade of overfishing by the New Zealand commercial fishing fleet.

After 36 years the success of these controls can now be seen everywhere. Good numbers of snapper are being caught by recreational and professional fishers throughout the northern half of the country, and they support a strong and vibrant charter industry. For travelling fly fishers, there has probably never been a better time to try for a Kiwi snapper on fly.

WARMING SEAS

Extended years of new millennium warmth have also helped this species after the controls were implemented. New Zealand snapper are really a sub-tropical species in, what is supposed to be, a cool-temperate land. Range extensions, breeding success, and recruitment booms are to be expected in a warming Antipodean world.

In their splendid isolation in New Zealand there are few competitors to share these warming temperate seas. The country is cut off to the north at 34 degrees South. There is deep water between New Zealand and tiny Norfolk Island and even more deep water between New Zealand and tropical New Caledonia. As a result, there is no great coastal diversity in northern New Zealand and no real way for more northerly breeding species to spread further south. The great north/south pathway of the eastern Australian coastline does not exist. We do not have tailor, flathead, mulloway and bream (to name but a few). Snapper have the northern New Zealand coastal environment virtually all to themselves.

And in this warming and productive sea, snapper find their way into every nook and cranny. Visiting Australians often comment on the wide diversity of habitats in which snapper are found in New Zealand. From surf beaches to mangrove streams to deep rock reefs and harbour foreshores, snapper dominate nearly all coastal environments over their extensive range.

For the fly fisher it means that there is a rich diversity of habitats that can be explored with a fly rod. This has led to a revolution of sorts. In recent years fly fishers have been putting flies into locations that few would have even dreamed of fishing in years past, and coming up with some remarkable captures as a result.

THE CHALLENGE REMAINS

This is not to suggest that Kiwi snapper are ridiculously abundant or easy. The ‘sustainable’ nature of their improving stock is tested at every turn. Fishing is booming and eager recreational anglers will be found on most obvious rocks and fishing platforms.

But you can easily get away from the ‘conventionals’. There are many crowd-free locations where fly fishers can find solitude and fish unmolested by the bait and plastic throwing masses. You just need to get a little bit away from the car park. Be willing to walk and explore and you’ll find large areas of fishable coastline and plenty of undisturbed shores.

And don’t be afraid to cast a fly into every bit of likely looking water. One of the great revelations in my fly fishing journey was finding snapper in unexpected habitats and landing them on fly in places that I wouldn’t have thought possible.

It was an old timer of Mãori, Pakeha and whaling heritage who showed me the way. He would stalk wild coastlines with a handline and pull beautiful kelpy snapper out of broken shorelines that were all rock and weed. He would catch great fish in locations I had never contemplated wetting a line in before. It was a little bit hard to believe. I had to sneak in there for myself and have a look.

What I found changed my world. The six kilo snapper that swam past my feet on my first visit was life changing. I knew then that I had to spend more time fishing in this sort of ‘heavy reef’ territory.

THE IMPORTANCE OF COVER

Understanding why the snapper were there in the first place was a big part of the learning curve. After much study and extended contemplation, I finally figured out that it had lots to do with cover. The best places to find snapper in the daytime are those locations that have lots of places for snapper to hide. Cover is everything.

As a result, I started to fish in gnarlier and gnarlier habitats that had bundles of cover. This meant fishing over kelp forests, along crazy rock foreshores, and in and around steep sided ‘bommies’ with underlying caves and shady recesses.

The common New Zealand kelp, Ecklonia variegata, dominated everywhere. It’s a brown kelp with thick leaves and grows upright on a strong stalk for a metre or more. It has foliage thick enough to completely shade the rock mass that exists underneath. It provides a dark refuge for snapper in times of trouble and an easily accessible bolt hole. I used to spend many hours diving in these kelp forests and would regularly come face to face with snapper skulking quietly in amongst the shady stalks.

Fly fishing in this sort of environment looked tricky, but I quickly found out it wasn’t. The depth control provided by a floating or intermediate tipped fly line allowed me to fish a fly in and around the kelp quite effectively. I fished a 20 lb tippet in order to rip out of an occasional kelp blade hook-up (snapper are not leader shy) and eventually came to use a ‘snag bouncing’ knot to lessen catastrophic snaggings on rock edges and kelp stalks.

The knot is not fool proof, but it sure does help a lot. There should be some photos here somewhere describing how to tie it. Its fixed nature means you’re stepping away from the common beliefs associated with loop knots and free-swinging flies, but it seems to make no difference. If anything, the hook-up rate on snapper is enhanced.

CLEAN WATER IS GOOD

And to my surprise I discovered that fly fishing worked best in this shallow rocky environment during periods of calm weather when the sea was relatively flat and clear. This was quite the opposite to what I had learnt as a teenager from my bait fishing peers. Storms were good in their view. Dirty stirred up water and rough seas bring snapper on the bite.

To reject this old idea took some doing. In time I had to acknowledge that flies intended for snapper, fished better in clear water than they did in water of low visibility.

With nothing but the visual appeal of the fly encouraging fish to bite, it quickly became obvious that the fish had to be able to see the fly first! The great ‘Catch 22’ was of course — if the water was clear enough for snapper to see your fly, then they could also see you. Stealth became important.

In time I realised that fly fishers hunting snapper must bring into play all their best fly-fishing skills. Stalking comes to the fore, as does observation. Sneaking around looking for good looking snapper holes while hiding your bodily presence and keeping one eye on the local reef fish is all part of the game. The reef fish are a particular pain. Parore (luderick) are common and can be like ducks on a back-country river. I hate them. Once spooked, a fleeing parore can put every other fish in a kelp rimmed rock hole totally on edge.

So, I sit down a lot. And keep the sun behind me. No shadows on the water and no waving arms. With a slow approach you can even stand still by the water and see amazing things. But getting a fly in the water from that position without spooking fish is not easy.

I prefer to cast from afar. Study the hole and figure out how you can get a cast in there from as far away as possible. Keep your movements low and slow and try to keep most of your body mass below the water/rock horizon. It’s nice to see a free-swimming snapper, but you’ll catch far more fish if you just look for likely snapper holes and assume that fish are there. You’re effectively reading the landscape and fishing blind.

Darker holes and deep channels that are further out from the shore are an easier target. The fish are in deeper water and are a full cast length away. It is much less likely that they will see you. But do make those first casts count. Every splash and bash will send alarm bells out through the water. Send long, careful casts out and drop that heavy fly onto the water as delicately as you can. Fish the closer water first.

Always hold the fly line tight when the fly is sinking down, hover it deep and bounce it slowly a few times, then speed it out and cast again. Generally, the fish will hit early. Snapper love a heavy fly on the drop. They’re also partial to a fly that hovers, or moves very slowly, near the bottom. They have good eyesight and move quickly. Be ready for takes as soon as the fly lands.

After five or six casts, move on. Either there are no fish there, or you’ve scared the living daylights out of all of them.

GRIP THAT LINE

It is in this way that I work the coast: a cast here, a cast there, and lots of careful looking and watching as I go. The snapper hits come out of nowhere and sometimes take me by surprise. I need to keep constantly reminding myself to grip that line!

You will find that a lot of flies do work on snapper. They are opportunistic feeders and will eat just about every conceivable fly known to mankind. However, I particularly like bulky Clouser type flies that have plenty of wiggly bits and lots of movement. I use plenty of silicone legs these days, plus faux-fur and natural fibres. Anything that moves easily and gives life to a fly at slow speed.

And don’t be afraid to go large. 1/0 and 2/0 flies are standard fare. You can go even bigger. There’s little point in going smaller. Snapper like big flies and bigger snapper like the biggest flies of all. I never really started catching big snapper until I started using big flies.

For this reason, 9-weight rods are something of a sensible minimum. It’s a little difficult trying to cast big bulky flies on anything less. The lifting power of a 10-weight comes in handy too when you’re trying to pull a big snapper out of the weed. There is plenty of room for fishing bulky flies with smaller hooks and dumbbells and downsizing your tackle accordingly, but in a rock reef environment, I think it’s just silly. Especially when big snapper are the target.

My preference is for bright flies in low visibility water and darker more natural coloured flies in water that’s anything close to clear. I can’t honestly say that this has been scientifically tested, but it seems to work for me.

With these flies you can attack a section of coast and come away pleasantly surprised. There are always plenty of sub-legal fish (less than 30 cm fork length) to be had, and enough jarring snapper strikes to keep you on your toes. Snapper hit hard. Their walloping hit and line ripping strike is very addictive. It really does keep you coming back for more.

And yes, there are many other habitats on the coast, away from these wild rocky shores, where you can fish a fly for snapper. Harbour channels can be good and there is some red-hot mangrove fishing in the Far North. Much of it, however, requires local knowledge and access to a boat. The extreme rocky coastlines are, by comparison, very extensive and available to anyone who is willing to walk. For the travelling angler it provides a readily available resource for those wanting to catch a snapper on fly. Google Earth and a sturdy pair of rock walking shoes are all you need.