St Clair & Laura

Scattered throughout Greg French’s astonishingly thorough, 368-page guide book Trout Waters of Tasmania are more gold fly fishing nuggets than you could hope to chase in a lifetime. For several years, one that intrigued me was the entry about Lake Laura.

Laura is a wilderness lake that connects to Lake St Clair via a tiny creek on St Clair’s north-eastern shoreline, in the Cradle Mountain Lake St Clair National Park. Greg’s guide book stated that Laura was identified in the enticingly named 1941 tourism publication Haunt of the Giant Trout as ‘well stocked with trout’, and that wild trout remained today. Apart from Greg’s book, I could not find any information about fishing in Lake Laura.

Greg’s entry was a red rag to a bull — having fallen in love with various waters in the St Clair system, I wondered whether Laura might be another special string in St Clair’s bow. So, Este and I hatched a plan: we’d take our boat to the northern end of Lake St Clair in early autumn, set up camp for a couple of nights in Narcissus Bay, and carry our Alpacka Oryx pack raft (see FL#103) in to Lake Laura.

The helpful parks staff confirmed that this was permissible, provided minimal impact bushwalking practices were followed. In addition to visiting Laura, the plan allowed time to wade some of the best flats in Lake St Clair, and to fish wind-lanes from the boat if midges hatched or beetles were on the wing.

NARCISSUS BAY

Even at the low lake level of minus 2 metres, launching our 4.2 metre tinny at St Clair’s well-constructed boat ramp was a cinch. But five minutes into the 14km journey to Narcisuss Bay, the north-westerly breeze blew-up to over twenty knots. The resulting waves were taller than half-a-metre, causing the expected half-hour journey to take well over an hour. Be warned, conditions like this can spring-up quickly when things get blowy at St Clair.

Arriving at Narcissus Bay, the north-westerly was blowing offshore, and we were relieved to find plenty of protected banks to tie up the boat. Plus, idyllic waterfront campsites in every direction we looked. There were still some hours of sunlight left, so we rigged-up and began wade-polaroiding the western shoreline of Lake St Clair between Hamilton Creek and Echo Point.

In a north-westerly wind, this is one of my favourite shorelines of Lake St Clair to polaroid. Wading in a southerly direction with the sun at your back, the gravelly bottom glows golden yellow, providing magnificent contrast to the brilliant blue water of the lake, verdant green rainforest and jagged dolerite peaks of Mount Olympus.

This particular afternoon, the wind was too strong to polaroid fish cruising the drop-off. Nonetheless, by wading offshore and looking back into the sheltered banks, we managed to spot half-a-dozen smudges in the extreme shallows. In addition, we locked eyes on a couple of fish working beats along fallen logs. The fish eagerly slurped a size 14 foam Jassid beetle, provided we led them by a couple of feet and landed the fly directly within their path. A fun and productive use of very windy conditions.

VISITING LAURA

The next morning dawned to a glassed-off lake and clear blue skies — Lake Laura beckoned. To access Laura, we motored our tinny a few kilometres from Narcisuss Bay to the mouth of the creek that connects Laura to St Clair. From here it was, in theory, a simple matter to anchor the tinny, disembark and follow the bank of the connecting creek about 400 metres from St Clair to Laura.

The reality was not quite so simple, for two reasons. First, the surrounding forest was initially too dense to walk through. The only option was to wade up the connecting creek for the first 200 metres, until the forest understory cleared. That took an arduous 40 minutes, thanks to the obstacle course of fallen logs, tree branches and slippery boulders. In spring or after heavy rain, wading up the connecting creek may be impossible. Secondly, there were no protected places to anchor the tinny — we had to settle on an exposed shoreline. This would require a hot-step departure from Laura, if the wind became anything like the previous day.

Arriving at Laura around 11.00am, we were greeted by a fat brown of about 2lb prowling the densely forested shoreline. Unfortunately, it departed while we geared-up. We spent the next 90 minutes looking for another, wading the extensive shallows north-west of the connecting creek. Rigged and ready, we were greeted by zip.

Encouragingly though, a few fish began to rise towards the middle of the lake — time to inflate the pack raft. When we paddled out, the rising fish were easily spotted in the clear water. But they were relatively small (about 1lb) and impossible to tempt with anything in our fly boxes. Just what they were eating was a mystery. Also visible were a few small fish cruising Laura’s deep eastern bank.

I was beginning to wonder whether Laura only held smallish fish, when we spotted something much larger — a magnificent wild rainbow that looked to be over 4lb. The fish had found a random raft of beetles, and was inhaling them one after the other, like peanuts from a jar. It seemed certain this fish would eat a fly, but it was moving fast. By the time we tied on a foam beetle and paddled within range, the fish had disappeared into Laura’s inky blue depths. A stark reminder that opportunities can be fleeting on Tasmania’s wilderness lakes.

After that, the wind picked up a little and a fish began leaping for black spinners along Laura’s sheltered southern shore. On closer inspection, the culprit was a solid brown that rudely balanced my size 16 spinner pattern on its nose. More fish joined the party and began jumping about. Although some were small, a few were obviously decent. For reasons best left unsaid, we bungled a couple of fish we really should have caught.

Then just as Laura was turning it on, the wind picked-up significantly. Our thoughts turned to the exposed boat anchorage and we hastily departed, leaving the lee shore spinner party in full swing. The day’s scorecard was not pretty: a dreaded skunking. But the bigger picture was exciting: Laura is a stunningly beautiful and challenging wilderness water that remains well-stocked with wild trout.

ST CLAIR, FLATS-STYLE

It was very tempting to return to Laura the next day to settle the score, but we wanted to spend time enjoying our favourite genre of Tasmanian fly fishing: ‘flats-style’ sight fishing for shallow-water cruisers.

While many St Clair shores drop abruptly into deep water, the lake boasts some magnificent gravel, weed and sand flats with transparently clear water. In warm and sunny conditions, these areas offer sight-fishing akin to saltwater bonefish flats, but with the added attraction of mountain views, refreshingly cool fresh water, and mesmerising dry-fly eats.

The flats at St Clair Lagoon are an excellent place for this style of fishing. But over the past few seasons we’d also seen plenty of fish on flats in the lake proper. The trouble was, whenever we fished the lake flats, we always fished from the boat. While we caught some nice fish, many spooked as we waved our arms about casting from the bow. The solution was obvious: we needed to adopt a lower profile by getting out of the boat, and into the water.

After some morning tailers interrupted breakfast, we began our final day by wade polaroiding the long gravel flat in Narcissus Bay, north-east of the Narcissus River mouth. At first the lake was glassed off, and the fish were untouchable. But as the onshore breeze kicked-in, it was game on. In short succession, we caught several fish on small foam beetle and black spinner patterns. Each fish caught was spotted in shin-deep water or less, lying still or slowly cruising, face into the wind — a classic example of the common experience in Tasmania of fish holding or cruising a windswept shore, eating the food that blows in.

After lunch, we motored to the luminous yellow sand flats of Ida Bay and disembarked for more flats fishing. There was no wind at all now. But this time, the glassy conditions didn’t bother the fish. We were treated to a polaroiding paradise, with three nice browns and one rainbow intercepted as they cruised the bay’s gorgeous hard sand flats.

By the time we’d finished fishing Ida Bay, the afternoon had grown late, and several perfect wind lanes had formed offshore. Predictably, when we reached the wind lanes in our boat, they held dozens of noses breaking the surface. The wind lane risers initially provided fast sport on foam beetles presented immediately in their path. But as the evening progressed, they became locked on to a thick midge hatch. The technique we use on Lake Burbury and Great Lake midge feeders (see FL #111) produced just one fish, from over 30 presentations. My next challenge at St Clair is to figure out its fussy evening midge feeders.

ONE OF TASSIE’S BEST

Previous FlyLife articles have discussed the excellent fly fishing in St Clair Lagoon, Shadow and Forgotten lakes, and along Lake St Clair’s southern beaches (see FL#77, 94 & 96). In my view, you can add Lake Laura, plus the flats and wind lanes of Lake St Clair proper, to the list of gems in the St Clair system. If you don’t have access to a boat, see the accompanying notes on foot and ferry access.

Notably, Greg’s guidebook observes, ‘Just why the Lake St Clair system has failed to become very popular among anglers is a mystery — it is undoubtedly one of the very best trout fisheries in Tasmania today.’

While I have far less experience fishing Tasmania than Greg, I’ve seen few other anglers at St Clair, and I agree. Perhaps the lack of popularity relates to the relatively small fish size — in my experience, fish in the St Clair system mostly range between one and three pounds. Thus, the reward is rarely a trophy. It lies in the World Heritage Area beauty, and in the joy of stalking wild trout in crystal clear water, using dry flies, light tippet and 3- or 4-weight rods. If finesse sight-fishing in a stunning wilderness setting floats your boat, St Clair is one of the best places to spend those precious Tasmanian blue sky days.

FOOT & FERRY ACCESS

Echo Point to Narcissus Bay. Accessed by walking the famous Overland Track from Cynthia Bay to Echo Point (11km one way) or the Narcissus Hut (17.5km one way) and camping overnight. Or by catching the regular ferry service from Cynthia Bay to Echo Point or the Narcissus Hut, which enables a return day trip. Note that accessing the gravel flat north-east of the Narcissus River on foot requires crossing the river upstream from the hut, then following the eastern bank of the river to St Clair’s shoreline.

Lake Laura. During dry periods and low lake levels, Lake Laura appears accessible on foot by crossing the Narcissus River upstream of the hut, then following St Clair’s north-eastern shoreline to Laura’s connecting creek (a distance of approx. 3 to 4km each way). Note that Laura seems suitable for day trips only — we did not see anywhere you could pitch a tent. Bring a pack raft if possible.

Ida Bay. While Ida Bay’s flats are only accessible by boat, similar hard sand flats are car accessible along St Clair’s southern beaches. Great sand and weed flats also exist in St Clair’s Derwent Basin, partly accessible on foot (from the IFS angler access at the top of St Clair Lagoon) and fully accessible by boat, kayak or pack raft.