Gone Fishing

One fly-fisherman and Member explains the thrill of the bite.

Why would anglers thousands of kilometers from New Zealand care about the country’s native beech trees? The answer lies in the extraordinary interconnectedness of nature.

Every few years, the beech trees produce vast amounts of seeds, which leads to an explosion in the local mouse population. In turn, the rodents are gorged on by New Zealand’s famous brown trout. And it’s these larger-than-usual freshwater fish that draw fly-fishing enthusiasts from all corners of the globe.

“The word goes out that it’s a ‘mouse year,’” says Member David Badger, who packed up his waders to take advantage of last year’s beech “mast” on New Zealand’s South Island.

But turning up doesn’t guarantee trophy-fish snapshots, even for the most experienced of angler. That’s why Badger, 83, enlists the services of a local guide.

“In New Zealand, you don’t cast blindly into the river and hope the fish sees your lure. You walk along the river with a guide and when he sees the fish, he points to it, gets you all prepared and then you try and get that fish to take your fly,” he explains.

Visiting New Zealand for the first time two decades ago, Badger has returned about 15 times. The opportunity to put his sight-fishing skills to the test (“The level of concentration required is extreme”) amid the country’s breathtaking scenery is irresistible, he says.

Originally from Virginia in the United States, where he still has a home, Badger first tried fly-fishing when he lived in Britain in the 1980s. Describing that rookie experience as a “disaster,” he was, nonetheless, captivated by the technique and timing demanded by the sport.

It wasn’t until he retired 20 years ago when he began to truly indulge his passion. Encouraged by his son-in-law and a Scottish friend, Badger traveled to the fishing mecca of Islamorada in the Florida Keys to try his luck with the mighty tarpon, which can weigh up to nearly 100 kilos.

“It’s an incredible sport to stand on the front of a boat for six, seven, eight hours to try and catch one of these fish,” says the keen runner. “It’s a fight between the angler and fish. It’s wild and the adrenaline hit is what you seek.”

The thrill for Badger comes from hooking a fish, not killing it. All the angling he does is catch and release, where the fish is returned unharmed to the water.

“No guide I’ve ever gone with wants to kill a fish. The fish are their livelihood,” Badger explains. “Many guides will kiss the fish before releasing it. Their love of nature is just infectious.”

This spirit extends to Badger’s regular guide in Japan, Motohiro Ebisudani, who takes him to rivers in Tochigi and Gunma (and the odd stocked pond closer to Tokyo) a few times a year.

“Ebi has taken me to places in the mountains that are identical to New Zealand—just spectacular,” he says. “The native trout are not big and not hard to catch and it’s a great day out.”

While the pandemic has restricted Badger’s overseas adventures, the hiatus has reinforced his zeal for the “one-on-one.”

“Fishing has given me great satisfaction, the chance to travel to different parts of the world and a skill that I’m still learning,” he says. “And experiencing the true beauty of Mother Nature has added a whole dimension to my life.”

Words: Nick Jones
Image: David Badger on New Zealand’s Matakitaki River