Lake Fergus Tasmanian Highlands

A visit to Lake Fergus in Tasmania’s Western Lakes region has always been on our to-do list.  Reading Greg French’s article in the latest edition of Flylife Magazine provided us with just the right motivation to make the trip happen. French’s article describes things that fly fishing dreams are made of: plenty of fish, tailing, rising and perfect for polaroiding – conditions well worth the 12km hike.  Best of all there was the possibility that we could have all this to ourselves for the day.

As we headed up the mountain from Launceston, our thoughts turned from the busy working week  to the trek ahead; what gear to take, clothes to wear, weather conditions and of course the fishing!  We packed our gear, set the alarms for 4am and turned in early.

A quick breakfast of bacon sandwiches (Having left the eggs on the counter at home!), and we were on our way.  Arriving at Little Pine Lagoon, we parked at the camp ground, where the track begins.  In his article, French warns that it can be hard to ignore the tailing trout as you pass along the shore of Little Pine.   So with this in mind, our rods in their tubes to avoid distraction, we set out at around 5:15am. The advice proved worthwhile as we spotted a number of good fish in the half hour walk along the shore.  These would have been extremely hard to pass up if our rods had been ready to go.

Our first check point was the foot bridge that crosses the Pine River. Water levels in Little Pine were quite high and due to wet, boggy conditions the walking to this point had been frustrating.  Arriving at the crossing we took the opportunity to have a break and shed some layers. Moving away from the bridge, the track became better defined and the walking easier.  By 7am we sighted Lake Fergus and our spirits rose accordingly – a shade over two hours and we had made it.

It was around this time that Greg spotted the first snake of the day (7:30am!) a shiny black tiger, which retreated under a rock not far from the shore. It then that we made glancing at our feet regularly a priority over scanning the water!

Having decided to walk the Northern shore and with the sun still low in the morning sky, polaroiding fish was going to be tough. It was not long before we started spooking fish, still in their lays close to the shore, prompted us to rig the rods, ready for action.  We had opportunities to cover fish however most of them stayed doggo and it proved difficult to get them to take.

My first real chance arose at the beginning of the marsh area, in the open gutter between the pin rushes and the bank. Armed with my CDC hopper I covered a nice fish cruising, my fly disappearing as the shallow water erupted! Charging through the gutter before turning and jumping clear of the water, the fish headed toward the pin rushes and relative safety. My line went slack...mentioning a few choice words to myself...I moved on to the next target.

Although the numbers of fish cruising here was in our favour, presentation was difficult. With the wind in our face, spooky fish, and a narrow margin for error, we failed to produce anything solid.  Some fish rolling over the fly, others refusing, short takes too. Changing flies didn’t improve the situation.  With our frustration levels rising Greg and I paused to discuss our next move.  It was still early but the marsh area seemed to go on forever,  both agreeing that  we would have liked to see the water a foot or so higher, in order for the marsh to be at its best. Greg convinced me that to circumnavigate the lake was the only way we would get a full appreciation of it.  We moved on hoping that our fortunes would improve.

At the western end of Fergus we found a break in the marsh where a few fish were rising consistently. They were just out of reach from the shore, but upon entering the water I found a soft bottom, thick weed beds and a water level precariously close to the top of my waders. So as the fish continued rising contently in front of me, tauntingly just out of reach, I retreated to the shore, defeated.

As we approached the Southwest corner of the mash, we noted numerous rises on the lake side. In the lea of the wind, we found some wadeable water, enabling us to use the sun behind us to scan for fish working on spinner being blown out of the rushes. Working the marsh edges we hadn’t gone far when I heard Greg holler “I’m on!”.  Having polaroided a fish cruising in close, he led it with a Daniel Hackett inspired red spinner tie and was now holding on while the fish took a run for the deep. As Greg bought the fish close to hand, I tried to get over for some pictures. The camera shy fish had other ideas shaking the hook before I got the camera out. One down.

By about 11am, there were a few gum beetles on the water so I tied on a small red tag. Spotting the next fish cruising at the eastern point of the marsh, I covered it. The fish took and the hook up was solid.

The fish started taking confidently. They were in top condition with large brown dots on bright golden flanks, full of fight. Greg French’s promise of dreams coming true was starting to take shape. As we moved along behind the marsh we managed to hook some, miss others and break-off at least two each. The ones we broke-off were large, hooked close to the pin rushes, and each knew exactly how to get rid of a hook and leader.

During a break for lunch was we decided to ditch our packs, allowing us to wade with more confidence (we were a bit timid wading with thousands worth of camera gear in our packs!). Having moved east about a kilometre or so in order to wade and Polaroid back to the marsh, a westerly wind blew in and made this difficult, only seeing a few fish, all close in and moving toward us. Arriving back at the marsh fish were moving in the same fashion as when we left them earlier.  Another wade along the same route produced similar results.

As we headed back to our bags we noticed some small fish tailing in close (At around 2pm with sun shining!!).  A couple of casts to them saw our flies drowned so we moved on.  Around the point we were again surprised to find more fish doing the same, Greg covered the first, which took and to his delight was not small at all.  Taking a shot at the next, I got a solid take only to lose the fish after a few short seconds. A quick inspection of my hook revealed a more open than usual gape, probably from one of the monsters of the marsh!  We continued back to our bags, spooking a few more fish out of the shallows along the way.

As we sat contemplating the walk home, taking in the scenery while re energising with some water and muesli bars, from the corner of my eye I see something moving along the shoreline toward us two inches off the bank.  I grabbed my rod, fired out a quick cast which was off mark, recast, the fish surged at the fly, a rise, a pause, then a commotion as the fish realised it was hooked!  As it thrashed around on the side of the lake my line went slack..... Continuing to thrash while not realising it was free, lunging out of the water only to find its way back in, finally applying the afterburners and heading for the middle of the lake.  Another few choice words on my behalf (which may or may not have been captured on video camera!!). Another rise heard a disturbance on the water, only a cast away to the left, covering the fish, the take came and this time I was not letting it go, after a huge initial run the fish came to hand, smiled for the camera and was off to fight another day.

We loaded our packs onto sore shoulders and walked the edge of the lake back to the east to complete our lap. We continued to see fish, until we reached the sandy banks near the outflow around 5pm. With the rods packed away, water bottles refilled we started toward home. We had not trudged far when a 4WD vehicle stopped on the track above, the driver seemed to be moving gear around in the car. Stopping to say hello, we were surprised by his offer of a lift out to Little Pine. He could probably tell by the smiles on our faces, and knowing that he had saved us from two hours of walking, he had made our day! Turns out that the land owner of the private property surrounding the lake had called in for the afternoon to fish (only his second trip for the year, mind you!!). By 5:30 we were back at the car...... a perfect way to end an awesome day at Fergus

I wouldn`t say it was a red letter day by any means, not the dun hatch we were expecting especially considering that the weather appeared to be perfect for it. The fish rise with confidence which is a nice change from ones that can tell you that the tie of your fly is not quite right, in heavily fished waters. Due to our persistence we had caught a good number of fish, all on dry`s and most of them were spotted before casting to them.

A fortunate encounter with the land owner had shortened our day and was gratefully repaid at the Highland Lakes Lodge for happy hour..... What a day!!