Robinson Crusoe style fishing
- Details
- Published on Wednesday, 18 November 2009 17:59
- Written by Bruce Sandison
Launching a boat that day was impossible. A summer storm raged across Lago Yelcho, howling out of the north from the ice-fields and jagged peaks of the Cordillera de los Andes mountains. I was marooned on my island, Isla de Monita, in Chilean Patagonia, 1,000 miles south from Chile’s capital, Santiago, just as certainly as Robinson Crusoe had been marooned on his island, Mas a Tierra, 400 miles west from the old city of Valparaiso.
Isla Monita is owned by a group of men who love trout fishing. Which is where I came in. From Inverness on an icy November morning to the blistering heat of Patagonian summer. The owners had invited me to look after their lodge for six months. I flew Scotland’s flag and wore my kilt for the journey. Nobody batted an eyelid in Inverness or London. A few smiled in Amsterdam. Sao Paulo in Brazil was an entirely different matter and at 0500hrs in Santiago I thought I was about to be arrested.
Isla Monita is a magical place to be marooned “…full of noises, sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.” There is only one dwelling on the tree-covered isle and it was built in the 1960’s; raised above the ground, timber-peaked with red-painted, overlapping wood tiles. All the construction materials had to be rowed down the 1,000ft deep lake from Puerto Cardenas in the north; a wicked, muscle-wracking, 22 mile haul, constantly exposed to the vagaries of wind and weather.
I had read Charles Darwin’s description of the area in The Voyage of the Beagle, but nothing could have prepared me for the sudden shock of seeing for the first time the majestic, impenetrable Patagonia temperate rain forest; thousands of square miles of deciduous and coniferous trees, climbing from sea-level to cover mountain tops more than 5,000ft in height.
I marvelled at luma, with stilt-like roots and fragrant leaves; the bright green foliage of tica; canelo, the sacred tree of the Mapucho Indians; the red-shredded bark of arryan, summer-covered in delicate white flowers; coigue, the most common forest species, 150ft tall with a trunk 13ft in diameter at the base; the mighty alerce, longest-lived of all Chilean trees, some of which survive for more than 3,000 years.
The lodge surveys these wonders from a plateau carved into a shoulder of the island. Cropped grass bounded by a bamboo fence leads to an orchard full of the scent of apple, cherry and plum trees. Humming birds worry banks of scarlet fuschia; black-necked swans parade gracefully across the bay; reeds rustle in the wind, nodding with crystal droplets. The forest resounds with the call of giant wrens and striped woodpeckers. From the lake comes the haunting call of the Chilean great grebe.
Isla Monita is surrounded by snow-capped peaks. From my bedroom window I looked onto Co el Plomo (6,756ft), a miniature Matterhorn enfolding a shining white hanging glacier. Tiny streamlets tumble from the glacier, streaking the forest silver, cascading endlessly over ancient precipices, hurrying ice-melt waters to Lago Yelcho, painting the lake myriad shades green, yellow and blue.
Lago Yelcho is one of the most productive and exciting fisheries in Chile. The Lake contains excellent stocks of brown trout, rainbow trout and brook trout. The best of the fishing is at the southern, shallow end of the lake, close to Isla Monita. The Rio Futaleufu is the principal feeder stream and the island divides the flow of the river into two large bays: Cascada to the east, Huala to the west. Huge trout prowl through the backwaters and eddies where the river enters the lake.
Directly opposite the lodge is Yeco Bay, named after cormorants which use a large tree-stump as a roost. La Cabana stream feeds Yeco Bay with cold waters from Co Moragna (6,063ft). Brook trout and large brown trout gather in the river estuary in search of food. Fish of over 7lb have been caught and my best brook trout was a magnificently speckled specimen weighing 4lb 8oz. I watched, transfixed, as I saw him leave his bank side lair and rush to take my fly.
The most distant of the Isla Monita fishings involves an exhilarating 40 minute boat trip north to the Bay of the Glacier, giving wonderful views westwards to Ventisquero Glacier and wonderful fishing along two miles of tree-fringed margins. Closer to the lodge, 15 minutes by fast boat, is another small bay where a spectacular waterfall raises a mist cloud above a deep pool. I have seen trout in the teens of pounds gliding in and out of the pool, and cast over them, again and again, but without success.
The lodge has fishing on five other lakes as well as on Lago Yelcho. They are tiny by comparison with Yelcho, and they vary is size from 50 to 100 acres. But they also contain splendid trout and offer some of the finest fly fishing to be found anywhere in the world. The average weight of fish caught is around the 3lb mark, but all the small lakes (lagunas) hold fish up to and over 10lb in weight. My favourite is Chava, secluded and guarded by the tree-clad slopes of Montte Verde (6,207ft).
The lake lies like a silver butterfly amidst dense green forests and it is fed by streams from the snow fields. The water is aquamarine and Chava is scattered with tiny islets and reed-fringed corners where huge emerald and gold insects hover and turn. The air is full of the sound of wren and ibis and the happy splash of rising trout. Chava is fished from the boat and the trout are of exceptional quality.
Because the water is so clear it is often possible to see fish rising, ghost-like, from the depths to take your fly, or, tantalisingly, to turn away at the last moment and glide slowly back into the darkness.
All of the Isla Monita fishing is by fly only and most guests use barbless hooks. Apart from trout for the table, all fish are returned. Nothing is certain in angling, but it is more likely than not that you will catch your biggest-ever trout at Isla Monita. Well, that is what I told an America doctor, ‘Mad Dog’ Malchon, a Vietnam War Veteran, as I pushed the boat out one morning on Chava. Two hours later we hadn’t seen a fin, let alone had an offer, Mad Dog turned to me and inquired, quizzically, “Bruce, are you the guy who called the witch doctor a Son of a Bitch?” “Sorry, Mad Dog”, I replied, “Tomorrow, I will wear my kilt and sing to them. That always works.”
Bruce Sandison is a writer and journalist and author of nine books, including the definite anglers' guide, 'The Rivers and Lochs of Scotland' which is being revised and updated prior to republishing.
He contributed to 'Trout & Salmon' for 25 years and was angling correspondent for 'The Scotsman' for 20 years. Sandison writes for the magazine 'Fly Fishing and Fly Tying' and provides a weekly angling column in the 'Aberdeen Press & Journal'.
His work, on angling, Scottish history and environmental subjects, has appeared in most UK national papers, including 'The Sunday Times', 'The Telegraph', 'The Daily Mail', 'The Herald', 'Private Eye', 'The Field' and in a number of USA publications.
Sandison has worked extensively on BBC Radio. His series 'Tales of the Loch' ran for 5 years on Radio Scotland and was also broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and on BBC World Service. His series, 'The Sporting Gentleman's Gentleman' and his programme 'The River of a Thousand Tears', about Strathnaver, established his reputation as a broadcaster.
Sandison has had extensive coverage on television. He wrote and presented two series for the BBC TV Landward programme and has given a number of interviews over the years on factory-forestry, peat extraction, wild fish conservation and fish farming.
Sandison is founding chairman of 'The Salmon Farm Protest Group', an organisation that campaigns for the removal of fish farms from Scottish coastal and freshwater lochs where disease and pollution from these farms is driving wild salmonid populations to extinction.
Bruce won 'Feature Writer of the Year' in the Highlands and Islands Press Awards in 2000 and in 2002, and was highly commended in 2005. Bruce lives near Tongue in Sutherland with his wife Ann.