Philosophy on the fly

Derek Grzelewski and Airedale terrier Maya keep an eye out for trout on the Upper Clutha....
Derek Grzelewski and Airedale terrier Maya keep an eye out for trout on the Upper Clutha. Grzelewski says fly-fishing is not difficult, but it is complex. ''There are a lot of small things that have to come together and unless they add up, nothing...
Fly-fishing for trout (in this case, a large brown) offers a chance to escape everyday life....
Fly-fishing for trout (in this case, a large brown) offers a chance to escape everyday life. Photo by Derek Grzelewski

Wanaka-based author and fly-fisherman Derek Grzelewski is an adventurous soul. He also makes a nice cuppa (even if it is fruit tea), writes Shane Gilchrist.

As burn-offs to the north and south of Bendigo add another layer of grey to an overcast day, the smoke eventually scattered by a strengthening westerly into which a hawk is etching lazy circles, a campervan appears in the distance.

Derek Grzelewski pulls up at a turn-off that leads to a stretch of the Upper Clutha, the passenger seat of his 4WD occupied by an Airedale terrier named Maya, whose nose for adventure is matched by that of her human companion. Like the hawk, Grzelewski is on the hunt, too.

The reason we've met on an increasingly bleak week day afternoon in Central Otago is Grzelewski's latest book, The Trout Bohemia: Fly-fishing travels in New Zealand, in which the Wanaka-based author explores a world inhabited by characters (including himself) who verge on the obsessive-compulsive.

It might be non-fiction but Grzelewski's subject, at its essence, is escapism.

Honouring that theme, the interview offers a chance to exit the office for some hours in the outdoors; however, it's also an excuse for a novice fly-fisherman to glean some much-needed tips from a man who, for more than two decades, has dedicated plenty of time to the pursuit of trout.

Nature, however, has other plans. Thirty minutes after our initial casts into a high Clutha River, the occasional squalls have been superseded by incessant heavy rain which, borne on strong winds, forces us to retire to the relative comfort of Grzelewski's vehicle, a Toyota Land Cruiser campervan that is something of a sought-after commodity for someone who likes to ramble far and wide.

Grzelewski offers hot (organic fruit) tea from a flask and, attempting to ignore the occasional interruption by way of a thud and/or bark as Maya plays outside, he settles in for what turns out to be a long conversation.

Although the 48-year-old contends he is not usually a man of many words, plenty can be found in his various publications, from 2008 effort The Trout Diaries: A year of fly-fishing in New Zealand to 2002 debut thriller novel The Malé Syndrome, and his raft of magazine assignments, including New Zealand Geographic, Australian Geographic, GEO, Reader's Digest and Smithsonian, all of which have provided him with an opportunity to travel the world while indulging a curious disposition.

Yet of all subjects into which Grzelewski has delved, fly-fishing holds the most fascination.

''It engages on so many levels: physically, mentally, even spiritually,'' he says, the intensity of his glacier-blue eyes relaying a deep fascination with the sport.

''You can make it to any level and it will never let you down. There is always more to explore or experience, whether you do it for a few days' a year or months and months at a time.

''Fly-fishing is not difficult, but it is complex; there are a lot of small things that have to come together and unless they add up, nothing really happens in regards catching fish.

''A lot of people get into it and are very keen but they just give up at some point. They get a bit dispirited ... I think we are so busy these days, we just try to squeeze the fishing in. We might think we can go fishing for a couple of hours and wonder why nothing happens.''

He says fly-fishing might offer a chance to relate to our world in a different way, but suggests patience is as important as any tackle.

''A complete attitude change is required. But the river world helps, because it has its own qualities.

"If you pick up any relaxation CD, it will have sounds of running water. This environment is conducive to returning to our natural state - which is as hunters.

''For hundred of thousands of years we were chasing animals. And, especially in New Zealand, trout fishing is hunting because a lot of fishing requires sight fishing - you have to tune into the environment and see what's going on. That's the only way things are going to happen for you.''

That process of looking intently outward also provides a meditative, cathartic flipside, he believes.

''Time on a river allows you a different perspective. It is stepping out of everyday life. From there we can see things differently. I've been to rivers to celebrate and I've been to them in times of need.

''It is an endless journey, really.''

Which is why Grzelewski continues to devote many words to the subject.

Prompted by favourable reviews, both here and overseas, for The Trout Diaries, which was structured in months and featured a range of anecdotes involving friends both old and new, the author ''goes deeper'' in The Trout Bohemia, describing philosophies with as much depth as he devotes to various techniques.

''The Trout Diaries made a bit of noise in the United States and Europe and other places and I thought I might have said all I could about fly-fishing.

"Pretty much all my experience of fly-fishing went into that - close to 20 years - so I was ready to move on. But the response from readers around the world was so good ... I thought I could go deeper.

"There will be another book in two years time, which will complete the series.''

Grzelewski says the title of his latest book describes both a place and a type of person. In fly-fishing circles, New Zealand's waters are regarded as No 1. The country is what the Himalayas are to mountain climbers.

Why?It's due to a combination of factors.

''We don't have a lot of fish compared to other places, but we have the quality. We have big fish and really clear waters.

"Fishing is not easy in New Zealand. There are much easier places to fish,'' he says, mentioning Patagonia (southern Chile/Argentina) or Kamchatka, Russia, where there are ''lots'' of big trout.

''Because it is so tough in New Zealand, the fishing attracts a certain type of person. My experience of travelling around is you meet the same people. It's a migratory pattern; you go where the fishing is good.

"These people, who have travelled all around the world and whose skills are very good, have told me how good the fishing is here.

''A lot of these people are so mad about fly-fishing that they arrange their lifestyles around coming here for four or five months. They just fish. These people are, to me, the bohemians of fishing. And they are not all from overseas.''

Grzelewski too, considers himself one of the tribe.

Employing an approach that extends to flattening the barbs on hooks, he does keep the occasional fish to eat. Still, he is more intent on letting them go, even if they are trophy-sized, and recalls a day when he caught more than 100lb (45kg) of fish but didn't take a single photograph.

''The experience was mine; I didn't need to prove it. I'm just as happy to see a fish rise and not take the fly - they are all valid experiences.

''When you sit down next to a river such as the Clutha and think about how long this water has been flowing ... it puts a whole new perspective on life and your place in the scheme of things. It allows you time and space.

''Sure, your problems might not go away but you could come back better able to handle them.''

This has particular resonance given Grzelewski's background.

Born in Poland in 1964, he left his homeland at the age of 22. Put simply, he'd had enough of living in a communist state.

''Martial law had been imposed in Poland and I got to experience what a totalitarian regime was like. We had tanks going past my parents' house, soldiers in the streets, fights between workers and the army.

''I just disagreed with that. Basically, I was a conscientious objector and didn't want to go into an army that was going around shooting its own people.

''You get to a point where it seems you don't have a choice ... the only thing left was for me to leave. It was quite a big thing, but at the time I didn't have a fear of anything. When you have only one thing left to do, an amazing clarity comes over you.''

An experienced mountaineer, Grzelewski decided to exit his country via unconventional means, climbing through the night into neighbouring Slovakia.

''I had a long background in mountaineering and knew the place very well. There was one part of the border that was - for me, at least - easily negotiable.

''It was a dramatic uprooting. I had to leave everything, pull the ejection cord. I guess that had some formative qualities to it.

"I've been travelling ever since. I'm comfortable being on the move,'' he says, adding that though he has returned to Europe several times since, he hasn't set foot back in Poland.

After spending time in London, Auckland and Christchurch, and working a range of jobs, including as a high-rise cleaner (using his abseiling skills), a professional diver and a freelance film cameraman, Grzelewski ''discovered'' Wanaka while on a climbing trip in the early 1990s.

''I thought, 'ooh, I could live here','' he recalls.

''Within a few months I was. I've been based here ever since.''

In 1993, he secured his first publishing break, an assignment for New Zealand Geographic magazine that was subsequently picked up by Reader's Digest and distributed worldwide, leading to contract work with a range of international publications.

''There was a period of about 10 years when I was travelling extensively but I was always based out of Wanaka. The place has qualities that I've always been attracted to,'' says Grzelewski, who lives at Albert Town in a motorhome, complete with wood-burner, solar power and flamenco guitar.

''I often hear, 'oh, I wish I could do what you're doing'. I think, 'well, try it and see how long you last','' he says with no small measure of circumspection.

''I think we are here to live, not just to make a living. Every life is different and has its own purpose, so there's no point in repeating someone else's.''

It's the same with writing, Grzelewski says. You have to find your own voice.

''I think writing is a very interesting process. You have to live and have experiences and digest them - then you write them down. For me, writing completes the experience. It puts something to rest.

''I've written full-time for the last 20 years and have had some big magazine assignments. Each story has allowed me to experience a particular life for a short time, be it cave-diving or ceramics.

''Some people write just for themselves and that's fine, too. There is a therapeutic quality to it. But I write for readers. I don't think I would hide it.

''Writing is about sharing stories with other people, entertaining them. That's how we engage as people. Story-telling is a foundation of civilisation.

''If I said, 'you won't believe what happened to me yesterday', you'd want to know.''

Well, yes. Particularly if the ending involves landing a fish.

Yet all stories have a life of their own. And seeking trout on a stormy winter's afternoon offers plenty of snags.

The book
The Trout Bohemia: Fly-fishing travels in New Zealand, by Derek Grzelewski, is published by David Bateman. A former professional fly-fishing guide, Grzelewski is the founder of Wanaka Flyfishing Academy and is in talks about developing a TV series based on his 2008 book The Trout Diaries. He also hosts a Trout Diaries radio podcast on iTunes and a website for trout enthusiasts, www.TroutDiaries.net.

Derek Grzelewski will give a public talk at the Otago Anglers' Club, 328A Tomahawk Rd, Ocean Grove, Dunedin, on September 11. Doors will open at 7pm, with talk expected to begin at 7.30pm.

 

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