Chile’s Whitewater Wilderness |
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Page 1 of 5 Chile’s Whitewater Wilderness
While waters remained tame at our put-in site, small rapids soon swept us into more canyon-like turbulence about 200 yards downstream. Yefio guided our raft deftly through the less confrontational channels, around boulders and into position on small pools. My fly-fishing prowess felt a bit rusty at first, but a few minutes of practice casts with the 8-foot, 6-wt. rod smoothed things out. My tenth cast from the bow’s makeshift platform garnered a strike, and a spunky rainbow took to the air. The currents continued to push us downstream and the battle raged on. We watched the trout as it fought in the glacier-blue, snow-runoff waters that varied in depth from three to eight feet. Yefio finally netted the healthy 3 ½-pound fish. After Lilliam took off her gloves and snapped a couple of photos, she returned to admiration of the unique landscape that included small waterfalls, canyon walls and cliffs, roaring creeks and huge boulders, all surrounded by the majestic specter of mountain peaks. We marveled at the crystal-clear Petrohue River that swept over a kaleidoscope of colored rocks and pebbles.
With Yefio back on the oars, we swept around a canyon bend into a long pool with a rock wall on one side and a low, rocky shoreline on the other with a backdrop of the snow-capped Osorno Volcano. He positioned our raft in slow water, and I cast to the pool. The hook-up was immediate and Lilliam didn’t seem to even notice the 5-pounder taking to the air – six times in fact. I finally pulled the rainbow into Yefio’s net and asked my wife to turn the camera on us. “It’s just too pretty in this direction,” she said with a laugh, turning around to fire off a couple of quick shots of my guide and the trout. We drifted through a succession of small rapids and wide pools for another hour in the scenic Petrohue Valley canyon. I landed and released three more rainbows in the 5-pound range. Throughout those wondrous hours, it seemed as though I either had a missed strike, a hook-up or a fish on the line. I enjoyed watching the rainbows strike and the bent-rod action while floating a river just five minutes by car from our lodge’s front door. Our raft rounded one bend just before lunch during an insect hatch, and several trout rose to the occasion. I placed my imitation in the midst of the melee, and it fooled a hungry, frenzied rainbow. In another area, five fat rainbows came to the surface to feed in a deep, fast-flowing pool. They raced for my presentation and I battled the winner for five minutes before it escaped. Hoping to re-ignite the interest of the others, I tossed my fly back to the same spot and soon hooked up with another from the school. At one point we saw a rare pudu deer in the water, huddled against the bank. The endangered species is indigenous to the southern Chile area and is the smallest deer in the world, growing to only 16 inches at the shoulder. Yefio, who normally sees only one or two of these deer each year in more remote areas, speculated that a puma or other predator had spooked the animal from the adjacent woods. As we drew nearer, the pudu bounded away and disappeared into the shoreline trees.
We were a little late starting that morning for the best wet fly and streamer action, according to Yefio. The early bite usually occurs from 7 to 10 a.m. when winds are more moderate and feeding action more prevalent in the 48-degree waters. Brown trout up to five pounds are a strong possibility then. Even so, I enjoyed more than enough action during our mid-morning affair on the river.
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The scenery distracted me, but only momentarily. Two casts later, my Muddler Minnow fooled another trout, but the action proved brief as the rainbow jumped and waved the white flag all too soon. I quickly engaged another slightly smaller trout, and Yefio stopped his oaring long enough to net the rainbow. He unhooked it and released the colorful fish.
