For those of you unfamiliar with Nick and his company Gin Clear, they make some great flyfishing films. In fact the latest instalment, Hatch, narrated by Greg French, is one of the finest flyfishing films I’ve seen.

Besides making their own films, Gin Clear has run the Rise Film Festival every winter now for several years. Besides showcasing new flyfishing films from around the world, the festival usually features Nick’s latest project. This year I’m told that will be a film called Predator, and if it’s anything like Hatch it should be a treat.

This winter the Rise Film Festival will travel to destinations including Perth, Darwin, Hobart, Launceston, Burnie, Melbourne, Ballarat, Canberra, Albury, Bowral, Sydney, Central Coast and Brisbane. For more information, local show dates and details, visit www.gin-clear.com

With winter almost here, tailing trout and midge (chironomid) feeders are presently providing the feature fishing here at Millbrook. It’s great fun, but not easy – the fish are very short-sighted as they grub for scud and snails in the weed, or hunt for the prolific midge pupa on cloudy light wind days. Still, fast pin-point accurate casts with a Carrot trailing a stick caddis or buzzer usually bring a response, if not always a solid hook-up!

Cairn Curran 10 years ago.

During the ‘noughties’ the central lakes, like so many Victorian waters, were severely tested by ongoing drought. But since 2010 good rainfall returned and almost immediately the fishing followed. I fished and enjoyed the recovery of course – these lakes are just up the road. Yet something wasn’t quite the same as the old days. Whether it was the changed lake-scape, for example the flooded saplings and bushes that didn’t exist pre 2000, or the fact that the really big fish were yet to reappear, I didn’t get the sense of déjà vu I was expecting.

In the latest issue of Flyfisher (12) I wrote an extensive piece on the lakes and over the last couple of days, I fished them hard for the first time since that story appeared. Mid May was always a favourite time for me, when the transition to winter seemed to galvanise the cryptic browns especially, back into action. And I have to admit that, besides simply wanting to fish on a couple of days off, I was keen to see how what I wrote in the article was holding up.

Newlyn today.

This time, it was like being on the lakes of old. The water had the cold clarity of Mays long past; the slightly tannin-ish tint that followed the recent rapid refilling was gone. I recognised old fence-lines, logs and rocks that had been hidden by freakishly high levels in May last year. There was always a receding of water levels over summer, even in the pre drought years, and seeing the lakes with a metre or so less water actually restored a late autumn familiarity. The fishing was familiar too. Sighting a fish – even the faintest single dimple or distant smelter – added immeasurably to the chances of success. I did a lot of blind casts while waiting for a trout to move somewhere, but ultimately the 7 I landed were either fish I covered immediately, or fish I caught in the vicinity of where I’d spotted one. Same for the ones I missed, and there were a few of those!

Hepburn today.

The clincher for a sense of things having turned full circle, was several encounters with really big fish. I think the central lakes are, for the most part, truly back.

Just prior to the trip blizzards hit the mountains causing air and water temperatures to plummet and while we were subsequently blessed with soft sunny autumn days, the early taste of winter had left its mark. Insect numbers were much reduced and in the recently iced water, the trout seemed less active than just a week earlier. Still, I had a 22 pounder to repay and Christopher graciously suggested he’d take the balance in increments. Just as well – really big fish were hard to find and even the smaller ones weren’t always cooperative.

But with persistance and regular changes in technique, we slowly accumulated a respectable total. Many of these fish fell to nymphs, although around lunchtime the swallows would begin hunting over the water for the last of summer’s mayfly and caddis, a signal to chance the dry fly. Sure enough, on two afternoons Royal Wulffs and Orange Spinners worked well and late on the third day we guessed that Christopher’s caught-and-released mix of half to 2 pound browns and rainbows would have passed 22 pounds. I was back in credit – if only by the most generous of interpretations!

Filmed this trout at Millbrook chasing baitfish right on the edge of Cabin Lake. It was patrolling like this for at least an hour, back and forth. It would swim right past dozens of minnow in the shallows, then suddenly attack the next lot. Enjoy!

Following a few days on the big water, it was interesting and challenging to revisit a favourite creek, a creek never more than two rod lengths wide. Here, we found plenty of fish rising and some very nice ones too. Yet they were uncommonly hard to fool for supposedly naïve trout in a little stream. Then Mark accidentally snagged a willow just above a pair of rising fish. As he tugged to free the fly, tiny plops fell like raindrops from the branch and the fish went berserk, swooping all over the pool to take…of course, willow grubs! I slapped my forehead at my negligence in overlooking the obvious.

Immediately we swapped to willow grub flies and the response of the fish changed, just like that. Is there a better moment in flyfishing than when you categorically solve the riddle and a frustrating day instantly transforms to a bonanza? We crept upstream like assassins, biding our time as we waited for fish to show – and in the lee of each willow, they inevitably did. We caught 2 pounders we sighted first, and I even managed a 3 pounder that swiped at a dragging willow grub first cast, and then confidently took it on a good drift the second.

Eventually we reached the end of the beat, half an hour later than we planned. Had anyone overheard me and Mark as we skipped back to the car, they might have assumed they were listening to the excited babble of two novices who’d just discovered the joy of flyfishing. And they would have been half right.

 One thing I noticed this trip was the abundance of relatively young trout in excellent condition. It seems the fish must have had a very good winter and early spring, with lots of very chunky 4 to 6 pounders around. At this rate, I can’t imagine how these fish will be going in a couple of months – who needs mice!

Meanwhile, the lodge just goes from strength to strength. It’s never looked better or been more comfortable, and the food’s never been more delicious (thanks Ryan!) This might just be the perfect fishing trip.

Lake Plimsoll - very pretty, but some wind and grey skies would have been nice.

Eventually we ended up in the CentraL Highlands, where a blue sky day was something to celebrate. Great Lake and the Nineteen Lagoons turned on good, honest polaroiding and the world was as it should be.

I was with my good friend & guide Christopher Bassano, for whom I shall be forever grateful for getting the one net shot right with his huge landing net! Can you believe it took a single size 12 b/h PTN – Christopher’s variation which is now of course my favourite fly. It released strongly and it should be there for someone else to catch one day.

Overall it was a pretty amazing story that I’ll tell in full some other time, with lots more pics. And for obvious reasons to do with poachers etc, Christopher and I won’t be giving any more detail about where it was caught.