The pinnacle of flyfishing in the Western Lakes of Tasmania is surely to sight-fish your catch. It follows that the opposite must be to blank after a day blind flogging the water. Yet, polaroiding a trout can be very difficult if conditions in the Western Lakes are not picture-perfect – which they rarely are. So, how to improve our chances in such a stunning wild fishery when conditions aren’t perfect?

The Western Lakes is not a place to ‘chuck and chance’ it. The trout numbers are quite low and therefore we have to begin by considering the known knowns of the fishery. Things like the season, time of day, temperature, rainfall, water clarity, wind speed and direction, water levels, and what might be called common knowledge; i.e. information gleaned from reputable anglers through books, articles, guides, expert recreational fishers, and so on. If possible, we would like hints about where the trout might be (shallow, deep, around weedbeds, etc.), what they might be eating, and how to best present that item.

Armed with that initial information, we make a ‘SWAG’, which is a Scientific Wild Ass Guess. Here, luck plays a significant role in achieving success! A salient example of a fish that one would SWAG, is to do everything right according to what you know, only to have a fish come up without any warning and eat your fly as you drag it behind you. That happened to me more than once in the Western Lakes!

Whilst quick to claim a SWAGed catch, it leaves most of us feeling slightly empty. We like to catch a fish with skill rather than what feels like a decent chunk of random chance. We can do this by closely observing things such as: waterway contours and structure, depth, substrate, potential trout food; plus noting any visible signs of fish, including rises and even spooked fish. With this information, we can develop and test theories about where the trout are likely to be.

When we apply reasoning like this, we make a ‘STAG’, which is a Scientific Tight Ass Guess. Yes, I made that up! An example of a STAG occurred at Tin Hut Lake this trip. As I waded past a rocky bank, I spooked a trout holding between the rocks. Hmmm. Then, five minutes later, I nearly stood on another big fish as I stepped carefully through the slippery rocks. Rather than ignoring these two vital clues, I deduced that trout were holding in or around the rocky structure I was walking over.

Then I saw a dun pop around the rocks and drift over the edge into the deep, followed moments later by another. Clearly, we know when there are duns around, fish could (should?) feed on them. I didn’t see any obvious signs of feeding, yet I put the theories together, and figured the trout might not be visible in open water, because they were ambushing their prey (duns) from inside or hard up against the rocks. With my new STAG theory formed, I changed my stonefly to a dainty CDC dun, and presented it so it drifted over the rocks. A few minutes later, a big brown sailed out from the rocks. It cruised straight to my dun and its head came out to inhale my fly. Counting a long ‘twenty-one’, I lifted, and after some acrobatics to avoid the fish wrapping me around the very rocks it came from, I succeeded in landing a fine brown. I had still needed some good fortune to catch it, but the STAG paid off and luck played a much smaller part than with a SWAG fish.

A STAGed fish is very rewarding, yet sometimes we can reason to the point of almost zero uncertainty. That’s when we move to the ‘SNAG’: the Scientific No Ass Guess. If we know the exact location of the fish, the food it is eating, and presentation required, then we reduce the amount of luck to the smallest extent possible (though it is never zero!).

I have no examples from the Western Lakes, but I did SNAG a few fish on the Meander River just days before. One was a nice trout I polaroided at the back of a pool. It swayed right every so often to eat a nymph in the current before dropping back to slower water. My first cast was therefore to its right, with a small bead-head nymph. The fish moved, I saw its mouth flash, and it was on. A SNAGed fish is a great reward when it all comes together.

Ironically, one success factor on this Tassie trip was hiking with a non-flyfisher, my wife. She is a great trout spotter and because she doesn’t fish, I was motivated not to bore her with periods of blind flogging. So we hiked a lot, and I was able to observe so much more than I normally would. I often got to think about the STAG and SNAG methods, including catching fish without tiring myself flogging the water all day long.

I also learned perhaps the true meaning of that famous quote from Henry Thoreau: ‘It is not what we look at, but what we see’, by including plenty of observation into a well-reasoned approach. This can transform a possibly empty-handed day into one with STAGed or SNAGed fish. Try it out next time you are on the water and things are looking tough. You never know which theories may work for you!