THE ONLY THING the average person knows about Tasmania is that it’s home to a whirling, drooling, homicidal cartoon character with a particular taste for rabbits. Asked for any information beyond that, most folks draw a blank. Even the location of the island is not well known; upon hearing that I was going on a fishing expedition to Tasmania, one friend said, “I didn’t know they had trout in Africa.” (He was thinking of Tanzania, a country in East Africa where, in fact, they do have trout.) However, fly fishermen who are interested in inexpensive, exotic destinations should break out the atlas and familiarize themselves with this small island off the coast of Australia, for it offers beautiful scenery, uncrowded waters, and the chance to catch a double-digit trout.

Around the Globe

The smallest of Australia’s states, Tasmania (often shortened to “Tassie” by its inhabitants) lies about 200 miles south of Melbourne, across the treacherous Bass Strait. For such a small island, it offers visitors no shortage of things to see and marvel at. Tassie is only about the size of West Virginia, covering an area of just over 26,000 square miles, but it features a remarkable array of different climates, terrain, and ecosystems. The western half of the state is an inhospitable labyrinth of steep mountains and deep canyons, where the average annual rainfall is nearly 120 inches, and where the land is battered by the wind and the ocean. The eastern third of the island is more temperate, however, featuring scenic sheep farms, rolling hills and small mountains, and a beautiful coastline.

In the center of the island is a strange and wondrous geologic formation, the Central Plateau, which is a Mecca for Aussie trout anglers. Scoured by a single sheet of ice during the last ice age, the Central Plateau is a stark, rocky plain dotted with thousands of lakes — some natural, others created to form the island’s massive hydroelectric system. These waters range in size from veritable puddles to the monstrous (and aptly named) Great Lake, and many of them hold bragging-size browns and rainbows.

Because of the relatively high altitude and the cool weather on the Central Plateau, even the biggest trout — those that weigh 8 pounds or more — stay in the shallows for most of the summer, which makes for a stillwater fishery unlike anything in the U.S. From late November through February, anglers flock to the area to sight-fish for trout cruising in the shallows, a technique known locally as “polaroiding.” It’s the freshwater equivalent to stalking bonefish on the flats, for the angler must be careful not to spook the fish before making an accurate, well-timed cast. According to one Tassie guide, it’s not uncommon for fishermen to develop a sort of “buck fever” that renders them inept the first time they’re faced with a 10-pound brown sipping dry flies in a foot of water.

Tales of Trout

Over the past decade, I’ve been hearing rumors about the fantastic fishing in Tasmania, but these whispers are usually drowned out by all the publicity about New Zealand, which lies to the east, across the Tasman Sea. The fly-fishing infrastructure in Tasmania is much less developed than that of New Zealand, so American anglers don’t see many ads for Tassie guides and lodges or many articles by writers who have traveled there. Unlike their loud, raucous Kiwi neighbors, Tasmanians are generally reserved, quiet, and not given to boasting, which may explain the lack of international buzz about their lakes and rivers. Either that, or they want to keep this wonderful fishery to themselves.

My friend Sandy Hays and I planned a one-week self-guided tour of the island to investigate the angling possibilities. Because Tasmania has a well-developed system of roads and campgrounds near the good fishing waters, we decided to travel around in a rented campervan (which we call a “motor home” in the U.S.). Of course, no one can check out all the rivers and lakes on the island in one visit, but a campervan does allow you the freedom to move at will and helps to save money on hotel rooms and meals. Keeping costs down was made easier by an exchange rate that paid two Australian dollars for every one American greenback.

In order to experience several different kinds of fisheries — the big “hydro” lakes of the Central Plateau, the famed Western Lakes, and the Macquarie River system — we arranged to fly into Hobart, on the southern coast, and fly out of Launceston, 198 kilometers to the north. One aspect of fishing in Tasmania that made our trip planning easier is that there is public access to almost all waters. Even where rivers flow through private property, landowners will usually grant access to anglers who ask politely. Twice, we knocked on farmhouse doors to get permission, and on both occasions the owners seemed downright pleased to have us on their property. An American accent opens a lot of doors in Tasmania.

Hitting the Road

After we spent a night in Hobart, recovering from the long flights, the first stop on our tour was Salmon Ponds, Tasmania’s only fish hatchery, which is about an hour’s drive northwest of Hobart. Built in 1864, it is the oldest trout-rearing facility in the Southern Hemisphere, and for anyone who has ever been to an American trout hatchery — with its concrete troughs and chain-link fences — the beauty of Salmon Ponds is refreshing. Reflecting the British flair for gardening, the landscaped trout pools are surrounded by gorgeous bushes and exotic trees, and there are benches that allow you to relax while watching big rainbows, browns, brookies, and albino trout cruise lazily in the many long pools.

Salmon Ponds is also home to the Museum of Trout Fishing, which tells the story of the persistent Tasmanians who struggled to bring brown-trout eggs halfway around the world from England in the 1860s. Twice, the precious cargo set sail on the months-long journey, only to have the ice melt before the ship reached Tasmania, ruining the eggs. Finally, on the third attempt, the ship arrived in time, and the fishery was born. The trout raised in the hatchery were then carried on horseback to lakes and rivers all over the island.

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