So Brendan where are you based and where are you fishing these days?

So I’m working in Cabramurra, living on the work site, which is incredible as it means I’m right near some ripper Snowy Mountains fly fishing. Works well doing some guiding work with Aussie Fly Fisher living so close to the fishery and getting to know it so well.

“ It’s only the minor details that have changed. Now I own the land cruisers when dad owned them before. Fishing has always been there. ”

What about being in the high country is so great from a fishing perspective?

Well with the price of fuel at the moment being so ridiculous, it is pretty nice being in the thick of it. Because I'm staying up here during the week and the drive is just that little bit too far to go home, I can stay here and get into them after work.

I knock off at 5:30pm generally and still have a couple of hours of daylight left to go fishing. I mean what else am I going to do in Cabramurra? Go to the pub? That's alright one day a week, but leaves a few afternoons for fishing opportunities. I have a long list of spots to explore that are within a half an hour or so drive. It’s 17 minutes from this little donger I’m living in to the top of the Eucumbene River.

“I would say 80% of the time when I go fishing, I’m hunting those fish. ”

So Cooma is normally home, is that where you cut your teeth with fishing

Nah definitely not. I mostly grew up in Mission Beach in far north Queensland. If you know Cairns and Townsville, it’s pretty much smack bang in the middle. So I cut my teeth fishing in general with Dad up there. Whenever we were home, every second day we’d be fishing. Sneak down in the evening to the ramp or the rivers or the beach, and smack a few jacks, flatties, whatever was around. On the weekend we’d go and chase a few GTs, whack some spaniards (Mackerel).

Photo credit: Jimmy Barwick, SVFF

So how long ago did you come down to Cooma?

So we left Mission Beach when I was 15. Went back to Port Macquarie where I was born. No fishing for me then, I was racing motocross and doing other things. Moved to Brissy for 4 years after. Mum and Dad were looking for a little block to buy, and they were looking around New England which dad liked for hunting and trout fishing. They ended up coming across a block in Adaminaby which ticked all the boxes, so they popped off down there instead. I’ve got a younger sister who’s just turned 18 recently. I’ve been in Cooma for about 6 years, because I wanted to stay close to her when she was growing up. So I’ve been in and around here for a while and haven’t looked back.

“I can walk all day, but if there isn’t a thin blue line or an animal at the end of the trail, I’m not going down there. ”

What was all that like? Because Cooma, Port Macquarie, Mission Beach, are all very different. I’ve only known you in Cooma, so I think you and Cooma go hand in glove - you seem made for it. But really your upbringing was at one end the spectrum, and now you live in a town, and climate, at the other end. What’s that like?

Yeah Mission Beach, Port Macquarie, Brissy, Cooma, a bit different.

On paper the journey probably looks wild but having lived it, it doesn’t feel wild. One location has just been an extension of the other. As far back as I can remember we’ve been driving around in old land cruisers and catching fish. It’s only the minor details that have changed. Now I own the land cruisers when dad owned them before. Fishing has always been there.

“It was time for a fresh start moving back home to this part of the world for Mum and Dad. Somehow though, Dad’s box-set of A River Somewhere made it all the way south. ”

When I was younger I was focussed on a lot of other stuff. Raced motorbikes a lot. That consumed a lot of time, and was my main past-time. I fell out of that pretty quickly and that kicked me off to get back to the fun of things. Enjoying the ‘non-seriousness’ of fishing and hunting was great.

So that’s the story. Things come and go, but some things remain constant. As you know, and most of the people you interview would know, a lot of these things will be with you forever. Fishing is like that.

Yeah interesting point. I did a similar thing, was into fishing as a kid with dad, then fell away from it when I was 12 or 13 until I was about 20. Then I got back into it in a big way. What was your experience having had a bit of time off or time away? Was it different between when you were 10 years old and when you were 20 years old?

Completely different. All of the stuff I did when I was younger was completely different. If you wind it back to the start, fishing meant pumping yabbies, then we’d try and catch bream or mangrove jacks with the yabbies. We’d park up in whichever boat dad had at the time, the poly or the hooker, and smack bream and jacks. That’s not what it’s like in Cooma or Cabramurra.

That’s funny - my experience is similar. Fishing used to be dumping an Opera House net in the channel to get some yabbies, then going down the river to fish with them.

Only our Yabbies up in Queensland were 3 inches long, yours in the Riverina were 3 feet long.

Another thing was snorkeling around the islands - Dunk Island and so on. It is just mental out there. But while up there fishing fell to the back burner for the better part of 10 years. Then when I moved back down here I did a bit of spin fishing for trout with Dad. He was trying to figure it out again from years gone by; I was trying to figure it out from the get go. So we had a couple of dry runs, then started picking a few little ones up. Then somehow fly fishing entered the conversation, and I never looked back. I bought a full kit, and was into it.Weird, because I had the background to pick it up from a young age, but didn’t until heaps later.

“All the bigger fish we found that day came up and nosed the fly, then you’d see the whole back coming out of the water as they headed back down.”

Yeah I was sort of the same. I cast a fly rod as a kid, but never caught a fish, and didn’t properly pick it up until my twenties. I think about that now and think holy smokes I was late to fly fishing. But people come and go from it - my Dad has just ramped it right back up again and he’s 60.

Yeah I’ve met heaps of people that only pick it up at 40 or 50 years old.

My old man had a fly rod early for fishing in New England, well before I was around. He said to me once that he knew fly fishing would be a really good thing, and he’d enjoy it, but he didn’t want to delve right into it, in case he burnt it out. He didn’t want to ‘burn the candle too early’. For whatever reason. Then we went up north, and fly fishing meant chashing sport fish on massive Clousers. So when we came here, he almost had to start again with trout. We were kind of learning together, and we’re still learning together. We’re always throwing ideas around about what the fish might be doing, and how to fool the bastards.

Yeah Dad used to rinse A River Somewhere in the ‘90s. He knew fly fishing would be awesome. He wanted to be Rob Sitch or Tom Gleisner but never really committed until we both got into it, so we have figured it out together. It’s definitely one of the coolest things we’ve done together.

We’ve had the box-set of A River Somewhere sitting there since way back. When we moved from Mission Beach we came down in an old white tray back cruiser. The classic. Dad had the tinny on the roof, trailer behind, and mum brought her car too. It was time for a fresh start moving back home to this part of the world for Mum and Dad. Somehow though, Dad’s box-set of A River Somewhere made it all the way south.

What about now, I’m imagining you are gearing up for the summer. Do you think your a chance for a day on par with that lights out day you had last season?

Yeh no reason she won’t be red hot fishing again this season.

That day last year was good. Cracker day with 4 old boys. All four guys who were super keen to be out there. I split up from our other guide, Jimmy Barwick, and we took two of the clients each. A big piece of water that we were able to break up between us.

Towards the end of the day when all of us regrouped, a couple of the guys wanted to have one final crack before finishing up. Breaking down the pool next to the car, I started talking this guy through the plan, unpacking how we were going to find a brown trout. I got him to lay a few casts down, and on the second or third, bang, he was onto a cracking brown. A very good trout. He gets it to the net and we’re all carrying on and yahooing, all six of us, having a great time. We were all pretty pumped that he’d rounded out the day with such a great moment.

As I’m netting the fish, the other client that had spent the day with me laid down a couple more casts about 20 paces up the river. He hits a pocket and all of a sudden he’s on too. We realise the other net has been left at the car, so I run up to him with the first fish still in the net, jump in, and scoop up another cracking brown. They weighed in at over 7 pounds together. That was the end of a great day, but my guiding mate and I went back to the same spot very soon after. He caught a ripper that had a really deep yellow colouring to it. It’s spots were huge as well, the kind you see on those real small rainforest creek brownies, expect these were on a 3.5 pounder. All on hoppers too.

All the bigger fish we found that day came up and nosed the fly, then you’d see the whole back coming out of the water as they headed back down. Near the very end of the day it was getting dark and we were keen on a feed. I rang the Snow Goose in Adaminaby and asked what time the kitchen closed. They came back and said 8pm. We were approaching the buzzer. I think Jimmy had actually stopped fishing by then and had started to take a few photos. But it is so hard to pull yourself off the river in that golden light right on dusk, even for a Snow Goose pint. But I cast my big Woomfa grasshopper pattern into another back eddy, looking for one more. It was so dark I couldn't really see much, but I just made out the silhouette of an absolutely massive nose come up, and then roll straight back down on the fly. I could hear it as well. Not a splash but the slurp of broken water. As soon as I set the hook I thought, shit, this is a bloody good fish. Anyway it came to the net and Jimmy and I were able to round out an epic day.

And you go back to the pub ?

Hahaha yeh we managed to make it. Having a beer we were just sitting in silence savouring the moment.

That is the best kind of silence when you just sit there now you've nailed it.

Photo credit: Jimmy Barwick, SVFF

What about the camping, back country, hunting element that you match up with the fishing?

Well it depends on which way you approach both of them, what you’re hunting or how you are targeting the fish.

For me personally, hunting and fishing go hand in hand. I would say 80% of the time when I go fishing, I'm hunting those fish. And they are hopefully hunting my fly. I like to work a wooly bugger really quickly, smack it against the bank, bang! bang! bang! and get a fish to come out and chase it. That little adrenaline rush watching it race out after the fly is so good. This to me is the similarity with hunting.

I guess my style of hunting and fishing are one really. When you hunt deer, you sort of move slowly, and time slows down a bit for me. You need to think about where the deer are going to be, what the most likely spot for them to be hiding is. Like the trout. Then it is about being there and executing the cast.

How does the camping, and back country element play into things?

Camping is just a means to an end. For me it's not something that I do to camp, I do it to get to the places to do other things. I like poking around and looking for camp spots with my partner Maddy. It’s like hiking, I can walk all day, but if there isn't a thin blue line or an animal at the end of the trail, I’m not going down there.

I do like the Snowys though. Its a great part of the world and to camp out there is a pretty proper way to experience it.

Have you ever had any dicey times out there?

Nearly rolling the Land Cruiser off the road trying to outrun a bush fire in 2019. That was pretty hectic. We were coming back from the Gungarlin having got the message a fire was headed our way with some turning wind, and trying to get back out to the highway. It is pretty wild back country and the road wasn't in great nick.

What was the smoke like when it arrived, did it appear suddenly or creep in around you?

The smoke was just there out of nowhere. We blinked and then boom a massive wall off black smoke was there coming up over the hill at us. Nervy kind of stuff.

So we got the message to get out, and we were packing things up really quick. Out of nowhere, a massive wall of cloud and smoke just emerged up over this hill and started coming down the valley. It rolled in like a movie; it was pretty hectic. The black clouds and shadows cutting across the sun started to darken everything. She was getting pretty rude and that red haze was pretty terrifying.

So we just jumped in the truck and just hoofed it out, ended up coming in hot to one corner and nearly ended up over the gutter. It took us a couple of hours to get up out of there and hit the highway. We then pull into a farm and they tell us the wind has turned and we were never in danger!

Brendan thanks heaps mate. We really appreciate you sharing some cool little stories.

Pleasure mate.

Brendan Branch

Charley May

Angus Reynolds