“You did bring all of your rain gear, right?” This cheery greeting definitively identified the speaker as one of the as-yet unintroduced members of our fishing collective. “Always be prepared,” I responded with a smile, “Nice to meet you guys.” We were on the ground in Chile. Anticipation was high of the great things to come--casting large flies to trophy-sized trout, stalking cruising fish in small creeks, and discovering the massive array of waters amongst the rugged beauty of Patagonia. I had just made my way through immigration and customs at Arturo Benitez International Airport in Santiago and rendezvoused with some of the group of Montana Angler guests on my hosted trip to Magic Waters Patagonia Lodge. First impressions go a long way, and it was obvious we were in for a great week...even if the forecast called for plenty of rain and even some snow.
A fly fishing trip to Patagonia is something most anglers dream about...but not all are lucky enough to make it a reality. This was my first trip to fly fish for trout in the southern hemisphere. Having been a fly fishing guide in Montana for decades, dreams of chasing trout in the beauty and unspoiled landscapes of Patagonia constantly danced in my head during our long winters. Year-after-year thoughts of leaving Montana and its snowpiles grew stronger with each shovel full of snow I tossed from my driveway. This was the year my fly fishing dreams came true as I hosted a few fishing friends along with some new Montana Angler guests at Magic Waters Lodge.
Welcome to Patagonia: Arriving at Magic Waters
Nearly all anglers headed to Chilean Patagonia fly on a domestic flight from Santiago. There are several flights daily to access Magic Waters Lodge and they all land at the small, regional airport at Balmaceda. Balmaceda is home to around 500 people and sits where the mountains of Patagonia begin to meet the open plains of the Argentine pampas. Despite the small nature of the Balmaceda airport, it is well-organized and efficient. We had our bags quickly and were in the private taxi van with all of our crew in a short time. The airport is a little over an hour drive from Magic Waters Lodge, but the drive went by in no time as the snowcapped peaks and vistas kept us well entertained. This drive is as scenic as they come--imagine the best of Montana's Madison and Paradise Valleys married together but filled with more spring creeks and lagunas. The nearest town is Coyhaique and it is the hub of activity for this region. It is a lot like Bozeman, Montana with mountain ranges in every direction and trout waters dissecting each mountain drainage.
We arrived at Magic Waters Lodge on a gray, rainy day. After leaving Balmaceda on a well-maintained paved road and eventually winding down a small dirt road to the lodge, arrival to the lodge is a bit like passing through a portal. Turning under the gate of the lodge with it’s clean architecture, welcoming staff and idyllic location is affirmation of choosing the ideal destination trip. We were introduced to our hosts and our surroundings, briefed on the schedule for the week, and almost immediately offered food, drink, and peace. Some chose to grab a quick nap, while others moved swiftly to the wood-fired hot tub overlooking the lake with a backdrop of green mountains and wispy fog drifting through the valley. A few rigged up and cast to cruising trout on the lake in front of the lodge. Then came the empanadas again. And a pre-dinner cocktail to ensure that there was no shortage of spirited conversation around the table. A person could really get used to this kind of living.
Day One: From Rain, Comes Rainbows (and Maybe a Salmon or Two)
We woke the first morning to fresh coffee, a breakfast fit for kings and queens with eggs to order, fresh fruit, breads, and sweet rolls. After our travels, the breakfast alone was fantastic. But...alas...we had to go fishing. However first morning of fishing was met with some trepidation by anglers and guides alike. It had rained hard all night and the usual rivers were high and off color. Oh, and the wind was blowing hard. My metric conversions aren’t very accurate, but I’d guess it was an airspeed somewhere between “Holy crap!” And “Should we go back to the lodge?” Time to pivot. While a few guides made sheltered lakes their top choice, our guide Jose offered up a river option that he believed would be clear--or at least clear enough to fish--and hold some nice fish. But, he cautioned, it was a longer drive. As a Montana fly fishing guide I’m used to plenty of windshield time to access the best fishing options on a given day. Plus, more drive time means more seeing the country, right? I’d never been to Chile before and wanted to take in all that the Patagonian region had to offer, so my fishing partner and I enthusiastically agreed. Let’s Go!
By the time we parked the truck and had our waders on, the sun was fairly high in the sky, the air had warmed, and the breeze was manageable. And as soon as we got to the edge of the river it appeared that our guide had made a good choice. A fish rolled--not rose--about 40 feet out in the channel and Jose said “That’s a King Salmon - they’ve been in the river since November or so. The trout will be feeding on their eggs.” My five weight Sage shuddered slightly with fear, then I began rolling casts to the rainbows and browns that were abundant and had obviously been enjoying the presence of these ocean-going relatives for the past few months. The trout were strong, aggressive and colored beautifully.
What more could an angler ask for on the first day? Maybe a 40 pound King salmon?
I hadn’t really considered that option until I lifted the rod tip and came tight to what felt like a small car on the bottom of the channel. Then that small car started driving away. “Just break it off, you’re not going to land it,” instructed Jose. Challenge accepted. I told him I didn’t fly to the other side of the world to break fish off, so I’d give it my best shot. Twenty minutes of back and forth had me in and out of my backing half a dozen times and once I even had the butt end of the leader within sight. Alas, channeling my inner Santiago provided me the same outcome as Hemingway’s Old Man had with his Marlin, minus the sharks. A grip and grin of my big King landed on a trout rod was not to be. I had one more King hooked up later in the afternoon and that struggle ended similarly. The twenty or thirty browns and rainbows that came to hand kept me more than entertained the rest of the day and when we retreated to the truck for our journey home, it was with a tired casting arm and a smile on my face.
Day Two: Stalking Spring Creek Trout
We awoke to misty cloud cover on the surrounding mountains. The cloud cover made for one of those classic gray, drizzly mornings perfect for sleeping in and taking it slow...which most guests did. Coming down from the rush of adrenaline after the first day of fishing and the excitement of being in Patagonia now shifted to cruise control for most of us. The pace of things on the second morning was much more relaxed. We enjoyed our coffee while watching fish rise on the laguna and relived some of the fish stories from day one. However, our relaxing morning didn't last too long as we watched the guides in the distance getting ready for the day--loading up coolers, getting boats ready, and organizing fly boxes and kit bags.
With a good bout of heavy rains overnight, the quest for clean water dominated the breakfast conversation. This time the search had us traveling with our guide to a small spring creek that yielded a handful of modest browns that were willing to enthusiastically inhale a well-presented dry fly. The most adventurous part of the day was traversing the edges of the creek that in many places seemed to be bottomless mud holes capable of swallowing an angler whole. More than once my step - though placed with intention - resulted in one of my legs disappearing below the surface, only to be seen again thanks to some creative twisting and pulling with the help of my fellow anglers. After lunch we moved to a nice small stream that thankfully had firm, rocky approaches and a freestone streambed. With clear water warmed by a sunnier day, trout smacked our terrestrial patterns in the riffles and grabbed beadhead droppers with comforting regularity until it was time to head back to the lodge for an empanda and wine reload.
Day Three: Simpson River Streamer Hunt
With no rain overnight, but the mountains still capped with clouds, we knew all of the options to fish at Magic Waters Lodge were on the table. Breakfast was the usual goodness with eggs to order and a variety of fruit and breads. We were fueled for the day and ready to discuss with our guide the best options. The forecast was calling for clouds in the morning and partly sunny skies in the afternoon--a guide called it a perfect recipe for streamers through lunch and then small dries in the afternoon. So we did just that--we hit the Simpson River in the morning and then a tiny creek once the sun came out.
We explored a variety of side channels of the Simpson River in the morning - finding nice browns that struck our streamers hard and danced beautifully in the currents. The fiesta continued until snowmelt and some construction equipment working in the river upstream of us provided a muddy color change and our good fortune evaporated. An afternoon of small stream adventure gave us an excuse to throw lighter rods and smaller dries to agreeable fish. In the first little rock garden section of stream, I lost count of the fish that slashed at my presentations. Maybe eight or ten to hand and probably two to three times that many eats put a smile on my face. They were small and fiesty, and I had to walk a ways in between productive areas, but when they struck they struck with intensity and when it was all said and done, we all walked back to the truck with smiles, an appetite, and wonderful memories of this little waterway. My friend remarked, "This is my favorite kind of fishing and I could spend every day on this stream. Beautiful, fishy, and fun!"
Day Four: Solitude, Scenery, and Some Pretty Big Trout
On Wednesday we awoke to a covering of snow on all the high peaks around us. To say it was post-card magical is an understatement. Magic Waters Lodge sits near Coyhaique - the capital city of both the Coyhaique Province and the Aysén Region of Chile. At an elevation of just shy of 1,000 feet the region seems pastoral. Surrounding Andean peaks soar to over 13,000 feet. It was evident the guides were excited for this crisp, cool weather. They moved a little quicker to ready their gear for the day and as many of the guests enjoyed coffee and the majestic views, many of the guides were packed and ready, yet patiently waiting on the guests who were soaking it all in before heading out fishing for the day.
It was in the shadows of these snow-capped ridges that we would venture out on a glacial blue lake and throw streamers and dry flies to large browns. And when we got to the lake we were the only ones there, or at least any part of it that we could see or hear. Surrounded by waterfalls as the day warmed and overnight snows melted it was almost hard to concentrate on the fishing as the sightseeing drew one’s attention up and away from the task at hand. Stopping for lunch on a gravelly shore where a tributary entered the lake, an angler finally has time to sit, gaze, and take it all in. More peaks than could be climbed, biked, skied, or photographed in a lifetime. And once focus returns to the water’s surface, more fish than could be fished to with a month’s worth of casts. Our guide warned us that the fish might be rising subtly, on account of the cold water at this late point in the season. When the 18” brown cartwheeled out of the water to inhale the black foam beetle pattern drifting over the top of a submerged log, he admitted that that particular take didn’t seem very subtle. Additional eats with consistent energy and enthusiasm followed all afternoon and we once again headed back to the lodge...and the hot tub, and the empanadas, and the cocktails...tired and smiling.
Day Five: Swinging for the Fence--Big Brown Town
Thursday was time for a new adventure, the plan for which was revealed to me just after breakfast. “You’re going solo today with Jaime. Long drive, big lake, and big fish. Just not very many, but big enough that you won’t care.” I was happy to jump in with Jaime and begin the odyssey. We drove a couple of hours, trailering a large cataraft with an outboard on the back. Through familiar towns, then through new towns, then into a National Park, then to a town on the shore of a large laguna. This was BIG water and breaking it down into fishable terms was the responsibility of my guide. I was just there to do as he instructed. Or at least try.
After a couple of hours of throwing my favorite seven weight streamer rod with a full sinking line, my arm was shot, my enthusiasm slightly diminished, and my appetite well-developed. “How about lunch and we take a short break?” I suggested. Grudgingly, Jaime steered the boat to a small sandy cove sheltered from the wind but bathed in warm sun. Soup, salad and a sandwich later we were both walking the rocks around the cove, throwing big streamers and letting them sink out of sight before pulling them back to us. No dry flies today - this was all about tossing big meat.
In true guide fashion, Jaime let out a happy shout from his perch on a rock about 100 feet from where I was casting. His rod was bent double and he wasn’t snagged on a rock. I hustled over and grabbed the net that lay at his feet. A few minutes of perfectly positioning myself on a low, flat surface at the water’s edge paid off when his fish came to the net. I could see in his eyes that this was a great catch and I was happy that he had proven the concept - not many fish but big enough that you don’t care. My arm was still beat up from the morning’s extensive casting practice, so I wasn’t sure I could have landed that one, anyway. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. When we took to the boat again I fished an hour or so then offered to take the oars.
We were drifting with the breeze pushing us along a rock wall in the afternoon sun and pulling oars was a nice break from casting. Different muscle groups, sitting down after a lot of standing and balancing, etc. No sooner had I set Jaime in the front of the boat to fish than he came tight again. Again, not a snag. Within a few minutes another stunning brown came to the net - larger and more colored up than the first. At least this time I was able to claim about 12% credit for the fish. After all, I was rowing and I netted it. Happy to know that my guide skills transfer decently to the Southern Hemisphere. Two lifetime fish in the span of a couple hours, an incredible setting and good companionship for the day meant that I didn’t need to have those fish on my rod for it to be a memorable experience. Next time, though, I’m not sure I’ll give up the bow so readily, but there's just something about being a Montana fly fishing guide that makes me want to row as much I want to fish!
Day Six: Streamer Fishing Bonanza on a Small River
Our final day fishing in Chilean Patagonia found me back to fishing with a partner to round out the week. We found ourselves in a whitewater raft putting in at a nondescript little gravel ramp between trees on the backside of a private property. It was sunny, calm, and warming up quickly as we floated off. Within minutes I had three or four big fish flash at my streamer and once I got my strip timing down, those flashes quickly turned into connections. Fortunately I was able to get by with a sink tip line, rather than a full sinking so my longevity with the seven weight held great promise. By the time we pulled up for lunch I had stopped counting the trout that made it to the net. Twenty? Twenty-five? Maybe thirty? It was non-stop action and if one were to have counted “follows” as well as hook-ups (as any good streamer angler does), I’d imagine that well north of fifty nice fish had crossed my path. Meanwhile, my fishing companion in the bow had been equally blessed with fish responding to his dry/dropper combination.
As the afternoon wore on we started to see mayflies emerging and fish feeding in the surface film. I’ve never been one to waste a good hatch, so I said “Adios” to the streamer rod and pulled out the five weight. No Kings to worry about today, but with a Chubby up top and a small beadhead on the dropper I was able to pick up where I had left off with the streamer...with far less effort and exertion. Catching 16 - 18 inch browns and rainbows like this was downright gentlemanly!
That final evening back at the lodge we enjoyed a table full of stories, shared pictures, and made plans for the next visit. Everyone who took the horseback trip option raved about not only the scenery and the fishing, but also the lunch. A true backcountry asada with wine to match the meal. So. Much. Good. Food. As the local band played, accompanied by a crackling fire and some after dinner drinks. I think we all knew that this wouldn’t be our last visit to Magic Waters Lodge.
Next time, though, we might need to add in a week at the Patagonia Baker Lodge just for the sake of comparison.
Exploring Chile: Santiago, Valaparsio, and Local Wineries
After flying back to Santiago on Saturday, by way of Puerto Montt--another incredible-looking town that warrants further discovery on a future visit--my fishing buddy and I settled back in at the Castillo Rojo hotel for a couple of nights. We wanted to explore Santiago a bit before picking up a rental car on Monday morning to further see the country. Restaurants, museums, art installations, outdoor markets and the buzz of a big city all held our attention over the next two days. Then a trip to Valpariso allowed us to see the Chilean coast - only a short drive from Santiago. Valapariso did not disappoint with maritime culture, interesting history, and architecture, more empanadas (can you really ever have enough?), some of the best helado (the Chilean version of gelato) that I’ve ever had, plus another few versions of the Pisco Sour. It’s a good thing we walked everywhere in the city for those days. Aside from not really wanting to drive the narrow streets and navigate amongst slightly manic drivers, walking a lot was the only way I could justify the caloric consumption. But justify it all I did. Happily.
Since our departure wasn’t until evening on our final day in Chile, we made time to visit a winery just south of Santiago and not really very far from the airport. The grounds of Vina Santa Rita included a wonderful wine-tasting venue and cafe and a beautiful anthropological museum that was open free to the public and housed a nicely-presented collection showcasing the indigenous Mapuche peoples. Not just worth a casual visit, but worthy of a full day and then some. Wine tasting, winery tours (in English and Spanish), cultural education, dining, and an on-property hotel means that on the next trip to Santiago I’ll be planning an overnight here to further expand my mind, and likely, my waistline.
A long flight home to Montana by way of Atlanta meant I had plenty of time to reflect. A trip that had started with suspect weather and an unknown group of fellow anglers turned into a cultural immersion with beautiful fish, a stunning lodge experience, wonderful travel companions, and a compulsion to return. One of my seat mates for the long flight to Atlanta shared his stories of bicycle touring around Chile and how, on the trip he had just completed days earlier, he spent five weeks traveling by bike yet only stayed one night in a hotel. Camping and relying on the kindness and generosity of new friends (previously strangers) had allowed him an even deeper dive into all that makes Chile special. He had ridden many of the roads that we drove to get to our rivers (including sections of the Carretera Astral), and had traversed much of the Patagonian region that I had just now started to learn. Great. Now I have to come back with fly rods AND a bike.
Additional Arrival and Santiago Overnight Information
Many of our anglers that head to Chilean Patagonia spend their first night at a boutique hotel in Santiago. For many anglers this allows for a nice acclimation after the overnight international flight. Most of the group stayed at a boutique hotel in Santiago the day before our fishing adventure began. Montana Angler can book this hotel as they have guests stay their often. On this trip and with this group, upon our arrival our conversations centered around comparing hometowns, waters fished, experience levels and ambitions. In short order we found that a wide variety of backgrounds had come together for this week and expectations across the board were somewhat tempered by the prospect of cool fall weather and some weariness from overnight international flights. By the time dinner rolled around (early by Santiago standards - a 7:30 reservation) most of the group had met in the lobby and we were on a first name basis with our new friends. This was the first night of what would be many wonderful meals highlighting Chilean food. Seafood, beef, empanadas, and pisco sours provided us all the fortification that we needed for a good night’s sleep after international travel.
The next morning our group made it through the Santiago Airport--domestic departures are a separate terminal and the pace felt relaxed and unhurried. One member of our party had been living in Mexico for the past year for work and he quickly became our reluctant go-to for the rare conversational challenge that popped up. Once the big bags (waders, boots, rain gear, some rods, and some extra layers) had been checked we went to the Duty Free store to add some casting oil and loudmouth juice to our carry on luggage. Not that it was needed - as it turned out we had plenty of fishing talent and minimal social inhibitions already well ingrained with our team for the week.
On many of our Montana Angler hosted trips when we suggest the layover day in Santiago, our preferred hotel is Castillo Rojo. For this trip we enjoyed the beautiful neighborhood of Bella Vista; an easy 20 minute cab ride from the international airport. Nearby the hotel is the San Cristobal hill and the impressive architecture of the Capilla La Maternidad de Maria Catholic Church. Additionally, the iconic Virgin of the Immaculate Conception statue is a sight worth seeing as well.
