So you continue to Te Anau, another 45 minutes down the road, secure in the belief that you are heading into what will certainly be a serious angling experience. Well, in terms of the location anyway. The jury is still out on the definition of a hydrology study.
A gaggle of utes connected to trailer boats at the campground in the middle of the town is an encouraging sign. And the pre-study briefing at the big hotel is more promising. Teams are assigned to boats and a table covered with prizes suggest fishing is an important part of the study. The prizes are all caps, rods and reels. "As the star guest, we will pick you up every half hour and put you on different boats - they all want to know how to catch fish," the MC suggests. Hopefully, the trout that inhabit Lake Te Anau have similar tastes to those swimming around in Lake Tarawera or Taupo. Or the hopeful participants might be a little disappointed at the advice coming their way.
Some probing questions are aimed at the skipper of the first boat as it skims across the lake, which has to be one of the most picturesque in the country. The mountains that signal the start of Fiordland are reflected in the still water and the bush that crowds the shore promises a glimpse of deer. A helicopter winging high overhead with an animal hanging on a long strop confirms this is the heartland of the venison recovery business. Yes, the trout take the same lures. In fact, a black-and-gold toby is one of the most consistent. And he gets most strikes on a harling line made from one colour of lead-core line spliced to a long floating line.
Five colours of lead also get hit, so the trout are all in the top 10m, which is not surprising when the water temperature stays a constant 8C. Like other snow-fed or alpine lakes, the environment is basically sterile below the influence of sunlight, which is the key to weed and insect life, which in turn support the small forage fish like bullies. But these lakes are far less fertile than North Island lakes so the fish won't grow as quickly. Sure enough, the first strike is a little brown trout of about a kilo, long and slim; testament to the meagre dining available.
Ray comes alongside and we move to the next boat. These are novices, eager for information, so the tips are well received. "That trace is too short. The water is so clear that the trout can see your heavy line. Speed is a bit fast. The cobras and tobies should wobble from side to side, not revolve like a propeller."
It sounds impressive. And, later that night back at the weigh-in, they are smiling as they proudly show off their two little trout.
Some of the boats didn't catch a fish. Some boated five, and the winning trout was caught by a happy 10-year-old who wound it in after his dad told him to grab the rod when it bent. He took home an expensive rod and reel, which really earned a smile.
At a kilo-and-a-half, the brown trout wouldn't have earned a second glance in Rotorua. But then you don't go to Te Anau for the quality of the fishing. You go to study hydrology.