Hawaiian Wild Rainbow Trout

(Editors note: I met my good friend Matthew Kimball (@plumber_mattyk on instagram) through mineral collecting years ago. We've dug and prospected together all over CT and in NH, and had some great adventures. Matt fishes as well and a while back moved to Hawaii and has periodically been telling me about some of his fishing there, from mountain stream smallmouth bass to free diving and spear fishing. I've been hoping he'd do a guest post for the blog for a while, and, well... here it is.)

The cool mountain air of Kokee felt refreshingly crisp compared to the unbearable heat and humidity we'd been experiencing down at the coast for the past week. A dense layer of mist still lingered. As I signed in at the self-serve angler station covering the park's upper stream system, I noted with satisfaction that the log book's last entry was my own nearly a month ago. The bucket crowd seems plenty satisfied with the overgrown goldfish the state chucks into the reservoir each year. I really can't blame them. Navigating miles of poorly maintained 4wd roads followed by hiking some truly gnarly terrain definitely doesn't appeal to everyone. Of course, there are the adventurous few out there who need a good challenge.

Hawaiian Rainbow

A brief history:

Sugar plantation owners first introduced rainbow trout to the Hawaiian island of Kauai around 1920. While a tropical island would generally not be considered the most optimal trout habitat, the fish thrived in the cool higher altitude freestone streams of the remote Kokee region on the island's west side. Stocking occurred regularly until being abruptly discontinued in the early 90's due to concerns regarding the trout's impact on native damsel fly populations. These days stocking is limited to a single reservoir that receives rather high fishing pressure during the short 3 month season. Meanwhile, in a select few remote mountain streams, far removed from the hook of your average would-be angler, trout still swim in the cool, tea stained waters. Wild trout in one of the single most unique natural settings you'll ever encounter. An angler's dream to be sure.

Waimea Canyon, Grand Canyon of the Pacific

My primary focus was to explore the downstream section of a particular small stream. Completely new territory for me. Stream flow was down. Way down from my last visit. Signs of fish were scant, a stark contrast to the abundance of fingerlings and fry I was encountering in the stream's upper reaches during my last visit. Definitely doesn't help that trout season takes place smack dab in the middle of the island's dry season (love to know who's brilliant idea that was). I worked my way downstream in search of larger pools that could offer refuge during dry spells. Invasive ginger and blackberry bushes choked the banks in many places, making travel difficult. I pressed on deeper into the valley. About an hour was spent trying to negotiate a single waterfall that dropped a sheer 60 feet. Then another 80 footer.

surprisingly easier climbing back up than down

Having gained access into the lower valley, the terrain changed. Ginger and blackberry were almost absent. Huge boulders, some refrigerator sized, littered the valley floor. Steep slopes climbed hundreds of feet on either side. Definitely a flash flood zone in the wetter months. By this point the stream had been joined by a few tributaries and had much better flow. I spotted a fair size trout in one of the waterfall pools and made a sight cast with a size 10 woolly bugger. The result was instantaneous. After a short but frantic scramble from the ledge on which I was perched I had in hand a truly stunning little fish.

I continued downstream, catching a few more trout as I went, though nothing quite like the first of the day.

Finally, I reached a third falls. I managed to carefully pick my way halfway down before determining further progress to be impossible. A sheer drop of at least 100 feet, likely more, lay below. The valley below was tantalizingly close yet simultaneously unobtainable (Not without repelling gear, anyway). A double step pair of falls dropped hundreds of feet on the valley's opposite wall. Deep pools interrupted by long stretches of riffles enticingly scattered the valley floor. 

forbidden valley

After a few minutes to drink it all in, it was time to begin the slog back up the valley. The pools yielded up a few more of it's precious little living gems. Finally, I had to tear myself away. there was a bowl of warm chili back at the lodge with my name on it. Until next time, Kokee...

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