The mighty Limay is the birthplace of modern day fly fishing in Patagonia, and it’s renown as one of the last destinations for trophy trout. The trout themselves only arrived in Nahuel Huapi lake- the headwaters of the Limay – in 1904. A decade earlier, Andean explorer Dr. Francisco Pascacio Moreno returned from an expedition to the Limay region with dreams of filling the Patagonian waters with fish. With Argentina’s government on board, American John Wheelock Titcomb was left in charge. Shipments of hundreds of thousands of lake trout, brook trout, whitefish, and landlocked salmon eggs soon arrived with
Edgar Allen Tulian, travelling from North America and then Europe along a long journey that included refrigerated cargo ships, rail, and even horseback. Upon reaching the primitive Patagonian hatchery in Molina springs, at first the whitefish thrived, but introduction and wild reproduction in lake Nahuel Huapi failed. Based on this, rainbow and browns who thrived in the Nahuel Huapi and Limay environment were imported next, representing the official beginning of salmonids in Argentina. Over the next few decades, the Patagonian trout proliferated, naturalizing well throughout their new habitat and growing to record sizes.
By mid-century, fly fisherman from around the world began to tell stories of world record Patagonian trout. Four river mouths were on the tip of everyone’s tongue- the Chimehuin, Correntoso, Corcovado and of course the Limay. These ancient trophies still dorn the walls of classic fishing clubs and lodges that dot the banks of those beautiful rivers. Today, growing populations and development have put pressure on the fisheries and in many cases the giants are now hard to find. The Limay is different. Nobody is quite sure why – some say increasing numbers of crayfish and crabs (pancora) are filling up our trout, others say that the size of the river protects trout population by allowing them to grow large. I keep my theories to myself, but all that really matters is this mighty river maintains big populations of epic trout to write home about (or post on social media). But that doesn’t mean they are easy to catch…
Angler – Juan Pablo Martinez. With Bariloche and Cerro Catedral setting the scene, fishing the mouth of the Limay couldn’t be any better
The Limay is different. Nobody is quite sure why…
Marcos Hlace and Alvaro del Agua enjoy the catch. Trout season in the Limay used to end in April with a focus on browns, but now that the Limay season is extended into May anglers get the chance to sometimes find early runs of rainbow heading downriver to spawn. Photo by Federico Caracciolo.
Throughout my career, I’ve seen all sides and styles of this fishery. What I love most about the Limay is its versatility. I still remember cold mornings in April, floating the upper Limay in Don Pascacio (a wooden driftboat named after Dr. Moreno) rowed by it’s builder, Juan Carlos Morel, and casting #8 rod, homemade shooting heads, amnesia, 0.30mm short leader and a yellow size 2 matuka. Casting to the shore and fast stripping, while Juan Carlos held Pascacio, brought us some remarkable browns, incredible memories and extremely sore forearms.
November, early season, in upper Limay is vastly different. High waters bring lots of movement as rainbows return to Nahuel Huapi from spawning in the Limay while rainbows and browns both enter Limay to feed on crayfish and crabs. This period is great for wading the shores and secondary channels, looking for calm shallow waters with single handed or short spey rods, although anglers need to be careful to avoid disturbing spawning areas – a controversial topic best left for discussing between friends over a nice malbec. Nowadays, Pela’s Pool is another popular hangout. Young anglers spend full days under the bridge waiting for their turn to cast 14 foot #8 or #9 spey rods, scandi shooting heads and swinging skinny bucktail streamers with hopes of catching a fish of their dreams.
From classic Matona de Nava to modern Leonis Barbarous flies and chucking streamers to the shoreline or swinging flies with a scandinavian style, there’s a way for every angler to write their own Limay legend using their favourite approach. Regardless of what bites – with Cerro Cathedral as the backdrop and wide open Estepa in the foreground, condors soaring overhead, a scalding hot mate, and an asado waiting to be shared at night – the Patagonian experience is epic, but Limay in particular is legendary. – Marcos Hlace
Contributed By
Marcos Hlace
Marcos is a fly-fishing guide and photographer originally from Bariloche, Patagonia Argentina. With a background in Aquaculture, Marcos’ guiding career began in 2007 in Nahuel Huapi National Park, on the mighty Limay River which begins near Bariloche. He has since guided in many different places: across Patagonia for trout, Tierra del Fuego for sea run browns, in the jungles of the Brazilian Amazon for peacock bass, Arapaima, and Vampire fish and most recently Atlantic salmon in Iceland. His diverse experiences have given Marcos a spirit of adventure and adaptability which create his unique guiding and photography style and understanding of all that goes into capturing a good day of fishing. When he’s not on the river, you can find Marcos focusing his camera on wildlife, people or natural landscapes. He’s also a woodworker and builder of wooden boats.
