I had never gone fishing before in my entire life and had never really had any desire to. Hard to believe since I spend almost half of the year in the Northwoods of Wisconsin with lakes and streams galore. But the hook and the bait and dealing with the fish and whatever else was a big no thank you for me.
My father, on the other hand, has been fly-fishing for over thirty years. He’s traveled all over the world to enjoy this love, and he is awesome at the fine art of casting and catching fish. For a long time, he’d been talking up a special kind of fish, the golden dorado, that he wanted to catch at least once in his lifetime. These beautiful fish are found in the fresh waters of South America, and the moment I heard that he would finally be traveling to Argentina to go on an expedition to try to catch one, everything inside me exclaimed, I want to go to Argentina! I wanna go!
So, when my father invited me to join him on this adventure of a lifetime, even though it was only one month before departure, I of course jumped at the chance. It did not matter to me that I had never gone fishing before in my entire life, hahahaha!
Well, truth be told, a very long time ago, I had at least learned how to move a fly rod and fly line—a technique called false casting—in a Jewel grocery store parking lot, thanks to the late George Van Wagner, owner of Saturday Morning, a beloved fly-fishing shop in Barrington, Illinois. So as I prepared my gear (read: wardrobe) for my Argentinean adventure, my father set me up with one of his 8 weight fly-fishing rods and an 8 weight reel. And then it was time for my second fly-fishing lesson in twenty plus years, with Mike from Ole Florida Fly Shop in Boca Raton, Florida. And after that lesson, I knew I needed another.
Spoiler alert: don’t call it a pole in front of a true and devout fly-fishing angler. It’s a rod. (I learned that one the hard way! LOL. Thanks, Kate, for the clarification.) And, as anyone who has even dipped their toes in the vast waters of fly-fishing knows, 10 and 2 o’clock are the standard guides for casting.
After some practice, I began to get a little more comfortable with false casting, which is the term for that beautiful movement of the fly line you might imagine when you think of fly-fishing. The beauty of the fly line in movement is the result of letting out your fly line in order to cast. The longer your line, the farther your cast, the better your chance to catch a fish. This is all the ideal. However, if your false casting isn’t on point with strong and abrupt 10 and 2 o’clock stops, not to mention good timing, then your line doesn’t let out in the way required to cast in a beautiful, smooth, long trajectory. Feeling the weight of line letting out and good timing are both required to make a good cast. My teacher Mike calls this painting the picture.
Like yoga, fly-fishing is a felt experience. Instruction is required, but truly getting it is felt. When practicing on dry land, my best casts were when I had my eyes closed. That way I could feel the weight of the line letting out and when to move the rod. The key for me was to forget about everything and feel the weight of the rod, the strong stops, the weight of the line as it let out and then trust in the timing of the movement, when to let the line fly and cast. It’s just like how the practices of yoga and meditation require instruction, but then one must trust into one’s senses and feel the right action.
So I continued to practice, and I even learned how to strip set or hook a fish by pulling the line in to keep the fish on the fly, and then bring in the fish. This was all done on dry land, so Mike was not only my teacher but also the fish! After the fourth lesson he told me that I didn’t need another lesson, I needed to get out on the water.
After those weeks of preparation, my father and I flew from Miami to Argentina, an eight-and-a-half-hour red-eye flight. We landed in Buenos Aires in the early hours of the day, took a nap, and then went on a little tour of that gorgeous city. Buenos Aires is known as the Paris of South America, and for good reason: it’s filled with gorgeous architecture that is centuries old and influenced by the architecture of France, England, and Spain. I was particularly blown away by the La Recoleta Cemetery, a rare and ornate cemetery for the rich and famous that’s filled with mausoleums, statues, and beautiful trees. I believe there’s only one other cemetery like it, and fittingly, it’s in Paris. After another nap, we ventured out to Ruffino, a restaurant in the same La Recoleta neighborhood with extraordinary ambiance, where we enjoyed an absolutely delicious meal. Argentina is especially well known for their beef and Malbec wine; the weather conditions and landscape provide the ideal environment for cultivating both.
Me and my dad at La Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires
Early the next morning I woke up panicked—my phone read 6:15 am! I was supposed to be in the lobby to meet the rest of our fly-fishing group at 6:15 am! Never has this ever happened to me before. Of course I would have an alarm mishap when the entire group was waiting for me. But Geri, our gracious group leader from The Driftless Angler in Viroqua, Wisconsin, was super sweet about it and let me know they had only been there for five minutes. And Kate, a seasoned angler, became an immediate friend as she talked me down from my panic and worry over keeping people waiting.
But we made it to the airport with time to spare. Once we boarded our charter flight to Itatí—which came complete with a box full of ham-and-cheese croissant sandwiches and coolers filled with whatever we wanted to drink—we were all so jazzed up for our adventure that we began sharing details of our lives with each other and enjoyed all of the warm fuzzies that happen when we are making new friends. After disembarking from the two-and-a-half-hour, eight-seat plane ride to Corrientes, we were met by our two wonderful guides, Nico and Carlos, who escorted us in their heavy-duty trucks to our first fly-fishing destination, The Itatí Lodge on The Upper Parana River. Yipppeeee!
When we arrived at The Itatí Lodge, we were greeted by all the people who make that place paradise: the chef, Orlando; the waiter and bartender, Brian; the fly-fishing guides; and the kitchen and housekeeping staff. They provided us with these magical local gin spritzer concoctions that refreshed and revitalized, which were then followed by lunch, siesta, and our first half day of fishing.
That first day on the water was brutal. The flys were h.e.a.v.y. My reel and line were heavier than the one I had practiced with—oops—not to mention it was my first time fly-fishing on water ever. It didn’t help that I was also worried about accidentally hooking our guide Nico! LOL! I can still hear him saying, Don’t worry, Alie, you won’t hook me! But before I knew it, the sun had set, and my father, Nico, and I were whirring back to the lodge on the small flat boat. The challenge of my first day of fishing was softened by delicious food and wine, wonderful people, and the sheer enjoyment of it all. Although I was looking forward to a good night’s sleep, I was so excited about being in golden dorado country and on this amazing adventure that my heart rate was up and I was restless throughout the night.
Day two began early: breakfast predawn at 5:30 am and then we were headed out to the Paraná River by 6:30 am. A different guide, Juan, took my father and I out this time. Nervous at my poor showing the previous day, I felt some apprehension, but Juan was very reassuring, not to mention, an excellent teacher! The first thing he had me do was to take off my shoes. Juan reassured me that with bare feet I would feel everything. With Juan’s coaching I received one lesson after another, and I can still hear him say, there are steps, encouraging me with the truth of fly-fishing. I began letting more line out with each false cast so that I could cast my line farther.
Although I kept trying, I had casts that didn’t go as far, and Juan kindly and honestly would say, You can do better. I believe in you, Alie. And then the very next cast would be loooooong, and we would both squeal with excitement. As I quickly stripped the line in, I’d hear him say, Now you are fishing, Alie. I felt happiness in my heart, and I was actually beginning to get this thing called fly-fishing. I would get a nibble on my fly and miss setting the fly in the mouth of the fish. Of course, I’d feel frustrated and Juan reminded me that there are steps. His instruction helped me to focus on feeling the line, concentrating, and being present. This was meditation in action.
Beyond all this, I found myself surrounded by the unusual beauty of the broad Paraná River that looked more like a huge lake than a long, sprawling river. There were gorgeous cranes roosting and flying elegantly overhead, howler monkeys looking for girlfriends with their unique sounding invitations, and even big caimans (a relative of the alligator) sprawling about.
It was a long day of fishing: five and a half hours in the morning and four hours in the afternoon. I savored my siestas and sleep time. My rest time was occupied by dreams of dorado, and I even woke myself up practice stripping on my pajama strings! By the end of the second day, I was tiiiiiiiired, but I was making progress as I learned and practiced. Other folks on the trip had caught some serious dorado!
After our time on the water, we had such fun together sharing our stories and continuing to get to know each other. The Itatí Lodge felt heavenly. The food was so delicious, and the service was next level. There was so much kindness and attention to all of the details. One of my very favorite details was the Argentinian wine—the rosé from the Malbec region was so light and refreshing, especially after the hard work of fly-fishing.
Day three came fast, and walking out to the boat, I genuinely began to feel worried I wasn’t going to catch a fish. However, I refocused and determined that my goal for this day would be to become more consistent with my casts. I climb into the boat with our guide Juan and another guest named Vic. This was the first day I wasn’t fishing with my father, the second day fishing with Juan, and my first day fishing with Vic. Juan brought us to a gorgeous spot on the river, with lots of cormorants perched overhead, where there was some fast moving water close to a little island with lots of down trees and wood in the water. Seasoned anglers call this structure. I let Vic take this water since it was one of those places where it’s best for just one person to fish at a time. And there is such a thing as fishing etiquette and being gracious and generous. Having a good time and having fun is all about good energy and welcome sharing. After several catches Vic was named the Dorado Whisperer.
Casting a fly line is not easy for a beginner like me, and it can get tiring. But thanks to my experience with yoga, I have learned to listen to my body. When I felt tired, I would take a rest. Luckily each boat had a cooler stocked with many options for refreshment so I enjoyed pouring myself a Coca-Cola from a large glass bottle and nibbling on some peanuts while sitting in the boat. This was also a good time to take in the beauty of the Great Paraná River, the many types of birds, and watching the Dorado Whisperer in action.
But now, I was ready. With an unexpected belch, I rose with my rod, and on the first cast, I got a bite, strip set it, and lifted the tip of my rod. The word excited does not even begin to express the feeling of having a fish on your fly. In fact, I was so excited that I stripped the line all the way to my leader. This is a not good form, so Juan came to my rescue again, coaching me to let some line out. I can still hear him telling me to keep tension and enjoy the fish. Feeling it, I was all tingling smiles. Along with his expert coaching, Juan even managed to get it all on video! I led the fish toward the boat with the tip of the pole, and Juan, now known as the Magic Man, swooped up my very first catch, a GOLDEN DORADO! YAYYYYYYYY ! ! ! ! I held this beautiful and shimmery golden fish and then gently released it back into the smooth, fresh river water.
My trip was now complete. I caught a fish, a golden dorado no less. Now I could relax and simply have fun! But then, I caught another one! All while Dorado Whisperer Vic was reeling ’em in left and right. We didn’t call him the Dorado Whisperer for nothin’, but Vic was more than just an awesome angler—he also generously shared my excitement. Vic was super psyched for me. Our boat was filled with celebratory vibes. And I shared softly, as to not scare the fishies, I now know why people love to fly-fish. I was having a b.l.a.s.t.
My first ever catch — a golden dorado!
Once we arrived on land for lunch, I was casually waiting in the lounge area until I saw Geri, our trusted guide approaching, and then I launched myself at her. GERI, I CAUGHT A GOLDEN DORADO! And we threw our arms around each other. As the group leader of this epic, once-in-a-lifetime adventure, Geri knew the whole story of my lack of previous fishing experience, and being the empathic, love bomb, fly-fishing Goddess that she is, she felt and reveled in my overflowing happiness and enthusiasm.
The afternoon was filled with more golden dorado for both Vic and myself! As I strip set another fish, I heard Juan say, Machine! Please keep the tension, Machine. (We were all getting our own unique nicknames by now.) That day we ventured all around. In the morning we fished in Paraguayan waters, and in the afternoon we saw more caimans perched on an island beach. Another highlight was watching Vic do the swing fly overlooking the Basilica of Our Lady of Itatí, or La Basílica de Nuestra Señora de Itatí, as the sun set. The color palette of pinks, purples, and oranges amazed me with their brilliantly alive changes. Then as Vic was busy being the Dorado Whisperer, Juan whispered to me, I’ve got a secret. Only moments later we cruised past the Basílica and began to approach an island. There was a beautiful and welcoming fire; a long table with tiki torches; two musicians playing Chamamé, the local Argentinian music; and food cooking over another fire, with a bar next to it. All I can say, really, is this was one of the best nights of my life. It was a total dream to be there together with the stars as our witness.
The Magic Man, our guide Juan, with Vic, the Dorado Whisper, and me, the Machine.
On our last day at The Itatí Lodge, we had a half day of fishing, and I had the pleasure of going with the exquisite Kate, aka Kate-a-rific, and Carlos, who was our third guide. Kate didn’t waste any time; she started reeling in the dorado right away and didn’t stop. Amazing. The thing that really struck me about Kate, along with being an exemplary angler, was her graciousness and generosity. Kate had a big one that nibbled on her fly but swam away. Instead of rushing a cast back at the fish that got away, Kate said to me, Alie, I left that one for you. Now you get it. This got me excited and had me feeling like I could catch that fish. And that morning I did indeed catch a beautiful dorado.
After we packed up there, we were ready for our next air charter to Jetu’u Lodge, on the marshlands off of the Paraná River. There were two planes, so do you know what that means? Four people per plane, and a landing in Goya on a grass runway—no joke! The owner of Jetu’u Lodge, Andy, met us there with a cooler and these big Argentinian beers. That was a refreshing reward after that adventuresome hour-and-a-half flight. Andy brought us to the lodge, and the hospitality of the staff there was unparalleled. Everyone was waiting to greet us! We chilled on the front deck with refreshing beverages, taking in the beauty of all the unusual birds nibbling on baked goods that the staff left out to attract them over. Gauchos, or Argentinian cowboys, rode by with their doggies. Coolness to the Infinite Power. Our dinner was preceded by entrancing Argentinian dancers and musicians, and that night we all went to sleep in our spacious rooms punctuated with two very large beds under super comfy comforters. Snuggly is the word.
Gauchos
Since we would now be fishing the marshlands, we couldn’t go out on the water before it got light; we needed full sight. So you know I took advantage of that extra hour of sleep! And boy, did I need it. That first day out on the boat with Andy the owner and my father was h.a.r.d. Can you say wind? Try casting into the wind as a beginner; it’s not easy for anyone, regardless of experience level, but I think I may have sprained my thumb with excess effort. But Andy was a pro, as were all of the guides, at finding what my dad likes to call the honey pot. My father was working a honey pot where there was some beautiful flowing water. Moving water and logs. At the beginning of our trip, I would hear my dad say, We love structure, and now I finally knew what that meant. Now when I see trees down in water, I think, I bet there’s some fish in there.
Andy hopped into the water and started pushing the boat to get my dad closer to the honey pot. My dad caught at least a few golden dorado that first day with Andy, and in Itatí he’d caught a bunch too! He had said he wanted to catch a golden dorado sometime in his life, and he caught way more than one! Celebrate good times, come on! We were getting toward the end of our day, and Andy brought me to this sweet little ravine-like area where the banks were higher, protecting against the wind. Guide genius in effect. Though I was getting nibbles there, I wasn’t strip setting any of the fish on the fly yet. Andy’s expert guidance was just to say, Again. So I kept casting, and I did catch a doradito, a little dorado, and we released it. (We released all the fish that we caught, though sometimes not before I had the chance to name them. I wish I had written down the names of all my fishy friends so they could be easily remembered.) I caught like six doraditos there with Andy, then it started to get close to dark. We started heading back to the lodge when the rain began. After dinner, I iced my hand. I gotta take care of myself.
Day two at Jetu’u, I got to fish with Nico again and with The Doctor, Jim, a retired veterinarian. I was excited to fish with Nico so I could show him my progress since that very first day in Itatí. We were super lucky that we had cloud cover for most of our days fishing. I melt in the hot sun and humidity, so when it started drizzling, I happily pulled out my rain gear, complete with rain pants! The Doctor and I were fishing in the waterways of the marshlands while cows grazed on the banks.
As I cast I saw some movement in the water and whispered to Nico, There’s one over there. So I cast to it. I hear Nico say Nice, and I got a bite, strip set it, and had a very strong, heavy fish on my fly. There was so much energy and excitement coursing through my veins as I stripped the fish in, tipping the rod up to keep the tension. It took a while to bring this fish in, and—surprise! It was a very rare catfish. This catfish was entirely different from the ones we have in the States. They look like direct descendants of dinosaurs with beautiful markings. This was a big deal. The University was doing research on these fish, so Nico pierced it with a number before releasing it. Whenever this fish is caught again, the angler can report to the University the number of the fish. Nico gave me the catfish number so I would remember this unusual catch. Nico also made sure to emphasize and illuminate what had just happened. He said, Alie, you saw the movement and cast to it and caught that fish. With Nico clearly stating that I had indeed done good fishing, it’s safe to say that I was glowing then. Almost right after that, I caught a wolf fish, which is a creepy lookin’ fish, but fun to catch. Wolf fish are a little scrappy and like action. In the afternoon, The Doctor got some time in his own water and reeled in a bunch of dorado. He was feelin’ hot, and we all had fun. Later on, losing light quickly, we went flying through the narrow marshland channels back to the lodge. Out of nowhere we saw a huge brown animal in midair right in front of our boat. I turned around to get a better look at it as another one flung itself toward us, narrowly missing my lap. Quite an unusual introduction to the capybara! That evening before dinner, the best entertainment continued with a local female cigar maker who rolled organic tobacco for us to try.
Catfish
Wolf fish
The last day of fishing, Geri put me with Vic and Tute (pronounced Tete). Within minutes Tute is known as The Terminator. He is serious, laser focused, and all about fishing. We go out to new places we haven’t fished before. Converging streams, little islands, moving water, structure, it’s all happening. I was casting like a machine; Juan the guide had given me the nickname Machine, so I knew I was making him proud! I set another fish in the convergence of the streams. This fish was strong! It’s not easy to strip this fish in, but I did as I was taught. I kept the tension on the fish and I enjoyed the fish, feeling both its strength and mine. It was a piranha! Wow! I kept my hands away from its teeth. I caught another golden dorado (they have teeth too!). I never really understood how exciting it is to share about one’s catches until I actually caught a fish! And all of these exotic species to boot.
The afternoon was interesting. We got to shallow waters headed toward an island. Vic was game to hop out of the boat and help push. He wasn’t going to let Tute struggle alone to push us in, and I saw that I could help as well. Unzipping the bottom half of my pants to turn them into shorts, I promptly hopped into the water. Asking Tute what to do, and expecting to help push the boat, he instead instructed me to go the island. After some serious Argentinian Guide shit, Vic and Tute got on land with my rod, and we started casting. I was casting the swing fly, which I hadn’t had any luck with when I tried in Itatí. I was patient, and Tute was standing right next to me, coaching me on my casts. He would say, You are waiting too long on your back cast. With Tute’s expert guidance, I kept stripping in fish, and he stayed with me until my very last cast of the trip when I brought in my twenty-fifth catch, another magical golden dorado.
Geri and her guides, Nico and Herman, were there with us too. We had such a blast together. And Geri was amazed at how well I was casting, which was the best compliment ever, coming from her! Geri is not only a wonderfully humble human, but also a female guide and women’s fly-fishing store co-owner. She is truly a powerful woman thriving and loving life while fishing with the best people in the most beautiful places. This is her miraculous gig, giving people the opportunity to fall in love with fly-fishing, if not for the first time like me, then as if it were the first time again for those with so much more experience.
I’ve traveled all over the world and have had unforgettable experiences in extraordinary places with awesome people whom I love. With that said, this was one of the very coolest experiences of my life, and I got to share it with my father!
Decades ago when considering traveling to Asia, my yoga teacher, Erich Schiffmann, said to me, If you really want to do something or go somewhere, DO IT! Even if you don’t know why, do it now and explain it later. I knew before I was even officially invited on this great Argentinian adventure that I really wanted to go. I couldn’t explain it then; it was an immediate feeling. Fly-fishing is not easy, but I learned so much about something that I had never ever done before. I was willing to learn over and over again. Rising to the occasion paid off, and I totally enjoyed myself while I had so much fun fishing in gorgeous Argentina and making wonderful new friends. There is so much more to share, and all of it has caused my heart to grow and expand and my energy to radiate with happiness and joy. All I know for sure is that Teamwork Makes the Dream Work.
