Rio Ewan

We got up early today and headed back towards the town of Tolhuin, this time destined for the fly shop to buy our 'conservation stamp' for access to the Rio Ewan. Since we couldn't raise anymore sea-runners on the Irigoyen, we decided to try the Ewan, which was known for its relatively large numbers of browns, without the steep prices demanded by the Rio Grande. It still required a 100 peso stamp to get on the water, but we figured for one day, it would be worth a shot. The only bad part was that it required a 6 mile hike to get out to where the river hit the ocean and the fresh fish were coming in.
Eager to see what we could find we buzzed through the fly shop and with stamp in hand made a bee-line for the river. We strapped on our packs, threw in our head lamps, and set off for the mouth of the river at the ocean, with the idea that we’d stay out until dark (11:00 here).
The hike itself was monotonous and long, with only the occasional entertainment from herds of guanacos approaching us to see what we were. As usual, the wind was fiercely whipping through the valley. As we approached the mouth, the river changed considerably, widening out and sporting noticeably taller banks. You could tell that the tide dramatically influenced the flows here. We rigged up and headed out into the boca, still fresh with excitement.
After about five casts we both noticed that our fly line wasn’t drifting downstream, but actually upstream behind us. Every cast required cleaning the seaweed off of our flies. Crap, the tide must be coming in. Sure enough, within ten minutes the water was quickly rising, and the river was turning into a muddy mess as the reverse current churned up the bottom.
We soon realized that we had crossed the river to get to the boca, and now our way across was much deeper. Thoughts of getting stuck in the thick mud while the tide rose over our heads immediately came to mind, so we bailed on the idea of trying to cross there, and hiked quite a ways upriver before attempting another crossing. We eventually found a place that was still shallow enough to safely make it across and we were quickly back fishing. We hiked upriver some more until we were out of the tidal zone and slowly fished our way upstream for the rest of the day.
With the rising tide we figured some fresh fish might be entering the river, so our hopes were still high, but after hundreds of casts and many hours, the only fish we saw was a small one that I had on for about five seconds and then was gone.
We fished until the moon came up, and then made the long hike back to the van, feeling defeated. Apparently paying for a ‘conservation’ stamp doesn’t increase your chances at catching these elusive fish! Maybe we’ll spring for a guide as well next time…