By PETER KAMINSKY / The New York Times
We paused at the mouth of the Irigoyen River where it empties into the steel blue waters of the southernmost Atlantic, or Mar Austral, about 700 miles (as the albatross flies) from Antarctica. Across the river, two gauchos on horseback and a pack of dogs attempted to cut out a pair of bulls from a herd of wild cattle. Men, dogs, horses and cattle crashed down the bank, crossing the river about a hundred yards from us.
They thundered across the pasture and charged up a dune at the ocean’s edge. The gauchos worked their lariats in wide loops that caught the late afternoon sun as they tried to lasso the fierce bulls. And then, like the roar of a passing freight train that trails off in the distance, the melee disappeared and we returned to fishing.
Fishing the Irigoyen is a different ballgame from the much larger, and more famous, Rio Grande, where I caught some very big sea trout on earlier trips to Tierra. The Irigoyen has high banks and large stands of native lenga trees (they look like wind-bent scrub oaks), which serve as a windbreak; you are, for the most part, spared the polar gales that scour the steppes through which the Rio Grande flows. The Irigoyen is also a smaller river, which means that there is no need for ungainly double-handed spey rods and 100-foot casts. >>> Go to Full Story >>>