Like vampires, it’s been said. The giant sea trout of Tierra del Fuego are like vampires. During daylight hours they lie in a hibernative state. Then, as light wanes and the horizon blazes in austral sunset, they come alive. And once the beast has shed its torpor, beware.

I’m convinced the more carefully you plan a fishing trip or, in this case a film shoot, the closer you are to failure. This is particularly true when you plans involve other living things and have many moving parts such as fish, guides, flats boats, lodge management, travel arrangements, customs and, of course, the weather.

You might be married to an exiled south Florida fishing nut when, during football season:
1. On the first Sunday in recent memory you actually get to sleep late, your fishing nut suddenly bolts upright and exclaims with panic “Crap, I’ve gotta go to Hooters.” (The only place in town a Dolphin fan can cheer on his team in peace.)

2. The days the Fins are on regular TV are national holidays and not to be defiled with any kind of untoward, productive activity.

For an angler, the day never holds as much promise as when viewed from midstream at first light. When I stepped into the river the world was still shades of gray. But with the lightening sky, shapes flat and indistinct became bankside willows, yellow and pale green; peaks ochre and brown and slate; sand and gravel bars bleached-bone white and flecked with silver mica.