We caught up with Caz fresh off a trip to the legendary Green Baker River in Chile—a stretch of wild blue that’s as remote as it is rewarding. For those of us who live and breathe big water and bigger trout, this one’s been on the bucket list for a while. Caz made the trek, fished hard, and came back with stories of streamer eats, ant hatches gone nuclear, and brown trout built like linebackers. This isn’t your backyard creek—it’s full-send Patagonia, where glacial flows meet high stakes.

Caz, your recent trip to Chile took you to the Green Baker River. What was it about this river that made it a top destination for targeting large brown trout?

The Rio Baker River is one of the most unique rivers I’ve ever fished—not just for the incredible fishing, but for the breathtaking scenery. Seeing something as stunning as the Baker in person was unforgettable. The water was unreal—it looked like a river of Blue Gatorade. This river also happens to be the largest in Chile by volume, so you can imagine the kind of monster brown trout that lurk in its depths.

During your time on the Green Baker River, what was the most challenging aspect of fishing for these big browns, and how did you adapt your approach to succeed?

At this river, my go-to technique was usually streamer fishing, but on hot, sunny days, you can absolutely throw some big, fat Albert dry flies along the shoreline and get into some topwater action.

A lot of the time, while streamer fishing on the Rio Baker, we’d match our flies to whatever the fish were keyed in on that day. Some days, they wouldn’t touch anything but smaller patterns—Woolly Buggers in various colors, small Dungeons, or simple leech patterns.
One really helpful tip is to take a moment to inspect the slower water along the shoreline. Look for small baitfish cruising the edges—what they're doing and what they look like. During that time of year, we often noticed they were solid black, which gave us a huge clue on what to tie on.
Other days, it was all about going big. We’d throw full-sized Sex Dungeons and even run triple-articulated streamers—some stretching up to eight inches or more. When they’re in the mood, big browns don’t hesitate to eat big.
And when the sun is out? Go shiny. On those bright, clear days—especially after we’ve had our fun with big dries—we’d reach for the shiniest streamer in the box. Something flashy and bold can call fish up from deep water, pulling aggressive strikes even when the bite is slow.

One of my most memorable catches in Chile happened during the ant hatch—an event that only occurs a few times a year, but when it does, it’s pure magic. Seeing hundreds of thousands of winged ants covering the water brought every fish in the river to the surface. It’s said that the days following the hatch are often slow because the fish are so stuffed, and it’s true—we watched brown trout swim past hundreds of dead ants, completely ignoring them, searching for anything else. They won’t touch a dead one the next day.

To the story: I was fishing with Green Baker Lodge guide Joaquin Rivas (@joarivass). We were taking turns on the oars, switching after every fish. It was my turn to fish, and I had just released a small 18-inch rainbow. I was getting ready to take my turn rowing when we suddenly spotted a giant 25–26 inch brown cruising on the surface, heading right toward us.
Without hesitation, Joaquin jumped back on the oars and started rowing us backward. “Cast!” he said. I grabbed my rod, made one cast with a size 18 ant, gave it a single twitch, and with zero hesitation, that massive brown turned and slowly rose to sip the fly. I set the hook, and the fight was on.
It took nearly 15 minutes to land him (they do not give up), but eventually, he gave in. We netted a beautiful, dark, kyped-up male—a true Chilean giant. Definitely a fish I’ll never forget.

One thing I quickly noticed about fishing in Chile is how much harder the fish fight compared to trout in the States. The constant flow of fresh, cold glacial water—365 days a year—combined with an abundance of food, allows these fish to grow faster and stronger. There’s no doubt they have an unmatched level of energy and power. Every fish felt wild, fresh, and explosive. They didn’t just hit hard—they stayed hooked in a noticeably longer fight than what I’m used to back home. It was like every trout had something to prove.

You’ve mentioned streamer fishing as a key technique in targeting large trout. What are your five best tips for throwing streamers on big waters like the Green Baker River?

Let Your Fly Sink Deep

When fishing big, deep water with streamers, getting your fly down is key. On the Baker, we used triple-density sinking lines and heavy streamers to reach those deeper strike zones. A streamer becomes far more tempting to a trout when it's stripped through the water at or near eye level, not way above their heads.

Mending Matters

If you’re fishing deep water, proper mending isn’t optional—it’s essential. On powerful rivers like the Baker, the current is strong enough to drag your fly up before it even has a chance to sink. If you don’t mend your fly line upstream, your streamer will ride too high and miss the zone where big browns like to sit and wait.

Watch the Barometric Pressure

A sudden shift in barometric pressure can shut the river down. On large rivers like this one, those pressure changes can push trout into lethargic states, often causing them to drop into deeper, colder pockets. In Patagonia, it’s common to have days of wild weather, and when that happens, you might not see a single brown trout for days. But once the pressure stabilizes, it’s like someone flips a switch—trout suddenly push into the shallows and feed aggressively. That’s why tracking pressure trends is key to unlocking those productive windows.

Don’t Change the Fly—Change the Retrieve

Some days, no matter what you throw, the fish just won’t commit. But if you’ve got a streamer that’s moving fish—meaning they’re following, flashing, or inspecting it—don’t switch flies right away. Instead, try changing your retrieval pattern. Mix in long pauses, erratic strips, or faster bursts. Often, it’s not the fly that’s the problem—it’s the way it's moving. Big browns are picky. Sometimes, all you can do is keep showing up and keep trying.

Big Streamers = Big Fish

As the manager of Green Baker Lodge, Rafael once told me: “When you're fishing these waters, you're pulling your streamer past multiple fish in a single retrieve.” Big browns won’t always react first. They’ll often sit back in their comfort zone, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, while nearby rainbows will dart out instantly. That’s where giant articulated streamers shine. Their sheer size and movement can intimidate rainbows, clearing the way for a brown to come in with authority. Those monster streamers don’t just look cool—they give the dominant fish the space and confidence to attack.