Draining 2.9 million square miles of mainly dense tropical jungle spread across 9 South American countries, and providing home to a staggering 3000 species of fish (15% of all fish species on earth), the Amazon region must arguably be the biggest angling challenge on the planet. For freshwater enthusiasts it has to be the ultimate destination. But be under no illusion here, this is not freshwater fishing as UK anglers know it. So dense is the deep jungle that travel is only possible by boat. Tactically too it is more akin to sea fishing than anything UK freshwater anglers will recognise. Amazingly where we fished on the Tambopata River on the eastern side of the Peruvian Andes, stingrays featured in the catch despite the fact that we were probably 4000 miles from the sea as the fish swims.

To get some idea of what fish and techniques to expect I turned to the Internet. Browsing through the fishing photo galleries, my attention was instantly grabbed by a fish called a Payara. Looking at the pictures of this incredible fish, it isn't difficult to see why. This is the scariest fish I have ever seen and one I instantly wanted to see in the flesh. So much so that I put it right at the top of my most wanted list. I just had to have one at any cost, and if I caught nothing else while devoting the necessary time to getting one, I would still be happy. These demon like fish are seen as the premier fighting fish of the Amazon region. But as I was to find out, there are harder fighters over there as well as other fish of an equally scary disposition.

You can't just book a flight and make your way over to Peru or Brazil for a trip like this. You have to have help on the ground in organising internal transportation, accommodation, reserve entry permits and the rest, and would be foolish to even consider heading off into the jungle without a guide. Then there are all the necessary injections, tablets and powerful insect repellents to sort out. Once I had drawn up a rough itinerary of what I hoped to do, I handed the project over to Lima based Marcel Gondonneau Frank who operates Sport Fishing Peru. Besides the Tambopata River, Marcel also offers deep jungle fishing trips for peacock bass, Andean trout fishing, surf fishing for huge flounders and bass, plus a number of boat based trips in the north of the country and Costa Rica.

The flight to Lima via the Dutch Antilles was a long one, followed by two shorter flights, first to the Inca capital of Cusco, then on to Puerto Maldonado which is a frontier town on the very edge of the jungle frequented by gold prospectors and the like. Marcel and his partner German Vasquez-Solis Talavera met us at the small airport with a truck to transport us the Wasai main lodge from where we were ferried by fast motorised canoe 80 miles up river to the Wasai jungle lodge which is a series of chalets (wooden huts) surrounding an open planned central lodge in a jungle clearing just above the river bank. Its muddy, it's hot, and electricity is only available for about 4 hours each evening, with shower water piped straight in from the river. But the sights, sounds and foods of the jungle are an experience not to be missed.

We arrived at the lodge in the dark having spent the final hour running by lamp light surrounded by a snow storm of insects and bats, and the red eyes of caiman crocodiles all along the banks. Just time for a quick over-view of the tackle and itinerary, then some sleep in readiness for a pre-breakfast start. The boat, along with its Indian handler Ceasar was ours 24 hours a day. Everything would revolve around the use of the boat. But not all the fishing would be done from the boat. Sometimes it would be secured to objects such as rocks or fallen trees protruding from the water. But in the main it would be used to put us either onto rocks or shallow submerged mid river gravel bars from which we would wade to the inner edge of deep holes hopefully containing fish.

Not really knowing what to expect, I took far more tackle than I would ever need, a lot of which with hindsight either could or should have been left at home. In the end I settled on a single outfit and small selection of end gear which comfortably covered everything. The rod was a Normark 8 foot Gord Burton Thunderstick which was perfect for both the lure and the bait fishing. There is a raft of similar rods on the market that could do the same job. The reel however in my opinion cannot be compromised. Tackle boxes and rod stands don't enter the equation here. You are on foot much of the time, often stood knee deep in turbulent water mid river, and always holding the rod. For this reason the reel has to be a baitrunner. The version I was recommended to take was the Shimano BTR6500B. An inspired suggestion.

There could not have been a better choice of reel, though when I set out I couldn't have known how good a decision it would prove to be. Quite a large reel by freshwater fixed spool standards loaded with 300 metres of 40 lbs bs Antares braid. The sheer winching power through its large handle made all the difference for me. The guides had Shimano baitrunners too, but 'only' the 3500 version which I tried and struggled with. Cranking large diving lures back through the deep fast water runs where payara hang out for hours on end requires tackle you can feel comfortable with. Simply winding the lure back under those conditions is the equivalent of playing a small fish every cast. In addition to this, the baitrunner system is the only way to approach bait fishing on the hoof or from the bow of a canoe. Its ultra- smooth drag is also worthy of note.

A good selection of lures, wire traces with quality quick change link swivels, a selection of hooks in the 1/0 to 6/0 bracket, barrel swivels, and leads of maybe a couple of ounces is all the end tackle you need. The bait fishing was done with a wire trace from one loop of a three way swivel with the weight on a short dropper from the other loop. I would have preferred a running leger had I taken the right components, but the fish in these parts could hardly be described as hook shy. However, with hindsight I wished I had taken more smaller lures. Much of what I had was around the size of a Rapala CD18. These catch fish but I feel a CD14 size might have caught more. Patterns include Rapala Sliver, Countdown and Magnum, or Rok-Max and MirrOlure. Bright colours are essential as the water can be quite coloured. The best thing is to have a chat with Paul Bowers at Rok-Max lures who can also provide much of what else is required. We swapped all the trebles for stronger 4/0's provided by UK hooks.

Payara as I have already said were right at the top of my list, and on day one, Marcel missed a ferocious take on only his second cast, then had one on the deck half an hour later. That gave me real heart. These are impressive fish in every sense of the word with their silver salmon shaped profile and huge shovel like tails to power them through the deep fast water. But it's the other end that really catches the eye. Payara have teeth like you have never seen with two huge fangs in the bottom jaw bone so large that they fit into holes through the upper jaw for the fish to be able to close its mouth. These fish fight like demons with some impressive acrobatics and long powerful runs using the flow of the water to their advantage at every opportunity. Unfortunately, the conversion rate of hits to fish landed is quite low, possibly as a result of the dentistry making it difficult at times to get the lure inside its mouth.

An equally impressive fish, though for totally different reasons is the Pacu or giant piranha. These are free biting shoaling fish living in the deeper scour holes. Simple bait fishing is the standard approach. After running the boat aground we would then wade across to the lip of the hole, throw in a bait, click on the baitrunner and wait. Bites start off quite in-offensively with a few rattles and tugs, usually followed by a slow run on the ratchet. It's when you set the hook that the bomb on the end of the line quite literally explodes. Imagine standing on a motorway bridge and hooking a passing truck in the fast lane with the drag wound up fairly tight. That's what a Pacu feels like when the hook is driven home, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Dawn had the first one from a piece of exposed banking over looking a deep glide. That fish went 14 pounds and led her a right old song and dance. My first taste of success came a little later after a move to the middle of the river and a string of missed hits. The reel was again loaded with 40 lbs braid with the drag wound up pretty tight, so you can imagine the pressure required to take line from the spool. This fish however was taking line as well as dragging me along stumbling knee deep in fast flowing water, while at the same time leaping into the air repeatedly as it powered off downstream. It's hard to imagine a fish the size and shape of a dustbin lid doing that. The nearest thing I can liken them too would by saltwater jacks or permit. These fish possess power way beyond their size. They fight to the absolute death, and they are wonderful to eat.

Sticking with interesting incidents for a moment, let me touch on two others which are etched onto my mind. The first came during a bait fishing session for pacu. I had a bite that failed to develop, so I decided to wind in for a bait check. As soon as I started cranking the reel I knew there was something there, but nothing of consequence, or so I thought. Then it hit surface around 30 yards out. Marcel and German immediately started to back off. They thought the long green and yellow shape in the water was an anaconda. Then as it got closer the realisation that it was even worse suddenly dawned on them. It was an electric eel capable of belting out a charge of 600 volts, and we were stood knee deep in water just a few yards from it. What a performance trying to get it off the hook. Marcel added another the following day. Fortunately both appear to have already discharged themselves in deeper water before coming in.

The other incident started with a run upstream through a section of rapids against the flow in the dark which was 'interesting', after which we were put onto a gravel island to fish for half an hour while the boat dropped a couple off bird watchers off upstream. As we were not catching fish, and as Ceasar had not returned to move us on, Marcel decided to wade across to the shore line to go look for him. As he rounded the first bend in the river he was greeted by squealing capybaras running up the bank just ahead of him. Wondering what had spooked them he was then confronted by a large puma maybe 40 yards away staring him straight in the eye stood in the water with a capybara between its teeth. Suddenly standing fishless waiting for Caesar didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

It would be mis-leading of me to suggest that the fishing was easy. As a sea angler back home, I tend to think that's its only us that have to deal with natural complications such as wind, rain and tides. But river fishing can be equally fickle, particularly when it rains. With an average 15 trillion (15 million, million, million) cubic metres of rainfall per year, it even makes east Lancashire look dry. My visit was right at the end of the dry season, with a bit of early rainfall to complicate things. River levels can rise by metres over night wiping out all surface signs of holes and glides that had produced fish just the day before. September would be a good month. We went in October and caught the tail end of it. But with all objectives achieved, a trip that will take some beating in either freshwater or at sea.

SEE THE VIDEO VAULT - Project Payara