“He would often walk 10-15km each day, stalking kingfish,” Miller said.
“Kingfish ride on the back of stingrays, so he would watch for the subtle ripples and the dark disk shapes gliding in the water.”
Ambassador, pioneer
Miller said the retired wildlife officer loved to pass on his knowledge, and would get messages from as far away as the United Kingdom asking for advice or for him to be a fishing guide in the Bay of Plenty.
“Dick was a great ambassador for Tauranga and pioneered flyfishing in salt water. He taught multitudes of fishermen how to catch a kingfish on a fly, which is extremely difficult to do,” said Miller.
“His largest kingfish was 22kg, and he released every kingfish he caught. He was very concerned about the decreasing numbers in the harbour.”
Conservation passion
Marquand is survived by his five children. On Facebook, Marquand’s son Shane Marquand described his father as a man “seldom without a smile”.
“I grew up idolising this man and stuck to him as if I was his shadow,” he wrote.
“He was very passionate regarding the conservation of New Zealand nature; from the mountains down the streams to the seas.”
Marquand had been diagnosed with breast cancer in July 2020. More recently, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, but it was a comfort to Miller that he spent the day fishing before passing so suddenly.
The drug
“One of his sayings was, ‘The tug is the drug’. When I was with him, I felt like I was with David Attenborough. His knowledge and love of nature was incredible,” Miller said.
“Dick was also very social. He had almost 5000 Facebook friends and would talk to everyone he met at the waterfront and delighted in patting their dogs. He always carried dog treats. My dog still waits for him.”
Miller described Marquand as the kindest person he knew, recalling the time a 2.4m bronze whaler swam by, dragging a line in its mouth.
“He grabbed the shark by the tail and flipped it upside down, which puts the shark in a ‘quiet’ state. He was able to remove the hooks, line and seaweed and the shark swam away.
“Another day, when I was fishing with him, a pod of orcas swam within 30m of us and started flipping eagle rays into the air and catching them in their mouths. It was a sight to behold.”
Miller said he was planning a memorial seat on the Matua waterfront with a plaque dedicated to Marquand.
“Dick was considered fly fishing ‘royalty’ and I was so privileged to call him my friend. Rest in peace, Dick. You were extraordinary.”