Graeme Hughes is hoping for a busman's retirement - spending more time fishing, duck-shooting and hunting in the Waitaki Valley.
Mr Hughes (67) will retire at the end of March from a career that started as a teenager in a part-time job with the North Canterbury Acclimatisation Society.
He will step down in his 49th year as an officer with the Central South Island Fish and Game Council.
He came to Kurow in 1976 for ''a new life with a new wife, new ute, new house and new dog - not necessarily in that order''.
Since then, he has been the ''go-to man'' on anything to do with fishing and hunting in the area, freely handing out advice on ''what to use, when to use it, where to use it and how long to use it'' to locals and visitors.
But what about him?
Will it be a life of fishing, hunting and shooting?
''When I get to the bottom of the list the bride [as he affectionately calls wife Colleen] is preparing, as we speak.
"How long that will take - well it could be a while unless it's too wet to mow the lawns or paint.
''I can see a lot of wet fishing days in my foreseeable future.''
Almost as renowned for his dry humour as his extensive knowledge, Mr Hughes recounts notable experiences.
They are delivered with the timing of a true comedian.
Like the time he was called to the Christchurch homestead Mona Vale, in the heart of Fendalton, to remove a white muscovy duck from among the pure wild duck breeds on the Avon River.
He netted it and when he stopped to refuel the truck the garage owner found out what was in the bag and asked if he could have the duck.
The duck was left at the garage.
Not long after getting back to the office, he got a call from a woman who explained Gemima, the family's white pet duck, had escaped and she understood that he had captured it.
In a panic, Mr Hughes told her he would phone back, frantically rang the garage only to be told the duck was ''plucked, bagged and in the freezer''.
''All I could do was tell the truth. I couldn't find another duck to match that quickly. They were pretty unhappy, but accepted the duck had escaped.''
Born in Dunedin and brought up in Christchurch, his first recollection of what would become a lifelong vocation - ''it's not a job, it's a living'' - was his father taking him fishing off a Dunedin wharf.
In Christchurch, he started freshwater fishing as a child on the Avon River.
Straight out of school in 1966, he found his ''ideal job'' with the North Canterbury Acclimatisation Society (the forerunner of fish and game councils) assisting and rearing partridges at its Greenpark game farm.
In those early days, about 70% of the time was spent ranging (checking licences and methods of duck-shooters and anglers).
Over time that has changed, from acclimatisation societies run by enthusiastic volunteers to fish and game councils which now have as much an advocacy role for the environment as for fishing and hunting.
He does not criticise that and accepts it is the way the job has changed.
However, he believed the societies' close connection with licence holders had been affected and councils were regarded by some as a government department.
