Friday night saw us on the beers and squidding in the harbour. They were picky as a kid with a running nose, but we still managed a handful. Mainly calamari, which was good, however they were so bloody hard to tempt even on 1.5 size jigs as it was too hard to get a visual on when to strike when we could 'kinda' see them at our feet.
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| So tempting to fry them up... Oh well |
Saturday saw me whip out the fly rod. Drifting a bread fly off a wharf in a bread berley trail seemed like a great idea.
The wind was heavy, in our faces, the odd cloud was spitting - a storm looked to be abrewing.
Not enough cause for frustration when you're fishing though. I was there, and I was going to catch something!
Well, the Mullet never showed. Instead we were entertained by just legal squire sucking up the Berley, and fly!
As we were packing up, I opted for, yep, you guessed it, one last cast. And what a choice that was!
Small bream are slowly slurping up the trail, I see one grab the fly, a small fish.
Doh! I pull the hook out.
Fly still intact, I allow it all to keep drifting around.
Much to my pleasure, a large silver figure rises up from the murky waters, and it wastes no time. The fly, its only desire.
Leaving the spin reel open, he heads out to sea, unaware of his last meal's imminent sting.
Close that bail arm and off we go! A first run, blistering. Just madness. The 4# (I think) weight is bent to the butt, the sol's a-screaming, the braid is crackling! The jewels are in my stomach. This is a beast.
Finally, a lunge sees the first run over. She holds, shaking her head in disagreeance, but no. She likes to run, and run she will."Here we go again"
Some tight moments followed while the fish was back at the wharf.
It just wanted one last taste of the oysters before its admittance of defeat, but some careful angling and pulling it back out from behind pontoons saw the animal surface, brought to the steps and lifted in.
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| Honker |
I didn't get a proper measure, but she was big, and swam off gracefully.
Once again I will shamelessly plug my love for 8lb leaders. I may have got more bites on 4, but there's no way it could have standed up the bare-knuckled, locked-up fishing.
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| Release the bream... |
That night we opted for a bit of shark and jew fishing, wanting to utilise our fresh squid while we had the chance.
Long story short, a great night of laughs, booze and eels followed. Thanks Michael, Nathaniel and Ben for coming.
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| Yummy.... |
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| Knew we shouldn't have trusted Nath with a trolly.. |
Wiped out from the all nighter, we wandered down the creek for some bread and butter flicking. The action was intense for over an hour! Choppers a-plenty and even a large school of okay longtom arrived, however the only solid hookup obtained resulted in a bite off.
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| Spinning for flathead |
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| Surface luring for Whiting, tailor and longtom |
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| Ben loves his Shitmano Stradshit ci4 |
Great experiences all round, and a great weekend to boot.
Cheers.
Dave
