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FISHING AUSTRALIA

BROOME

TOP END OF WESTERN AUSTRALIA

        I was given this chance by Aussie Adventurer, Malcolm DOUGLAS.   He invited me to Broome in Western Australia to have a shot at a Sailfish on Fly.  Well that didn’t eventuate due to a technical problem called WIND.  We tried for three out of four days, having a lay day due to that goddamn wind.  The other contingency was to go north into the Kimberley’s and try for anything that would take a fly.  This was my preference as towing plastic around the ocean waiting for a single cast at a fish is not my preference when it comes to tossing a fly.

    The drive to Point Leveque was real fun, 5 hours to travel 200 kilometres, towing a 6.4 metre Trailcraft Boat on a dirt track that had more corrugations than any city of iron roofs.  The boat ramp was at the Aboriginal Mission at One Arm Point, which is at the southern end of the Buccaneer Archipelago.   There were 4 of us, Charter Operator “Rocka” , the Cameraman Mark, Malcolm and myself.

    The weather had turned for the better and we were to fish in sleeky calm conditions for all three days.  The first thing I noticed was the scenic beauty and then the tidal movement, which we would be fishing.  The tidal fall was 6-8 metres, and being a fisherman, that was more important at that stage of the trip.  As the days went by and the fishing proved itself to be beyond belief, I started to look around and appreciate what I was seeing.  We were to travel about 30 Kilometres north east of the boat ramp amongst some 800 islands and everywhere you looked was something different.  A waterfall of about 4 metres on the coral reef, an area where the current formed into a swell that broke on itself, and the fact that at all times you fished near dangerous tidal movement that could take you by surprise.

    We left the boat ramp at about 2.30pm and headed to a rock poking out of the water about 5 kilometres from the boat ramp.  We needed fish for the evening meal and I was to provide it.  Yeah right.  I had never fished the tropics having lived in Victoria for all of my 54 years and believed that this was going to be a giant learning curve for a guy who was used to catching Flathead, Salmon, Mako Sharks, Couta etc. on fly in our southern climes.

    Malcolm positioned the boat in an eddy behind the rock with the current roaring by on both sides and I put on my usual blue and white pilchard pattern.  I was using a fast sinking shooting head and let it go down for about 15 seconds before starting to strip.  Third strip, I was hooked up to a Spanish Flag.  This was looking good with Queen-fish breaking the surface nearby.   I fished for about 10 minutes with no further luck and decided to change fly.  I selected a small bait-fish pattern that Malcolm suggested was representative of the local bait in size, shape and colour.  I cast it to a rising Queen-fish and first cast hooked up.  Fluke, right.  WRONG. Third cast another small queen-fish.  Seventh cast a Queen-fish about 600 mm long broke the surface near the boat and I cast to it for an immediate hook-up.  Fly Fishing heaven.  I have no idea how many Queen-fish I caught for the 1.5 hour session, but after changing tactics and fishing deep I added a Big Eye Trevally and a Blue Bone to the list, to make it four species.   Dinner was superb, anybody who tells you that Trevally and Queen-fish are not worth eating should have them as fresh as this and cooked over an open fire where they smoke slightly and with a few spices thrown in, just to top it off.

    We camped under the stars on a beach for the night and I was in bed asleep by 7pm.  I don’t even send my kids to bed at that time, but wanted to be ready for the big day tomorrow.  Of course we were up at dawn and after a quick breakfast headed off to the next aquarium.  The island we were to fish around was about 100 metres long and the tide was roaring at about 15 knots.  No eddy this time.  We would pull up at the face which fronted the current, have about three casts and have to move before you ended up on the rocks.  It didn’t matter though.  My first cast produced a Queen-fish.  On the second drift I noticed a Trevally of about 3 kgs, I don’t know what sort, come out of the depths to something on the surface, I placed the fly in front of it and it never even hesitated.  I raised the rod tip and watched as it headed home.  Trevally one and Terry none.  The very next drift the same thing happened but due to a different approach, with the boat in deeper water, I was able to keep the fish away from the reef and some 5 minutes later I was holding my first Golden Trevally.  It was only about 2.5kg but who cares.  Sight fishing these fish was better than blind flogging for bigger fish.  During this session I was to catch another Golden Trevally, another Spanish Flag and more Queen-fish than is decent.  Most were sight fished as they were feeding on the surface in the running current.

                                     At the back of this island there was a small beach and lunch consisted of Golden Trevally and Deb mashed potato.  During lunch we discussed the flies used in this Salt-water Fly-Fishing caper.  During one of our many pre-trip telephone conversations, Malcolm had suggested that I bring a small white bait-fish pattern.  I had tried several patterns of this style and caught one trevally on a Clouser Deep Minnow.  Every other fish caught by Malcolm and myself to this stage had been caught on the bait-fish pattern called a “Shaggy Dog”.  It is simplicity itself and was developed by Peter COULSON of “Dog Tooth” in Melbourne.  The correct tie is a work of art but I cannot be bothered spending time tying flies and I call my version “The Rough as Guts”, plain white synthetic material, trimmed to shape, eyes and a bit of blue or black texta over the back.  This fly was to prove itself continuously.  I eventually gave up trying other flies and used it exclusively, having to make more flies each evening for the next day.

    As soon as lunch was finished, Malcolm took me to a causeway between 2 islands that has mangroves into the water at high tide.  We drifted the length of it and the only fish, which I missed, was a nice Mangrove Jack, which came out of the deep and headed back there after bashing my fly but missing the pointy bit.  We were almost to the end of the drift and there was a gap in the Mangroves where the water formed an eddy in a corner.   I cast close to the mangroves and was immediately hooked up to a small GT.  I didn’t even get to strip the fly.  For the next hour or so, wall to wall GT’s.  The best we caught was just under 2kg, but what a session  

    Back to the camp and some serious fly tying, fresh GT in curry with rice and another early night.

                                      I  won’t bore you with the details of the fishing on the next morning except to say, “More of the same”.  After a very productive session Malcolm took me to one of his favourite spots in this glorious place, where he explained about the waterfall which occurred with the outgoing tide where the coral reef fell away steeply onto a flat bank about 4 metres below.  As we were there on the incoming tide I was more interested in throwing a fly in this 1 metre deep water.  As we drifted along I cast the usual fly and yes, first cast, caught a small Coral Trout.  Well the pressure was on, there were 4 of us and I was required to catch enough Coral Trout for lunch.  I had to apologise at the end of the session, I only had three and a Blue Bone, plus a Trevally which Malcolm and “Rocka” had never seen before.  After checking a species book later it turned out to be a Gold Spotted Trevally.

    That night we camped on a different island so that we could see the Waterfall at daybreak.  Was he right.  I forgot about fishing as at daylight we cruised into the shallows to see this spectacular sight of water teeming over the edge, 3-4 metres drop onto the shallows below.

    The tides had changed and the fishing was a bit harder on that day but I was almost fished out anyway and we headed for home mid afternoon.

  The species count for two and a half days consisted of Queenfish (dunno how many), Golden Trevally (3), GT’s (lost count), Big Eye Trevally (1), Coral Trout (3), Spanish Flag (2), Blue Bone (5) and the Gold Spotted Trevally (This was the highlight for me.  To catch a fish on fly which two experienced guys didn’t know).  Not a bad return from an old bloke with one leg.  

    During the trip Malcolm and “Rocka” continuously complained about the lack of birds and the fact that we were fishing the “Spring Tides” and therefore the fishing was not up to standard.  Well, if that is what it is like during the bad times imagine the fishing when it is hot.

    If you were to venture to One arm Point, for some very serious fishing do so with somebody experienced in the area.  At no time during the trip did I have a clue of the location of the boat ramp and every island became the same as the last and with 800 to pick from, imagine how lost you could become.  And if that is not enough, the run of the tide is scary.  I fish “The Rip” out of Port Phillip Bay and it is a pussy compared to the current that runs around these islands.  At it’s peak the current can be surging at 15-20 knots with up to 10 metres of tide.  So at high tide you can have plenty of water and low tide you could be stranded or worse.

    And yes, I am going back if I get the chance.

WEIPA

NORTHERN QUEENSLAND

  In May 2004, one of my fishing buddies, Martin Van Velzen, and I landed in Weipa all fired up to thrash the water to a pulp with another friend, Anthony GOMES.  Anthony has the pleasure of living at Weipa.  As usual, this was to be a total fly- fishing trip, as I don’t know of any other way to catch fish these days.

    Basically the week was pure bliss with more fish than we could cope with on any given day and I came away almost fished out.  ALMOST, but not quite.

    On the second day we ended up at Boyd Point having fished our way south, with Anthony showing us the ropes on where to fish.  We caught some Queenies and a couple of Golden Trevally inshore at Boyd Point and as we cruised around into one of the bays, we spotted a 2 metre crocodile cruising just offshore.  We thought that he could have that piece of water and moved about 200 metres south before starting to cast again.  I was in the middle of a cast when the boat rocked instead of rolling and I went backwards over the side.  I came back to the surface, rod still in hand and the thought, “How fast can a croc swim”.  If Martin had stopped laughing long enough to help me back into the boat, I don’t think I would have even got wet but that wasn’t the case.  Eventually I was sitting in the transom corner of the boat, stripped to my jocks and waiting for the clothes to dry before I put them back on.

            We decided to go out wider and see if there were any tuna about and about a kilometre offshore we were amongst bust ups with tuna chasing bait schools.  We spent about half an hour trying to sneak up on these and every time we got within casting distance the fish went down.  I decided to try something different.  I cast as far as I could with a fast sink shooting head and let it sink.  After about 20 seconds I would strip, let the drift of the boat tighten the line and then strip again.  Did I mention that it was blowing about 15 knots at the time.  I know, the purists will say this is not fly fishing, but it is still a lot of fun as on about the fifth strip, the rod nearly got pulled out of my hand.  The run lasted about 5 seconds and went slack.  When I pulled the line in, the fly was gone.  I tied on another RAG Fly and tried the same again with the same result.  There must be something wrong with the knot I was using, so I changed from a uni-knot to a blood knot.  Three hits and three bust ups. 

                         In the back-ground, Martin wasn’t saying much and decided to try the same stripping style.   Within half a dozen strips, he was into a fish and a short time later he had his first tuna on fly to the boat and I gaffed it.  I don’t know why, but he seemed a bit chuffed with himself for beating the “old bloke” at his own game. Back in the mid 80’s, as a Commercial Fisherman, I rod and reeled the East Coast of Australia for Tuna and I immediately bled and gutted the fish Sashimi style and we put it on ice.  Sashimi and marinated tuna steaks sounded like a good evening meal to me. 

            As I was taking the fly out of the fishes mouth I noticed that Martin had been fishing with 30lb tippet and when I said to him about it, he commented that I didn’t seem to be having much luck with the 20lb so he wanted to increase his chances.  Another lesson for the “old bloke”.

            I was about to tie on another fly, so snipped it back to the 30lb and was about to cast, when about 80 metres from where we were sitting, a bait ball appeared with sharks, dolphins and tuna ripping through it.  I was sitting in the back corner of the boat as Anthony approached and I cast about 30’ to the left of the bait ball.  As the fly hit the water, it got nailed and I missed it.  I was about to let go with a string of obscenities when the rod was again nearly pulled from my hand.  The line peeled off at that amazing speed that these guys are capable of and this time the tippet held.  Funny thing that.  Maybe I should have backed off the drag a bit, but this was a lot of fun.  After it turned I winched it back to the boat with comments in the background of  how I was going to break the #10 weight TFO Rod if I didn’t back off. 

I had colour under the boat and was about to pat myself on the back as to how quick I had done this when in came a grey backed mini submarine and the line went slack.

        We considered having another go at them, but I am not into feeding sharks with good wholesome tuna, so we packed up and headed north.  We finished the day off at Wooldrum Point catching Queenfish to about 80cms.

Two days later, we were cruising south, when I noticed a disturbance close inshore.  Upon investigation, we found a Manta Ray feeding in about 6' of water. For the next 2 hours we followed it around catching Queenfish, and Golden Trevally from around it.  There was also a Cobia there, but it would not take a fly.  For 3 days we successfully fished around the Manta Ray, with it sometimes being only a rod length from the boat.  What a magnificent being they are and so graceful.  We also found out that it wasn't much fun to prick it with a fly as Martin lost about 150 yards of line at a very high rate before being able to ping the tippet, when a misplaced cast had him doing a very dramatic test on a "Salmon" Hayden fly reel.