Posts
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Canberra - Lake Burley Griffin 7/2/09
Here ye, here ye… The goose has spoken!
My Outfitter feels neglected most of the time, gathering dust tucked away ungracefully in my hording room (Garage). The spritely Quest is often whisked away like a mistress in heat set to tame my brooding wants; while the ugly duckling ponders a dim future (Do I upgrade, sell or do I not?). It has been kempt in gracious condition and is always eager to please its master, as my better half tends to abscond to the Shoppe on a multiple basis.
Hearing the plight of forlorn freedom the mighty duck volunteered its supreme granite service to friends young and old. Travelling well on strange vehicles isn’t in her character but she is of wise will and rambunctious attitude (Along with good health). Two strangers mounted her girth in hope ones visit could become one guides pleasure, sliding off into the grounds trod often before, futures seemed positive with new heights sure to be reached on this gracious day.
The Outfitters job focus was not unknown; capture the foreign invaders whilst with opportunity study the native fauna. The two intrepid explorers began understanding its grace, plundering the lake and entrapping the English. A European spy was sent to assassinate the ships captain amid weeds and wonders, quickly lured foul to traps set far and wide. While the English were in plague proportions, the spy was stubborn under guard (Swapping freedom with words on indigenous local).
Viewing these foreign objects as a blessing in disguise, the Quest left her escorting post and was bound for glory. Out of the spotlight she was not tame, leaching the water of any matter found. One return sortie saw her defend and encounter the native pride well, a Golden hue only darkened by the passing of a hired bounty hunter. The greenest envy gleamed for the side of the tin hull, its pilot muttering terms of ‘Victory and beyond’ and something versed about a ‘Cod or death’.
The above words furrowed my brow and began roughening the Quests mane. Sultry dreams of unbleached exploits were pulled by rank, once again all eyes met the Outfitter and the job was complete. The endeavour was a success with both the Captain and the Navigator suitably impressed. It is not often one loans a vessel of her magnitude, even with such stone temple pilots. She was beached with great abandon and ovation, completing another tale in the Outfitter legacy.
My Outfitter feels neglected most of the time, gathering dust tucked away ungracefully in my hording room (Garage). The spritely Quest is often whisked away like a mistress in heat set to tame my brooding wants; while the ugly duckling ponders a dim future (Do I upgrade, sell or do I not?). It has been kempt in gracious condition and is always eager to please its master, as my better half tends to abscond to the Shoppe on a multiple basis.
Hearing the plight of forlorn freedom the mighty duck volunteered its supreme granite service to friends young and old. Travelling well on strange vehicles isn’t in her character but she is of wise will and rambunctious attitude (Along with good health). Two strangers mounted her girth in hope ones visit could become one guides pleasure, sliding off into the grounds trod often before, futures seemed positive with new heights sure to be reached on this gracious day.
The Outfitters job focus was not unknown; capture the foreign invaders whilst with opportunity study the native fauna. The two intrepid explorers began understanding its grace, plundering the lake and entrapping the English. A European spy was sent to assassinate the ships captain amid weeds and wonders, quickly lured foul to traps set far and wide. While the English were in plague proportions, the spy was stubborn under guard (Swapping freedom with words on indigenous local).
Viewing these foreign objects as a blessing in disguise, the Quest left her escorting post and was bound for glory. Out of the spotlight she was not tame, leaching the water of any matter found. One return sortie saw her defend and encounter the native pride well, a Golden hue only darkened by the passing of a hired bounty hunter. The greenest envy gleamed for the side of the tin hull, its pilot muttering terms of ‘Victory and beyond’ and something versed about a ‘Cod or death’.
The above words furrowed my brow and began roughening the Quests mane. Sultry dreams of unbleached exploits were pulled by rank, once again all eyes met the Outfitter and the job was complete. The endeavour was a success with both the Captain and the Navigator suitably impressed. It is not often one loans a vessel of her magnitude, even with such stone temple pilots. She was beached with great abandon and ovation, completing another tale in the Outfitter legacy.
Canberra - Staff Training 4/2/09
Today was a good day,
My staff member Pat has been working with me on and off for the past year, with my incessant ramblings on kayak fishing finally taking its toll he insisted it was time for some extra curricular staff training. Being north side born and bred I figured a run after work on his home lake would be a great idea, I changed my mind when I reviewed my track history of said location (It was seriously not good).
A few smaller impoundments lurked near by and with some recent good success (Both landed and lost) I had high hopes of getting him onto a good fish. Patrick is quite the novice fisherman but keen as mustard to learn some good technique, obviously angling from a kayak is a whole new ball game but I decided trolling a lure around would be easy enough. The Outfitter was ready to go an hour after shutting shop, quickly pointing out the features of the yak was enough to cover the basics (Drive goes here, don’t stand up etc).
It was quite calm for the first hour but a few large raindrops threatened to spoil the adventure, a quality storm was brewing in the distance. Small medium diving Chubby imitations were deployed port and starboard, these lures (With upgraded Owner trebles) are cheap enough to lose and have proven to be deadly on Golden Perch and Murray Cod. Hopes were high and the depth achieved was exactly what we were looking for, not too deep but enough to just avoid the tips of the weed plague.
Must have been the day for fishing as the banks were building with hopefuls, I forgot to check the barometer before leaving but building storms were sure to bring the fish on the bite. A couple of kayaks practiced paddling with another sole fishing the wall, accompanied by a lone tinny with an electric motor (Ignoring the ‘No Boats’ sign). Siding a weed bed I felt a tap rapidly followed by another and then I struck, coming up solid the fight was a little easier than usual but I still had no clue as to its species.
Pat was keen to help and with prime seating position was carefully passed the net, followed by (In his words) ‘That’s totally hectic’ digital camera. The fish appeared long but the water was clear enough to see past the initial shape, a lovely Golden Perch over 50cm graced the net with Patrick’s new found skills. The lure was completely engulfed and I sensed trouble from the new trebles, luckily for the fish it ended up being extracted quite easily.
Got a few good shots on the camera and showed Patrick why I enjoy releasing these fish the most, the Perch settled once the lip grips were loosened and I was promptly soaked from the rough beat of its tail. I really wanted Pat to hook up and enjoy his maiden yak fishing experience; spying my top spots up ahead we trolled a path that was sure to initiate another bump. Sure enough about two minutes later I felt that repeated touch through the braid then nothing, normally I wouldn’t strike when trolling and even after loading the rod early last time I doubt it would have made a difference.
The wind pushed in hard about 8pm and made life interesting, at one point a gust almost spun us around (Considering the 170kg on board it was quite a feat) so we retreated to points out of the bellowing breath. My friend Jason came down for a chat and a cast or two, while he had no luck he did manage his first Cod on surface lure the night before (On of all things, a Strom Hopper Popper). The Light started to fade fast which formed a dual opinion, why not pack up while one can still see?
It was a great bonding exercise and one I approved (Unlike ‘Staff vs. Boss’ Paintball event), Pat is off to University next week and will be sad to see him go. He has helped me out when we needed him most and ultimately helped shape my store into what it is today. He is also a 19 year old kid who likes to drink slabs while attempting to catch Carp (Quite often while swimming apparently), he was totally stoked to come face to face with a Native species. Before he left work today he had a funny look in his eye and asked if I was going fishing again, should I take the hint?
I think he is hooked…
My staff member Pat has been working with me on and off for the past year, with my incessant ramblings on kayak fishing finally taking its toll he insisted it was time for some extra curricular staff training. Being north side born and bred I figured a run after work on his home lake would be a great idea, I changed my mind when I reviewed my track history of said location (It was seriously not good).
A few smaller impoundments lurked near by and with some recent good success (Both landed and lost) I had high hopes of getting him onto a good fish. Patrick is quite the novice fisherman but keen as mustard to learn some good technique, obviously angling from a kayak is a whole new ball game but I decided trolling a lure around would be easy enough. The Outfitter was ready to go an hour after shutting shop, quickly pointing out the features of the yak was enough to cover the basics (Drive goes here, don’t stand up etc).
It was quite calm for the first hour but a few large raindrops threatened to spoil the adventure, a quality storm was brewing in the distance. Small medium diving Chubby imitations were deployed port and starboard, these lures (With upgraded Owner trebles) are cheap enough to lose and have proven to be deadly on Golden Perch and Murray Cod. Hopes were high and the depth achieved was exactly what we were looking for, not too deep but enough to just avoid the tips of the weed plague.
Must have been the day for fishing as the banks were building with hopefuls, I forgot to check the barometer before leaving but building storms were sure to bring the fish on the bite. A couple of kayaks practiced paddling with another sole fishing the wall, accompanied by a lone tinny with an electric motor (Ignoring the ‘No Boats’ sign). Siding a weed bed I felt a tap rapidly followed by another and then I struck, coming up solid the fight was a little easier than usual but I still had no clue as to its species.
Pat was keen to help and with prime seating position was carefully passed the net, followed by (In his words) ‘That’s totally hectic’ digital camera. The fish appeared long but the water was clear enough to see past the initial shape, a lovely Golden Perch over 50cm graced the net with Patrick’s new found skills. The lure was completely engulfed and I sensed trouble from the new trebles, luckily for the fish it ended up being extracted quite easily.
Got a few good shots on the camera and showed Patrick why I enjoy releasing these fish the most, the Perch settled once the lip grips were loosened and I was promptly soaked from the rough beat of its tail. I really wanted Pat to hook up and enjoy his maiden yak fishing experience; spying my top spots up ahead we trolled a path that was sure to initiate another bump. Sure enough about two minutes later I felt that repeated touch through the braid then nothing, normally I wouldn’t strike when trolling and even after loading the rod early last time I doubt it would have made a difference.
The wind pushed in hard about 8pm and made life interesting, at one point a gust almost spun us around (Considering the 170kg on board it was quite a feat) so we retreated to points out of the bellowing breath. My friend Jason came down for a chat and a cast or two, while he had no luck he did manage his first Cod on surface lure the night before (On of all things, a Strom Hopper Popper). The Light started to fade fast which formed a dual opinion, why not pack up while one can still see?
It was a great bonding exercise and one I approved (Unlike ‘Staff vs. Boss’ Paintball event), Pat is off to University next week and will be sad to see him go. He has helped me out when we needed him most and ultimately helped shape my store into what it is today. He is also a 19 year old kid who likes to drink slabs while attempting to catch Carp (Quite often while swimming apparently), he was totally stoked to come face to face with a Native species. Before he left work today he had a funny look in his eye and asked if I was going fishing again, should I take the hint?
I think he is hooked…
Genoa - Wallagaraugh River 24/1/09, 25/1/09
Introduction:
Genoa is a sleepy Victorian town consisting of various sand filtered rivers that extend below and around Mt. Imlay, down to the infamous waterway of Mallacoota. From various intel gathered, I deduced that some exciting fishing is still to be had before and beyond the bridge over the Wallagaraugh River. My Australia Day family long weekend getaways have previously consisted of trips to various destinations in between Canberra and Melbourne, with only one small proviso ever put in place (Must be Kayak Fishing heaven).
This time last year we explored the regional waters of Gypsy Point, Mallacoota and the Betka River but were slightly overwhelmed at the increased tourism. The search was on for another quality vacation, with Lakes Entrance being deemed too far and Bemm River being too remote for the kids. I was pleasantly surprised to find my future Brother in law had coordinated a River Retreat, located on the banks of the Wallagaraugh River. I knew it held Estuary Perch, Bream and Bass in its furthest reaches, what I did not realise at the time is what sort of haven it was for monster Flathead.
Travelling from Canberra via Cooma and the Monaro, our four hour journey into Mexican waters was pleasant enough, even if the missed Mt. Imlay turnoff might have shaved half an hour off travel time. Storms greeted us on arrival at the Wallagaraugh River Retreat and so did the Bream. I have commented once before on the successful breeding prowess of Bream in the area and here was no exception. Apart from patches of small Gar the sandy flat lays of the land provide excellent highways for the travelling fish, and open tide lanes for the ever present Cormorant. These family holidays are never short of spectacular; with two kayaks (Including a tandem Outfitter) and 11 adults I was never short of a fishing companion.
The sounds of schlepping at night were enough to encourage others to set their alarms without provoking, if they were not up when I was ready to go fishing I wasn’t going to be kept waiting.The Wallagaraugh River has seen better days, like its coastal brethren it’s becoming subdued with sand deposits. The spread out, snake like bends still held decent depth but certain stretchy sections bottomed out at the measly half a metre mark. In the River’s defence we were located a couple of km’s from any major tidal flow and with 16 hours of solid fishing over two days, the tide varied very little at all (So much so I couldn’t tell the difference). Still it contained positive potential and lacked only one thing, huge crowds of people.
The whole River Retreat scheme played out perfectly over the whole weekend, after managing to meet the Hobie fanatic owners I found out why (“Thanks for coming, don’t tell too many people!”). Camping a hundred metres from the waters edge was more than ideal, only a short trolley trip down to the facilities tired old boat ramp. My favourite way to fish saltwater river systems like this is to play the plastic chuck and chance, along with of course the hard body stroll and troll. After gauging the rivers depth and feeder creeks, I decided to deviate a little from my traditional sand stirring techniques and look for significant drop offs in hope of bigger fish such as elusive Mulloway.
The Wallagaraugh Bridge located downstream had numerous pylons and the majority of my understanding on how this entity would work, beyond this held expanses of differential sand flats. Working small bladed lures and 65mm Squidgy Wrigglers in assorted colourations drew results; another great technique was twitching Ecogear SX 40’s whilst using their positive buoyancy over the shallows. The first morning saw countless Black Bream of legal dimension and my first and only major fish loss of the trip. Fishing light from the weekends previous ABT Tournamnet I managed to rub my 4lb Siglon FC leader while netting a significant Dusky Flathead estimated around 70cm.
On my way back for lunch I started fishing the extended bank lined snags before the bridge with my now shortened leader. Hoping to persuade an Estuary Perch I discovered a style of visual Kayak Fishing I really hope does not catch on too quickly (Insert possible horrendous tackle losses here). Certain snags were shared between prevalent species, terming the style ‘Suicide’ I would hold pattern over likely structure and sight fish to cast to. The school and I would exchange glances, acknowledge each others presence with a nod of the head and commence battle (Extracting some nice Bream in between bust offs). Tackle loss was minimal considering, a few 1/32 jig heads and half a dozen or so Gulp 2” Shrimp in the new penny colour.
Lost my only Estuary Perch for the trip on the drop at aforementioned tree, recent discussions with friends suggest not even a 12lb leader would have successfully divided and conquered in this terrain. If the wind had stayed low I would have pushed beyond the brackish and the pain barrier, perhaps encountering more. The Black Bream by catch could have increased ten fold, with additional Perch, Australian Bass (Who’s complaining?) and quite possibly smaller fish like Australian smelt, common Galaxias and a myriad of Gudgeon species.
The questions asked by faithful family members hit home painfully when I hit the shore, how many Flathead had I caught? It was plain as day they were after a feed and with the large amount of mouths to freed drooling at the prospect I shifted back to my original game plan. Disembarking once again I brought a band of merry men accompanying me on the Outfitter with dreams of hefty lizards. Moving back past the bridge to the susceptive sand bite it didn’t take long to tangle with my requested foe. Dredging the bank on the first drift saw my SX 40 taken with gusto, meanwhile my unattended Squidgy was belted on the super light outfit.
Quickly bringing in the Bream I had no choice but to back off the drag slightly and place the first rod in the holder complete with fish attached. Prizing the second rod from the holder I felt weight that obviously had no clue that it was hooked yet, one thing I was keen to do this time was play it out a little longer and keep it away from the kayak (The main reason I lost the first). Tackling Flathead on 4lb leader is something only fools set out to achieve, to give the fish a sporting chance it was once again hooked on my 1kg rod.
Running long and wide it took braid easily but tired of the incessant struggle and came to the net, no mistakes this time with bringing it onboard. Amid hoots and hollers I hit the shore for a look on the brag mat, once again over estimating its length through elation and excitement. I felt like a mother bird returning to its nest, I had to make a call regarding release (Fish was just over 70cm). The unwritten fishing law is if it’s over 65cm let it swim away (Most probably a breeder). With an flock of beaks to fill no doubt pecking me as I made my way up the ramp, I kept it on ice hoping for a couple of future smaller specimens.
The next day brought an early solo start into detachment and the ‘Furthest reaches’ downstream I had previously not explored. Like most coastline avenues, beating the wind before it hits water means covering as much ground as I could before 10am. This foreign sector had the hallmarks of what I was looking for, deeper drop offs and a snaggy foray or two. Unfortunately It proved fruitless so I ambled my way back early to attract the others and search for the Lizard Queen. The long weekend boating numbers were slowly taking their toll, as I made my way around the bend to my once secret K Boat base I was greeted with no less than three boats (All hovering over my GPS bread crumbs).
Just before I passed back under the bridge in disgust I was joined by my partner Claire, her sister Jillian and her daughter Ruby on the tandem Outfitter. Jillian had never caught a fish before or been on a Hobie so Claire built her up with confidence and a smelly Prawn or two. Turns out Jillian was a natural at Kayak Fishing and landed eight Bream in quick succession. Feeling chuffed someone else was enjoying our hybrid sport more than me I ended my weekend sojourn (My Victorian fishing licence was about to expire) on a high, spending the last few hours staring spitefully at the two 85cm Flathead carcases someone had left at the boat ramp. I found out later the bloody ’Furthest reaches’ I was rambling on about before held more than just fools gold!.
Conclusion:
To anyone doubting tackling the drive past Eden into Victoria I say go for it, sure these results can be achieved at your local quite easily but exploring new locations is just one of the many beauties Kayak Fishing has to offer. Road access is via a turn-off from the Princes Highway near the NSW border and there is boat access from Mallacoota Inlet or Gypsy Point (When not staying at the Wallagaragh River Retreat). The landscape and scenery changes, the prolific fish species shifts and best of all additional positive memories are created.
Genoa is a sleepy Victorian town consisting of various sand filtered rivers that extend below and around Mt. Imlay, down to the infamous waterway of Mallacoota. From various intel gathered, I deduced that some exciting fishing is still to be had before and beyond the bridge over the Wallagaraugh River. My Australia Day family long weekend getaways have previously consisted of trips to various destinations in between Canberra and Melbourne, with only one small proviso ever put in place (Must be Kayak Fishing heaven).
This time last year we explored the regional waters of Gypsy Point, Mallacoota and the Betka River but were slightly overwhelmed at the increased tourism. The search was on for another quality vacation, with Lakes Entrance being deemed too far and Bemm River being too remote for the kids. I was pleasantly surprised to find my future Brother in law had coordinated a River Retreat, located on the banks of the Wallagaraugh River. I knew it held Estuary Perch, Bream and Bass in its furthest reaches, what I did not realise at the time is what sort of haven it was for monster Flathead.
Travelling from Canberra via Cooma and the Monaro, our four hour journey into Mexican waters was pleasant enough, even if the missed Mt. Imlay turnoff might have shaved half an hour off travel time. Storms greeted us on arrival at the Wallagaraugh River Retreat and so did the Bream. I have commented once before on the successful breeding prowess of Bream in the area and here was no exception. Apart from patches of small Gar the sandy flat lays of the land provide excellent highways for the travelling fish, and open tide lanes for the ever present Cormorant. These family holidays are never short of spectacular; with two kayaks (Including a tandem Outfitter) and 11 adults I was never short of a fishing companion.
The sounds of schlepping at night were enough to encourage others to set their alarms without provoking, if they were not up when I was ready to go fishing I wasn’t going to be kept waiting.The Wallagaraugh River has seen better days, like its coastal brethren it’s becoming subdued with sand deposits. The spread out, snake like bends still held decent depth but certain stretchy sections bottomed out at the measly half a metre mark. In the River’s defence we were located a couple of km’s from any major tidal flow and with 16 hours of solid fishing over two days, the tide varied very little at all (So much so I couldn’t tell the difference). Still it contained positive potential and lacked only one thing, huge crowds of people.
The whole River Retreat scheme played out perfectly over the whole weekend, after managing to meet the Hobie fanatic owners I found out why (“Thanks for coming, don’t tell too many people!”). Camping a hundred metres from the waters edge was more than ideal, only a short trolley trip down to the facilities tired old boat ramp. My favourite way to fish saltwater river systems like this is to play the plastic chuck and chance, along with of course the hard body stroll and troll. After gauging the rivers depth and feeder creeks, I decided to deviate a little from my traditional sand stirring techniques and look for significant drop offs in hope of bigger fish such as elusive Mulloway.
The Wallagaraugh Bridge located downstream had numerous pylons and the majority of my understanding on how this entity would work, beyond this held expanses of differential sand flats. Working small bladed lures and 65mm Squidgy Wrigglers in assorted colourations drew results; another great technique was twitching Ecogear SX 40’s whilst using their positive buoyancy over the shallows. The first morning saw countless Black Bream of legal dimension and my first and only major fish loss of the trip. Fishing light from the weekends previous ABT Tournamnet I managed to rub my 4lb Siglon FC leader while netting a significant Dusky Flathead estimated around 70cm.
On my way back for lunch I started fishing the extended bank lined snags before the bridge with my now shortened leader. Hoping to persuade an Estuary Perch I discovered a style of visual Kayak Fishing I really hope does not catch on too quickly (Insert possible horrendous tackle losses here). Certain snags were shared between prevalent species, terming the style ‘Suicide’ I would hold pattern over likely structure and sight fish to cast to. The school and I would exchange glances, acknowledge each others presence with a nod of the head and commence battle (Extracting some nice Bream in between bust offs). Tackle loss was minimal considering, a few 1/32 jig heads and half a dozen or so Gulp 2” Shrimp in the new penny colour.
Lost my only Estuary Perch for the trip on the drop at aforementioned tree, recent discussions with friends suggest not even a 12lb leader would have successfully divided and conquered in this terrain. If the wind had stayed low I would have pushed beyond the brackish and the pain barrier, perhaps encountering more. The Black Bream by catch could have increased ten fold, with additional Perch, Australian Bass (Who’s complaining?) and quite possibly smaller fish like Australian smelt, common Galaxias and a myriad of Gudgeon species.
The questions asked by faithful family members hit home painfully when I hit the shore, how many Flathead had I caught? It was plain as day they were after a feed and with the large amount of mouths to freed drooling at the prospect I shifted back to my original game plan. Disembarking once again I brought a band of merry men accompanying me on the Outfitter with dreams of hefty lizards. Moving back past the bridge to the susceptive sand bite it didn’t take long to tangle with my requested foe. Dredging the bank on the first drift saw my SX 40 taken with gusto, meanwhile my unattended Squidgy was belted on the super light outfit.
Quickly bringing in the Bream I had no choice but to back off the drag slightly and place the first rod in the holder complete with fish attached. Prizing the second rod from the holder I felt weight that obviously had no clue that it was hooked yet, one thing I was keen to do this time was play it out a little longer and keep it away from the kayak (The main reason I lost the first). Tackling Flathead on 4lb leader is something only fools set out to achieve, to give the fish a sporting chance it was once again hooked on my 1kg rod.
Running long and wide it took braid easily but tired of the incessant struggle and came to the net, no mistakes this time with bringing it onboard. Amid hoots and hollers I hit the shore for a look on the brag mat, once again over estimating its length through elation and excitement. I felt like a mother bird returning to its nest, I had to make a call regarding release (Fish was just over 70cm). The unwritten fishing law is if it’s over 65cm let it swim away (Most probably a breeder). With an flock of beaks to fill no doubt pecking me as I made my way up the ramp, I kept it on ice hoping for a couple of future smaller specimens.
The next day brought an early solo start into detachment and the ‘Furthest reaches’ downstream I had previously not explored. Like most coastline avenues, beating the wind before it hits water means covering as much ground as I could before 10am. This foreign sector had the hallmarks of what I was looking for, deeper drop offs and a snaggy foray or two. Unfortunately It proved fruitless so I ambled my way back early to attract the others and search for the Lizard Queen. The long weekend boating numbers were slowly taking their toll, as I made my way around the bend to my once secret K Boat base I was greeted with no less than three boats (All hovering over my GPS bread crumbs).
Just before I passed back under the bridge in disgust I was joined by my partner Claire, her sister Jillian and her daughter Ruby on the tandem Outfitter. Jillian had never caught a fish before or been on a Hobie so Claire built her up with confidence and a smelly Prawn or two. Turns out Jillian was a natural at Kayak Fishing and landed eight Bream in quick succession. Feeling chuffed someone else was enjoying our hybrid sport more than me I ended my weekend sojourn (My Victorian fishing licence was about to expire) on a high, spending the last few hours staring spitefully at the two 85cm Flathead carcases someone had left at the boat ramp. I found out later the bloody ’Furthest reaches’ I was rambling on about before held more than just fools gold!.
Conclusion:
To anyone doubting tackling the drive past Eden into Victoria I say go for it, sure these results can be achieved at your local quite easily but exploring new locations is just one of the many beauties Kayak Fishing has to offer. Road access is via a turn-off from the Princes Highway near the NSW border and there is boat access from Mallacoota Inlet or Gypsy Point (When not staying at the Wallagaragh River Retreat). The landscape and scenery changes, the prolific fish species shifts and best of all additional positive memories are created.
Hobie / ABT Tournament - Sydney 17/1/09
Introduction :
The first inaugural Hobie / ABT Kayak Fishing series was held with great success at Bayview Park, Sydney on Saturday the 17th of January 2009. With less than ideal weather predicted I was more than pleasantly surprised to find the event car park quite full around an hour before competition began. The smiles on competitor’s faces faded off threats of contempt from the wind gods above; attendees knew the time had come to secure Kayak Fishing Tournaments in Australia a bright future… Rain, hail or shine!
Many people had become obsessive with the idea of etching themselves in tournament history, the range of skills shown from yak anglers pre fishing the competition showed that the Bream were there, but finding them may prove difficult. Whispers of spread out destinations that held fish threw a few off there game plan early (Including yours truly) but that was nothing compared to what the 30 knot gale precluded. The main objective was to obviously find the fish but avoiding the weather soon became our number one priority.
The various competitors were drawn from far and wide, seasoned societies with backgrounds in Kayak Fishing all the way down to individuals new to the sport. As a proud member of the Hobie State Fishing Team I was keen to do my bit, talking to people before the start and gauging opinions on what constituted a good tournament. I know at first concerns were raised over entry fees and live well capabilities but these seem to disappear once on the shore, anticipation was sky high with the stage well and truly set.
ABT run a great event, organising plethoras of individual tournaments every year. The rules and regulations were carefully explained to all participants with Steve from Hobie outlining his future plan to one and all. It was stated by Steve Morgan that to access wether a tournament was viable they required a minimum of 20 anglers to set a field. With over forty Kayak Fishing enthusiasts lined up for a shot gun start they indicated they were more than impressed, certainly many intense thoughts for years ahead.
The Tournament :
Friendly bantering began among handshakes and a head nod, the one thing a Kayak Fishing community does well is cohesion. Live wells were checked; safety devices noted and with friendships set to flourish the event began in earnest at bang on 6am. An excited crew manned the plastic fleet and literally took off under sail, destinations were shared freely and groups became acquainted with the situation. The Parramatta River is a heavily used waterway however the early signs were only an indication of the traffic to come.
With gaggles of entrants powering into the shallower basin the field became split, my destination was based on others predicted hot spots and my own agenda. The Cabarita Marina was my first port of call, working it solidly with soft plastics and bladed lures. Competitors shared elbow room and flogged it quickly before moving on, concentrating on its edges and structure. Watching another State member jostle perfectly for place was intriguing, Carl Dubois (Cid) has previous quality experience and so has his Hobie Sport.
The wind was deciding my future, pushing me across the bay in discomforting ways. Spotting a rowing club in the distance an outline of moored boats appeared including one or two ‘Scrubbers’. My Hobie Quest appeared to be the only one of its type to be paddled in the field’s entourage, with a weight capacity pushed to its limits I felt comfortable knowing it has been tested many times before and came out glowing. Holding position close to pylons and boats became easier as I relinquished the winds strengthening grip.The area was holding plenty of anglers with one or two securing fish by peppering offerings under the wharfs.
I joined QLD Hobie State member Paul O’leary throwing Gulp Sandworms and Shrimps in an area that pre fished well for him and others. As the students of the private mooring began their weekend routine I hooked up, signs immediately pointed to a species of the wrong dimension and sure enough the first of many undersized Flathead graced my deck for the day. Depth was something my presentation wanted to avoid; a slower sink rate on 1/32 ounce jig heads were required and in hindsight, perhaps even a hidden weight system.
Quickly switching lead I spied the eventual tournament winner hitting the moored boats close to my new destination. Without saying a word I tried to replicate his ideas a few boats beyond but became distracted and left the area when Scott Lovig (Victorian Hobie dealer and competitor) sounded in the distance around his previously successful arena.Traffic became slowly evident when the first of the big cat ferry’s trundled towards a terminal. Avoiding serious wake whilst following Paul towards Scott we hit said terminal and I pulled in my first Bream for the day. Measurement showed an undersized Bream was due to be released ( By only .5cm mind you ), I started cursing the fact I neglected to purchase an official ABT ruler considering I always had doubts in my yellow Juro rule.
With a few more taps drew lost rigs, swaying confidence (And then Scott moved in!).Whilst mentioning previously dialed scripts at this exact location he was promptly smoked by what could only be described as a ‘Money fish’. It didn’t take him long to get over a significant loss with a quick fish placed in the well. He shared thoughts and offered company across the river towards the d’Angelo Marina and on to another ferry terminal. Being the eager kind I moseyed on behind keeping an eye on the boat traffic, my body told me to return to closer, calmer waters but my head craved action.
The d’Angelo Marina looked promising but was still well and truly in the wind, only the larger moorings provided significant coverage to get a cast or two in. By this stage the waterway was in full swing, schoolyard scullery, pleasure craft, yachts and the ABT Skeeter boat with the tournament directors on board. Caught up with the two Steve’s who were checking on bragging rights, taking images and checking distances of entrants from the safety of the ramp (A professional touch, adding additional security to the event).
After chatting with the event sponsors I fished the terminal alone, last cast into a retreat saw some exploitation after the Ferry left the terminal. Two Bream in successive casts promised a bag limit but after once again measuring and coming up short, they were released unharmed. It was nearing the final two hours so figured I should paddle back towards the ramp and fish the flats behind the Tea Factory (Along with everyone else). Long, swirling paddles aren’t my cup of tea (Excuse the pun) and for once I dearly wished I owned an additional pedal craft, as others flew around me in relative ease.
The Cabarita Marina appeared as a haven compared to my initial touch of the place earlier this morning. Hugging in tight I allowed myself to cover the deck walks, pylons and drift into the nearby boats. In the middle of a flat I hooked my fourth Bream and smallest yet, dead sticking a Gulp 2” Shrimp into the gob of a 20cm beast. This was getting frustrated and clearly not my day, was I finally ruing the fact I didn’t stick to my researched game plan… An overcast day spells surface action but all fellow reports mentioned no luck.
Some people gave me a wide berth until I mentioned my tally for the day, then they were more than encouraging to help out. One such case I would like to mention is Stuart Dunn who kindly offered his top water drift location which immediately paid off. Whilst I only secured two small, undersized Bream on a Storm Hopper Popper I missed a cracker and was eventually moved on by the odour of the Tea Factroy, wafting across the small Bay. Feeling worse for wear and slightly crestfallen it was time to face my demons and beach.
By the time I returned nearly all competitors were back from the six hour outing, some suffering battle scars (Topping’s, broken Mirage drives from excess pressure etc) some pacing nervously and some whispering about some prime evil sized Bream. Sooner or later all keys were placed on the board and the weigh in could begin. This is the time as a participant I enjoyed the most, as apart from the comradery shown to each other it was a great time to put faces to names and an even better time to spy some outstanding fish.
Conclusion :
With the first fleet returned safe and sound, along with 27 successfully targeted species, the weigh in commenced in front of a stream of entrants, adoring supporters and inquisitive onlookers. The ABT wash and weigh tubs were stationed just up the slope from the beached yaks with the podium style hill used to project placement. Many moaned in the past of wasted money. It was a magnificent setting, honored with some great bags that easily eclipsed many weights from the previous days Bing Lee Australian Open final… That was a five fish limit and this mind you was only two, judging from the final Tournament results fish were weighed down to 18th place with the top 10 placements securing some quality prizes.
AKFF member and moderator Ken Raley rounded off the top 10, followed closely by the first of many two fish limits, NSW Hobie State Team member and 9th place getter Carl Dubois. Keiran Smith took out 8th with a respectable 1.1kg two fish bag, making way for Chris Byrne to receive 7th place and Greg Lewis 6th (Both receiving Okuma X Factor travel rods). The top five were separated by as little as a few grams, David Tinsdale (SBD to his mates) looked delighted with a 1.21 limit, $100 and Berkley Diablo rod.
Hobie dealer Scott Lovig’s efforts paid off with fourth place, a grand final berth, $100 cash prize and another Berkley Diablo rod giveaway. Stewart Dunn upped the ante by pocketing $150 and the last available Berkley Diablo, entering the top 3 places. Gary Cooke missed out on the ‘Big Bream’ award by minuet amounts, he knew second place was a brilliant result considering the depth and experience in the field and gladly accepted $250 for his effort.The man many had watched pepper boat hulls for hours swept the field easily, winning ‘Big Bream’ and the Hobie / ABT Bream Kayak Event Sydney round with a huge 2.12kg bag of bulging Bream.
Wayne Robinson’s prize included a grand final berth, free accommodation for the final event, $400 cash prize, $100 1.32kg ‘Big Bream’ cash prize and the joy of penning the opening paragraph of Australian Kayak Fishing Tournament history. Wayne explained to the crowd the years he had spent fishing the area out of his Perception Minnow, before recently upgrading to a new Hobie Sport / Live well combo. The lucky random prize draws rounded off an epic day, alongside Sailing Scenes BBQ bash and the Hobie free drinks. Praise was once again handed down from Hobie’s Steve Fields who was very impressed at the dedicated turnout.
The next instalment of the hugely successful Hobie / ABT series travels to the Mooloolah River, Queensland’s Sunshine Coast on February 22nd. For more details on remaining Hobie Kayak Tournaments for 2009 or any future and past ABT events please visit the following links:
http://hobiefishing.com.au, http://www.bream.com.au or http://www.fishingmonthly.com.au
The first inaugural Hobie / ABT Kayak Fishing series was held with great success at Bayview Park, Sydney on Saturday the 17th of January 2009. With less than ideal weather predicted I was more than pleasantly surprised to find the event car park quite full around an hour before competition began. The smiles on competitor’s faces faded off threats of contempt from the wind gods above; attendees knew the time had come to secure Kayak Fishing Tournaments in Australia a bright future… Rain, hail or shine!
Many people had become obsessive with the idea of etching themselves in tournament history, the range of skills shown from yak anglers pre fishing the competition showed that the Bream were there, but finding them may prove difficult. Whispers of spread out destinations that held fish threw a few off there game plan early (Including yours truly) but that was nothing compared to what the 30 knot gale precluded. The main objective was to obviously find the fish but avoiding the weather soon became our number one priority.
The various competitors were drawn from far and wide, seasoned societies with backgrounds in Kayak Fishing all the way down to individuals new to the sport. As a proud member of the Hobie State Fishing Team I was keen to do my bit, talking to people before the start and gauging opinions on what constituted a good tournament. I know at first concerns were raised over entry fees and live well capabilities but these seem to disappear once on the shore, anticipation was sky high with the stage well and truly set.
ABT run a great event, organising plethoras of individual tournaments every year. The rules and regulations were carefully explained to all participants with Steve from Hobie outlining his future plan to one and all. It was stated by Steve Morgan that to access wether a tournament was viable they required a minimum of 20 anglers to set a field. With over forty Kayak Fishing enthusiasts lined up for a shot gun start they indicated they were more than impressed, certainly many intense thoughts for years ahead.
The Tournament :
Friendly bantering began among handshakes and a head nod, the one thing a Kayak Fishing community does well is cohesion. Live wells were checked; safety devices noted and with friendships set to flourish the event began in earnest at bang on 6am. An excited crew manned the plastic fleet and literally took off under sail, destinations were shared freely and groups became acquainted with the situation. The Parramatta River is a heavily used waterway however the early signs were only an indication of the traffic to come.
With gaggles of entrants powering into the shallower basin the field became split, my destination was based on others predicted hot spots and my own agenda. The Cabarita Marina was my first port of call, working it solidly with soft plastics and bladed lures. Competitors shared elbow room and flogged it quickly before moving on, concentrating on its edges and structure. Watching another State member jostle perfectly for place was intriguing, Carl Dubois (Cid) has previous quality experience and so has his Hobie Sport.
The wind was deciding my future, pushing me across the bay in discomforting ways. Spotting a rowing club in the distance an outline of moored boats appeared including one or two ‘Scrubbers’. My Hobie Quest appeared to be the only one of its type to be paddled in the field’s entourage, with a weight capacity pushed to its limits I felt comfortable knowing it has been tested many times before and came out glowing. Holding position close to pylons and boats became easier as I relinquished the winds strengthening grip.The area was holding plenty of anglers with one or two securing fish by peppering offerings under the wharfs.
I joined QLD Hobie State member Paul O’leary throwing Gulp Sandworms and Shrimps in an area that pre fished well for him and others. As the students of the private mooring began their weekend routine I hooked up, signs immediately pointed to a species of the wrong dimension and sure enough the first of many undersized Flathead graced my deck for the day. Depth was something my presentation wanted to avoid; a slower sink rate on 1/32 ounce jig heads were required and in hindsight, perhaps even a hidden weight system.
Quickly switching lead I spied the eventual tournament winner hitting the moored boats close to my new destination. Without saying a word I tried to replicate his ideas a few boats beyond but became distracted and left the area when Scott Lovig (Victorian Hobie dealer and competitor) sounded in the distance around his previously successful arena.Traffic became slowly evident when the first of the big cat ferry’s trundled towards a terminal. Avoiding serious wake whilst following Paul towards Scott we hit said terminal and I pulled in my first Bream for the day. Measurement showed an undersized Bream was due to be released ( By only .5cm mind you ), I started cursing the fact I neglected to purchase an official ABT ruler considering I always had doubts in my yellow Juro rule.
With a few more taps drew lost rigs, swaying confidence (And then Scott moved in!).Whilst mentioning previously dialed scripts at this exact location he was promptly smoked by what could only be described as a ‘Money fish’. It didn’t take him long to get over a significant loss with a quick fish placed in the well. He shared thoughts and offered company across the river towards the d’Angelo Marina and on to another ferry terminal. Being the eager kind I moseyed on behind keeping an eye on the boat traffic, my body told me to return to closer, calmer waters but my head craved action.
The d’Angelo Marina looked promising but was still well and truly in the wind, only the larger moorings provided significant coverage to get a cast or two in. By this stage the waterway was in full swing, schoolyard scullery, pleasure craft, yachts and the ABT Skeeter boat with the tournament directors on board. Caught up with the two Steve’s who were checking on bragging rights, taking images and checking distances of entrants from the safety of the ramp (A professional touch, adding additional security to the event).
After chatting with the event sponsors I fished the terminal alone, last cast into a retreat saw some exploitation after the Ferry left the terminal. Two Bream in successive casts promised a bag limit but after once again measuring and coming up short, they were released unharmed. It was nearing the final two hours so figured I should paddle back towards the ramp and fish the flats behind the Tea Factory (Along with everyone else). Long, swirling paddles aren’t my cup of tea (Excuse the pun) and for once I dearly wished I owned an additional pedal craft, as others flew around me in relative ease.
The Cabarita Marina appeared as a haven compared to my initial touch of the place earlier this morning. Hugging in tight I allowed myself to cover the deck walks, pylons and drift into the nearby boats. In the middle of a flat I hooked my fourth Bream and smallest yet, dead sticking a Gulp 2” Shrimp into the gob of a 20cm beast. This was getting frustrated and clearly not my day, was I finally ruing the fact I didn’t stick to my researched game plan… An overcast day spells surface action but all fellow reports mentioned no luck.
Some people gave me a wide berth until I mentioned my tally for the day, then they were more than encouraging to help out. One such case I would like to mention is Stuart Dunn who kindly offered his top water drift location which immediately paid off. Whilst I only secured two small, undersized Bream on a Storm Hopper Popper I missed a cracker and was eventually moved on by the odour of the Tea Factroy, wafting across the small Bay. Feeling worse for wear and slightly crestfallen it was time to face my demons and beach.
By the time I returned nearly all competitors were back from the six hour outing, some suffering battle scars (Topping’s, broken Mirage drives from excess pressure etc) some pacing nervously and some whispering about some prime evil sized Bream. Sooner or later all keys were placed on the board and the weigh in could begin. This is the time as a participant I enjoyed the most, as apart from the comradery shown to each other it was a great time to put faces to names and an even better time to spy some outstanding fish.
Conclusion :
With the first fleet returned safe and sound, along with 27 successfully targeted species, the weigh in commenced in front of a stream of entrants, adoring supporters and inquisitive onlookers. The ABT wash and weigh tubs were stationed just up the slope from the beached yaks with the podium style hill used to project placement. Many moaned in the past of wasted money. It was a magnificent setting, honored with some great bags that easily eclipsed many weights from the previous days Bing Lee Australian Open final… That was a five fish limit and this mind you was only two, judging from the final Tournament results fish were weighed down to 18th place with the top 10 placements securing some quality prizes.
AKFF member and moderator Ken Raley rounded off the top 10, followed closely by the first of many two fish limits, NSW Hobie State Team member and 9th place getter Carl Dubois. Keiran Smith took out 8th with a respectable 1.1kg two fish bag, making way for Chris Byrne to receive 7th place and Greg Lewis 6th (Both receiving Okuma X Factor travel rods). The top five were separated by as little as a few grams, David Tinsdale (SBD to his mates) looked delighted with a 1.21 limit, $100 and Berkley Diablo rod.
Hobie dealer Scott Lovig’s efforts paid off with fourth place, a grand final berth, $100 cash prize and another Berkley Diablo rod giveaway. Stewart Dunn upped the ante by pocketing $150 and the last available Berkley Diablo, entering the top 3 places. Gary Cooke missed out on the ‘Big Bream’ award by minuet amounts, he knew second place was a brilliant result considering the depth and experience in the field and gladly accepted $250 for his effort.The man many had watched pepper boat hulls for hours swept the field easily, winning ‘Big Bream’ and the Hobie / ABT Bream Kayak Event Sydney round with a huge 2.12kg bag of bulging Bream.
Wayne Robinson’s prize included a grand final berth, free accommodation for the final event, $400 cash prize, $100 1.32kg ‘Big Bream’ cash prize and the joy of penning the opening paragraph of Australian Kayak Fishing Tournament history. Wayne explained to the crowd the years he had spent fishing the area out of his Perception Minnow, before recently upgrading to a new Hobie Sport / Live well combo. The lucky random prize draws rounded off an epic day, alongside Sailing Scenes BBQ bash and the Hobie free drinks. Praise was once again handed down from Hobie’s Steve Fields who was very impressed at the dedicated turnout.
The next instalment of the hugely successful Hobie / ABT series travels to the Mooloolah River, Queensland’s Sunshine Coast on February 22nd. For more details on remaining Hobie Kayak Tournaments for 2009 or any future and past ABT events please visit the following links:
http://hobiefishing.com.au, http://www.bream.com.au or http://www.fishingmonthly.com.au
Paddy's River Dam - Bago State Forest 20/12/08, 21/12/08
Introduction:
I had monumental plans for this years Christmas vacation, in previous years I have had some of the best holidaying and fishing adventures during the festive season. All plans fell through at the start of December so no Tasmania trip, no Barra in QLD and definitely no Mexican escape. I was due to hit the family paradise at some stage but opted to first explore beyond the Snowy Mountain region before venturing down the coast. The following is a short summary of destinations reached and passed, more recon work than anything else (Some truly amazing places sought and seen).
The main calling was to rekindle Claire’s childhood camping experiences, culminating in returning her to one of her family’s popular getaways; Nestled 30km in the middle of the Bago State Forest in between Tumbarumba and Batlow lays a pristine location named Paddy’s River Dam. Many of you will have heard of the falls and perhaps the river itself, judging by the top quality facilities, intrepid wildlife and lack of fellow campers I doubt this place gets visited much these days.Claire’s father relayed stories of wild Trout gone by (Beyond pan size), that statement alone was enough for me to unpack the car at lightning speed and set up the Outfitter ready for launch (All this after unpacking tents, collecting firewood and settling Claire).
First sights around 6pm were fish rising everywhere and Platypus galore; while Claire was preparing tea I snuck off solo on the Outfitter and packed a few shallow Min Min’s in spawning colours. With no sounder on board and light fading I wasn’t expecting much, mainly sussing out this location for an early morning attack.Unsure of what species where present I probed around, working lures slowly then working lures aggressively. During a passive aggressive moment I hooked up solid to a well marked 40cm Brown, landing this fish without a net proved particularly difficult (Browns like to churn the water silly). I had manage to go beyond pan size on my fifth cast, pity as I left the camera battery at home which was a good solid half day drive away. As Claire’s dad had requested photos I had already decided we were travelling back to Tumut the next day to purchase something to get us through.
Amazingly pink flesh for a fish that had been dieting strictly on stick caddis and some type of water beetle, we figured it had come up the river to spawn and stayed (Changing diets). The Brown tasted amazing on the coals and before the last light faded away I quickly spun Claire out for a gander. Through the smog I made out what I thought was a horse until quickly realising (Stamping feet, semi circles of death and snorting fire) it was a Brumby, kind of easy to tell as they are kind of testy at the best of times. We returned to camp, set up some bite alarms with Powerbait and called it a night, hoping camping less than 10m away from the Dam had its advantages.
The nights rest was a turbid one with a few loud snorts and some bangs outside the tent (No, not that), seems there was way more than just one lone Brumby around. The bait rods yielded no result till the afternoon when of all things a Brook Trout came to the bank, during the day the fish had been shutdown but the above event signalled the evening change. We discovered a small band camped on the other side of the Dam and said hello, they had been fishing on and off for two days from the bank for little return. After the initial ‘Is that a Hobie?’ conversations died down Claire and I went for a troll around an area she termed ‘Jesus Rock’ (Due apparently to a drunken night on the Canoe many years ago). Amid the Platypus Mecca we hooked and lost a dozen Rainbow Trout, three of those were of legal length and thus kept.
Nothing like exploring an old (Or new for me) place and keeping a few the table, within 24hours I had hooked and landed the wild Trout trifecta. The Brook Trout had what appeared to be a clipping on the top of its caudal fin, the Rainbows still had some roe but neither of them came close to the taste or the fight of that lonely, solo Brown.I was starting to really like this place but alas the following day we had planned to move onto Khancoban, rising early I checked the bait rods while sipping my waking Coffee before packing up all our gear and moving on. The gods must have known we were deserting the place as no sooner had I tightened the last strap that the wind picked up.
Blowing the car around I suggested a tourist detour via Three Mile Dam, Tooma Dam and the various pondages (Hoping to perhaps delay the inevitable). I was up for a bit of Fly Fishing but had to make sure the missus was happy with her surroundings, Three mile was too windy, Tumut Pondage looked scary and Tooma too remote. We hit the long road and delved into the area surrounding Khancoban, a place I had really high hopes for (You know, when you build something in your mind). Pretty disappointed with water level, facilities, 6 day processing of Credit Card at Service Station and shelter from wind. Made the decision to continue on, checking out the National Parks camp sites in hope of a camping miracle.
Today was a long day, 100km’s short of a ton we pulled in at Discovery Caravan Park in Jindabyne eager for some rest. After 4 days of camping with no real facilities we even booked a cabin (Shame, shame), aiming to hit Hatchery Bay and Curiosity Rocks if the weather held off. I could have cried when I awoke to showers and squalling conditions, I quickly abandoned all hopes of breaking out the yak and dragged Claire along to watch me Fly cast in the Thredbo before we headed home.
Conclusion:
Paddy’s River Dam is a general Trout dam and fishing is permitted year round, however it has a stated minimum Trout length of 25cm and a total bag limit of five (Bait fishing is also permitted). It is located within the Bago State Forest approximately 16km’s north east of Tumbarumba along the Hume and Hovell walking track. General 2wd vehicles will manage the road in quite well, although in wet conditions I would definitely recommend a 4wd vehicle only (Hazardous clay).Even though the weather turned foul, the three days prior were some of the most pristine and welcoming available.
The main Dams of Blowering and Talbingo were daunting compared to little Paddy’s River but as we were so isolated and at one with the bush size didn’t matter. Anyone who is in the area should definitely check out our old and new little gem, the camping grounds are excellent and the flora and fauna outstanding… Just do me one little favour please, keep it under your bloody hat!
I had monumental plans for this years Christmas vacation, in previous years I have had some of the best holidaying and fishing adventures during the festive season. All plans fell through at the start of December so no Tasmania trip, no Barra in QLD and definitely no Mexican escape. I was due to hit the family paradise at some stage but opted to first explore beyond the Snowy Mountain region before venturing down the coast. The following is a short summary of destinations reached and passed, more recon work than anything else (Some truly amazing places sought and seen).
The main calling was to rekindle Claire’s childhood camping experiences, culminating in returning her to one of her family’s popular getaways; Nestled 30km in the middle of the Bago State Forest in between Tumbarumba and Batlow lays a pristine location named Paddy’s River Dam. Many of you will have heard of the falls and perhaps the river itself, judging by the top quality facilities, intrepid wildlife and lack of fellow campers I doubt this place gets visited much these days.Claire’s father relayed stories of wild Trout gone by (Beyond pan size), that statement alone was enough for me to unpack the car at lightning speed and set up the Outfitter ready for launch (All this after unpacking tents, collecting firewood and settling Claire).
First sights around 6pm were fish rising everywhere and Platypus galore; while Claire was preparing tea I snuck off solo on the Outfitter and packed a few shallow Min Min’s in spawning colours. With no sounder on board and light fading I wasn’t expecting much, mainly sussing out this location for an early morning attack.Unsure of what species where present I probed around, working lures slowly then working lures aggressively. During a passive aggressive moment I hooked up solid to a well marked 40cm Brown, landing this fish without a net proved particularly difficult (Browns like to churn the water silly). I had manage to go beyond pan size on my fifth cast, pity as I left the camera battery at home which was a good solid half day drive away. As Claire’s dad had requested photos I had already decided we were travelling back to Tumut the next day to purchase something to get us through.
Amazingly pink flesh for a fish that had been dieting strictly on stick caddis and some type of water beetle, we figured it had come up the river to spawn and stayed (Changing diets). The Brown tasted amazing on the coals and before the last light faded away I quickly spun Claire out for a gander. Through the smog I made out what I thought was a horse until quickly realising (Stamping feet, semi circles of death and snorting fire) it was a Brumby, kind of easy to tell as they are kind of testy at the best of times. We returned to camp, set up some bite alarms with Powerbait and called it a night, hoping camping less than 10m away from the Dam had its advantages.
The nights rest was a turbid one with a few loud snorts and some bangs outside the tent (No, not that), seems there was way more than just one lone Brumby around. The bait rods yielded no result till the afternoon when of all things a Brook Trout came to the bank, during the day the fish had been shutdown but the above event signalled the evening change. We discovered a small band camped on the other side of the Dam and said hello, they had been fishing on and off for two days from the bank for little return. After the initial ‘Is that a Hobie?’ conversations died down Claire and I went for a troll around an area she termed ‘Jesus Rock’ (Due apparently to a drunken night on the Canoe many years ago). Amid the Platypus Mecca we hooked and lost a dozen Rainbow Trout, three of those were of legal length and thus kept.
Nothing like exploring an old (Or new for me) place and keeping a few the table, within 24hours I had hooked and landed the wild Trout trifecta. The Brook Trout had what appeared to be a clipping on the top of its caudal fin, the Rainbows still had some roe but neither of them came close to the taste or the fight of that lonely, solo Brown.I was starting to really like this place but alas the following day we had planned to move onto Khancoban, rising early I checked the bait rods while sipping my waking Coffee before packing up all our gear and moving on. The gods must have known we were deserting the place as no sooner had I tightened the last strap that the wind picked up.
Blowing the car around I suggested a tourist detour via Three Mile Dam, Tooma Dam and the various pondages (Hoping to perhaps delay the inevitable). I was up for a bit of Fly Fishing but had to make sure the missus was happy with her surroundings, Three mile was too windy, Tumut Pondage looked scary and Tooma too remote. We hit the long road and delved into the area surrounding Khancoban, a place I had really high hopes for (You know, when you build something in your mind). Pretty disappointed with water level, facilities, 6 day processing of Credit Card at Service Station and shelter from wind. Made the decision to continue on, checking out the National Parks camp sites in hope of a camping miracle.
Today was a long day, 100km’s short of a ton we pulled in at Discovery Caravan Park in Jindabyne eager for some rest. After 4 days of camping with no real facilities we even booked a cabin (Shame, shame), aiming to hit Hatchery Bay and Curiosity Rocks if the weather held off. I could have cried when I awoke to showers and squalling conditions, I quickly abandoned all hopes of breaking out the yak and dragged Claire along to watch me Fly cast in the Thredbo before we headed home.
Conclusion:
Paddy’s River Dam is a general Trout dam and fishing is permitted year round, however it has a stated minimum Trout length of 25cm and a total bag limit of five (Bait fishing is also permitted). It is located within the Bago State Forest approximately 16km’s north east of Tumbarumba along the Hume and Hovell walking track. General 2wd vehicles will manage the road in quite well, although in wet conditions I would definitely recommend a 4wd vehicle only (Hazardous clay).Even though the weather turned foul, the three days prior were some of the most pristine and welcoming available.
The main Dams of Blowering and Talbingo were daunting compared to little Paddy’s River but as we were so isolated and at one with the bush size didn’t matter. Anyone who is in the area should definitely check out our old and new little gem, the camping grounds are excellent and the flora and fauna outstanding… Just do me one little favour please, keep it under your bloody hat!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)