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Tuross would have to be my favourite destination for a fishing/family holiday on the South Coast for a few reasons. I have access to some great accommodation options close to the lake; secondly, some of my favourite areas to fish are equally close by to the launch site. And thirdly, contrary to most of my trips, I’ve actually fared better in the lake and feel comfortable in locating some great estuary fishing option and a feed.
Recent Tuross reports from sea wind and forbs (thanks for the chat forbs) had whet my appetite and I was fairly confident that I would enjoy some success on the water over the three days I was there.
Thursday morning I launched with a four hour window to explore my old haunts. The difference this time being that it was now tidal due to the recent lake opening after being closed for a few years. Immediately I noticed the difference as my first 3 spots produced nothing, I may as well have been fishing with a diseased choko on my line as I was getting as much love as a red headed step child. 2 hours in and I was a bit annoyed.
It's all good, I'm a good fisho, my Dad said so, so it must be true. Time to explore a little bit and find the infamous EP tree that Forbs forfeited three love children under. That didn’t happen, all good, I quickly got on my phone and brought up the ‘Patwah battles massive morwong’ photo to remind myself that I touched a fish once. It made me feel warm and cuddly, a good thing.
I reverted to the bloodworm wriggler which brought immediate success, a gill hooked legal whiting. Nice one, I much prefer to hook fish in the side of the head as it makes their mouths look purtier. With great confidence and a small round of self administered back slapping, I continued in my quest.
Next passengers on board were a brace of excitable 24-28cm bream, they really do fight hard for their size and I can see why Greg L sleeps with a stuffed one each night. That was quickly followed up by a good size Silver trevally who had a chat to Knifey Mcknife and made an appointment to view my digs back at the house. I then dropped a couple of flatties which continued my run of failing to land them yak side, I was up to 5 now (including my recent poor efforts at Nelligen).
Day 1 was over and I proudly took my small catch home to be devoured by the money burners. Proudly boasting that although it was tough, I managed a lot more fish than anyone else I saw that day. (In reality, the only other person I saw that day was an elderly man on his electric scooter with a half full colostomy bag drinking from an old Tang bottle)
Day 2 was going to better. I launched early again, forgot my camera, forgot my phone (no morwong inspiration), and forgot my dignity. However I did remember to bring a nice pair of Spotters that Paff had donated, now proudly adorned with a floating neck strap courtesy of the ABT membership pack.
I waded out with my yak and prepared to hop in as the local fizzy folk passed by. My left foot sunk 3 inches more than usually as I lifted my right foot to hop in, this created a balance issue which no amount of inner ear influence was going to overcome. It was like a young hippo collapsing into 12 inches of water, much splash and legs flailing as I buried my head in the muck. The passing fizzy had a laugh and asked if I enjoyed my swim, he wasn’t laughing when my unused sounder battery took out his left cheekbone . (didn’t happen but I thought about it)
It's all good, I’m a good yakker, my Dad said so, so it must be true.
I had a few more hours up my sleeve, so I continued up the river to do a little more exploring as I hadn’t got as far as I wanted to the previous day. The sun has come up quickly and I reached for my sunnies, not there. Maybe I dropped them? Bugger…launch…..left foot…..right foot…hippo…splash……floating lanyard……..tidal………….gone….
I started to fish an old oyster bed, that only had the posts remaining, and peppered the surface with a (must buy) lure that Squidder had put me onto a few weeks before. Apparently this lure was the bomb and he hadn’t seen them for a while, funnily enough it had the same emblem as the cheque he was depositing when I met him at the bank. Switching between the 'secret' lure and the wriggler, iI had a nice little session that produced a few bream up to 30cm and a few small whiting, again face hooked like creatures of the Camden Markets
I moved onto the flats to see if I could lose some more flatties to keep the streak going. None were forthcoming but I did manage to knock over a few flounder (undersize) and a few small bream on the flats. Bloodworm wriggler again was the successful applicant.(Groundhog) I managed to finish off with a nice flattie of around 45cm and break the streak. Day 2 was successful but not appetising enough. I trekked home and grabbed the family to see if we could get Lily (2 ½ yrs) her first fish.
While Mum was feeding little Patwah (?) on a rock, I cast out a peeled prawn into an area I knew held fish, tap tap, on and hand the rod to Lily. She looked at me and proceeded to discuss in detail what she was doing “I'm fishing with Daddy; I'm holding a rod, I wind like this and this and this and I'm holding a fishing rod and I can see a pelican and I like the water” so I quickly showed her how to wind and she managed (with some help) to land her first fish. Awesome.
I cast out again and she quickly grabbed the rod to show off her new found winding skills, within three winds another bream quickly grabbed the bait and gave her a rude little shock. I proudly watched as she wound and wound and wound (with commentary of course),. It got kind of weird then, as the fish came in she proceeded to step into the water, one foot raised, a steely glare……….then raised the rod like a spear and attempted to repeatedly impale the fish as it swam around her feet. The fish was duly beached with some verbal assistance. Amusing stuff and no doubt indicative of her future adult female behaviour.
Day 3 (last day):
I woke up at 6am to the sound of Lily coughing spluttering and dragging mucus from as low as her toes, not cool. To give Mum a rest, I got up and spent the next two hours watching ‘Tangled’ (a must see for Rapunzel fans) and put to bed any hopes of a fish before leaving for Canberra. Wife woke up and kicked me out the door with strict instruction to scratch the itch. After two minutes after standing there scratching my groin, she glared at me and told me she meant fishing not smelling my fingers. No invitation needed.!!
I headed straight for my new found flattie spot (near a red marker) and proceeded to cast into a great drop off I had located on the sounder. The next 60 or so minutes produced the best flattie fishing I have had in recent memory. Literally surrounded by the fizz fraternity (5 at last count within 60 metres) I managed to pull out 11 flatties between 40-63cm with each fish gave me curry. Having the Nitro Vapor doubled over with line screaming of my Luvias 1003 (sponsorship opportunities here) raised more eyebrows than a forum member disagreeing with Kraley. I commented to the Massive that (in my experience) Tuross flatties seem to pull a little harder than other places, I’m not sure why?
>Comments and questions were flowing freely between the boats and boats, and boats and myself as I was continually hooking up under the noses.
F1 “What are you using mate?”
P “Diseased Choko”
F2 “You’re on fire mate”
P “No Im not, it's an orange shirt”
F3 “Save some for us mate”
P “Smell my fingers”
F4 “get out of the way”
P “Check yo’self before I wreck yo’self”
It was a great little session and I had an absolute ball, I must add that the fizzy fanatics were well behaved and very appreciative of my efforts in the plastic tub. A nice way to wrap up the three days away.
“You're a great fisho and yakker mate”
“I know, my Dad told me so”
