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I love my Christmas holidays... Quality destinations visiting brave new worlds.
It’s really the only time I get off work all year, give or take the 52 weekends and public holidays. When they finally roll round every December I usually have a grand plan on where I want to go and how much ground I want to cover during the festive season. How I usually work it is I factor in some family visits, think of some new areas I have been begging to explore and work a big circle around the lower half of NSW. With some of Claire’s family residing in Victoria I had to come up with an iconic location that could be traipsed steadily and then left for dead. After all, Victoria is somewhere my 52 weekends fail to accommodate (Even with those magic public holiday Mondays), so it unfortunately wouldn’t be somewhere I would get to return to anytime soon.
Then it happened, the information appeared. Issue #99 of Freshwater Fishing had an article written on Lake Eildon, after reviewing whilst on the loo (No shame, no shame I say) it suddenly dawned on me that I would get to visit and pass through some of the most iconic freshwater rivers, streams and lakes in the whole of Victoria (Some say, the world). If the main stay was on the upper pondage shores of Eildon, the lake proper could be explored and a remaining trail could eventually be forged home (Encompassing Warragul, Lakes Entrance, Pambula and then home for Christmas).
With our appearances sorted and resulting accommodation booked the car was packed steadily and slowly. Six days away means quite a lot of gear (Mainly food, camping gear) but it packs down like Tetris with some patience. The first leg of the Journey was the longest of the trip, a solid six and a half hours straight to Eildon. Slightly longer than I am used to but with a driving partner to share the fatigue we did it fairly easily. On the way we shed a tear for Lake Mokoan as we spied its dry beds just before our turnoff. It’s a shame that the Bracks Government did not contribute more positively to the area, the cause escapes my brief passing but the memory remains.
Passing over the mighty Goulburn, Rubicon and Acheron rivers was like stepping back in time (Let alone what it was like driving into Bonnie Doon). Snobs Creek came and went (With a visit to the Freshwater Discovery centre slated later) and we slipped into quiet little Eildon for the evening. Staying on the banks of the upper pondage in the Eildon Caravan Park we found ourselves almost alone. I could have counted the amount of cars in the whole park, even after numerous bottles of Jack Daniels (The drink of choice). As we checked in I spied the local fishing club weigh in scales and as I checked out the hall of fame a smug cry and cheer came from the reception desk.
In walked a proud as punch nine year old carrying a hefty fish with a disappointed father figure trailing behind. The boy was greeted at the scales by the proprietor’s wife, who then placed the lads trophy fish on the old fashioned lie detector. “6lbs dear, what did you catch that on” enquired the lady, “I used me Dads Tassie Devil!” the boy larked loudly. That was enough motivation for me; I couldn’t get to our campground fast enough. The small hurdle of setting up our tent, tables, chairs and bedding but this was just a formality to my initial fishing foray. Before daylight ended we tried our luck with floated Scrub Worms, Orange Powerbait and various lures (With no success whatsoever).
The campsite was glorious, seriously couldn’t wish for a better site. The only downer was it was situated opposite what was known as the ‘Mudeye’ pond, a slight deviation in the upper pondage which offered shallow creek like conditions. When I woke early the next morning my breakfast almost left my throat, right in front of me (No less than 1m from the bank) were three bully size Trout slinking past and out of view. I spent a good hour throwing plastics and float rigging the pond with not so much as a follow. I couldn’t spend my time chasing fish that didn’t want to be caught so we left for brighter opportunities, Lake Eildon’s Fraser boat ramp and a trip on the Outfitter toward the Delitite arm.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, our Caravan Park was desolate of company and the rods in and out of Eildon were deserted (Apart from the local population). However, after enjoying the short drive to the Fraser boat ramp we found we were definitely not alone. Numerous power and speed boats were trailing passengers all over the place, everywhere except close to and in the dead timber lines. These dead limbs and trunks were a godsend and the main features of the lake I wanted to fish. Launching the kayak was easy as the low water levels allowed for bank side car parking, I knew Claire was up to floating bait but could this area be trolled with some sort of kamikaze success?
With the lake holding at around 30% capacity some of the dirt ledges drew immense shadows, these trees that looked so promising would have been completely underwater (Even at a 60% faculty) and it showed with many of the highest limbs sporting trophies (Sinkers, swivels, hooks and lures). Sticking as close to our contingency plan as possible (Avoid boats at all costs) we cast bubble floats laden with suspended Scrub Worms close to stumps. Reflecting offerings towards the bank it was almost an immediately rewarding experience. A native of some suggest (Guessing Golden by the profile) actually swam with the line after pecking ceremoniously for a second. I struck slowly but felt no weight, it was enough to put me off and concentrate on what we do best (Trolling).
Out of all manner of vessels on the water in the Fraser arm we seemed to be the only ones fishing, or attempting to fish. A short dash to the northern bank uncovered a very productive trolling section, allowing us to dart in and out of trees and slander small bays. I knew there was Trout in these waters but I had come secretly for the native population. Lure offerings paralleled my normal home base selection, small to medium fatty crank baits with Japanese and American flair (Jackal Chubby, Storm Wiggle Wart). At the beginning of our run Claire subdued two small Rainbow Trout using a ‘Suji Shrimp’ pattern Chubby, that’s just before I lost our first big fish of the trip. Even three weeks later I’m still calling it for a monster Cod (No matter what the end conclusion) but due to an impromptu hook pull we all will never know.
We trolled around the point separating the arm from the basin and found a small patch of Redfin with no size separating the school. We also came across copious towering, three levels house boats tethered to the banks. With time getting away from us our smartest move was to mingle around where we found the fish earlier, with so many vessels making noise we really shouldn’t have left the fish in the first place. This is where things started to get really interesting; Claire landed and dispatched four Carp in as many minutes. The ‘Suji Shrimp’ patterned Chubby had never seen so much action, even my ‘Ayu’ Chubby was getting ignored. Apart from the size of the lure we figured they were actually consuming via a cannibalistic instinct (One of us, one of us mentality).
Travelling in closer to the banks allowed us to study what baitfish or crustaceans were around, giving us a prevalent insight into better lure pattern choice. Wasn’t a great deal around apart from hordes of what I assume were Carp, getting attacked by smaller schools of tiny Redfin fry. These in turn were getting shadowed by gold fish sized Carp with the occasional flash of larger specimens. The water was quite clear so spying schooling Carp through the various columns of timber and weed was something I hadn’t experienced before, we often see the tell tale signs but this time seeing really was believing. With the above information in mind we left Claries lure attached but changed mine to something brighter with shiny characteristics. A brand new, old school U.S Storm Wiggle Wart in a chrome magnum finish served me well, tempting plenty of fish.
These lures cast like a dream so covering ground was easy, no need to troll when 50m casts in every direction are possible. Holding stationary near the trees we plugged away, depth was gauged by amount of weed upon the lures return. The Trout were exactly where we found them prior to moving, schooling hard and averaging around 30cm. At one stage it was a Trout a cast for five or more consecutives, even smacking lazy lures returned almost plumb to the top guide. I waged a war on pests this day, with Trout barely outnumbering the Europeans (5 Carp to 7 Rainbow Trout). It took a lot of casting and gusto to out fish Claire (4 Carp to 4 Rainbow Trout), the Outfitter’s front really contains the proverbial ‘Hot seat’.
We could have stayed here all day but with the hot weather increasing (2pm sun high) and a trip to the Snobs Creek Hatchery on the cards (Closing time 4pm) we departed what felt like an epic meeting. It’s a hard call to make, leaving an area to forge a path to a new one when the fishing is so hot. No natives to quench my thirst but hand over fist fishing action, something I will never speak poorly about and absolutely relish with quality angling company (Claire is no slouch, believe me).
The fabled hatchery at Snobs Creek is bathed in folklore; it’s the Mecca of Aussie freshwater saviours.
Steeped in rich and strong history it has provided science for all, not to mention thousands of fingerlings and fry. Even its ex-brood stock populates various ‘Premier’ lakes throughout Victoria (Subject to classification). The site at Snobs Creek also houses the Freshwater Discovery Centre which feature touch pools and feeding ponds (As well as vital information on species and sin). As we were travelling ahead of the holiday season we were in fact the only visitors during the afternoon period.
I was pleasantly surprised at the availability of information to the general public, it’s taken me years to dredge up anything that parallels this via books, magazines and the world wide web (Apart from the freedom of information available on the Murray Darling Basin). The highlight of the visit (Apart from having run of the place) was definitely the feeding pool. Housing brood and ‘Premier’ Rainbow, Brown Trout and Chinook Salmon the fish ranged in size from gregarious to above average. The pellets we received upon entry were chock a block full of hormones and other growth / conditioning stimulants and the fish were of immense size and fed with such rage. Salmonoids as large as 16lb inhabit the pond and were often too slow at attempting to scoff a pellet. However, with loads of fish frothing the water below the feeding platform you could pick and choose who got a taste (Everyone consumed a pellet, eventually).
I was left slightly disappointed when I realised that the Discovery Centre was treated as separate to the actual hatchery itself, meaning the purpose of the visit purpose of the visit (Supporting Native fish cultivation and properties) was, from a personal level, unachievable. As we departed the centre I couldn’t help but feel educated, probably had something to do with noticing the entrance fee sign on our way out (Was reasonable enough, didn’t hesitate). In the end it was due to the effort that foundations like Future Fish, AFN, and the Victorian governments (In the past anyway) like Recfish. It was impressive to say the least and seems to put many of our NSW facilities to shame. I just seemed to want to shoot parallels across the border back towards home, comparing these greener pastures to the drought like conditions and manageable water issues in NSW (Re; Murrumbidgee, Lachlan, Snowy etc). Anyway, I sincerely digress...
Returning for a lazy afternoon on the banks of Eildon Caravan Park and a relaxing evening under the stars I began to twitch. The water level of the ‘Mudeye’ pond was considerably lower than the previous afternoon and the upper pondage water level began to drop. One of the best tips I received prior to our visit was to fish the lower pondage as the water recedes. Claire was just as keen as I to secure a feed to take to her sister’s house (The following days destination) so rest, relaxation and dinner could wait. Just down the road from the park lies the pondage tailrace and the township bridge, a popular angling destination (Based on the discarded line and sacrificial lure offerings made to the ‘Powerline’ gods).
The area near the oval offered steeper banks and deep water but with only one undersize fish over an hour (A striking small par marked Bow) we decided to move on. Packing up we ventured beyond the town to the lower pondage breadth. The area had a familiar vibe to it and features Rex Hunt’s Future fish foundation jetties and fishing platforms. Just as I finished tying the second rig and presenting it past the waters the first artificial placement went off (Indicated by the noisy Chinese bite alarm). Succumbing to the infamous ‘Orange Twist Powerbait’ a 40cm male bow was a welcome addition to our trips plan. A couple fishing 50m away seemed bemused at their fruitless effort (As we had just arrived) until they landed a behemoth of a fish (Beyond ‘Premier status anyway).
A search of the water cycling Powerbait colours failed to locate another so both hooks donned the navel flame. In shallow dropping water I have found the ‘Jindy’ rig fairs best (Taught to me by Jason and Craig). A small number six size hook with a 50cm leader, split shot crimped above leader connection (Assuming braid is used) and a running ball sinker (Small as possible) is all that is required. Some fish will pick up the rig and run with it but the beauty of the rig rests in its ability to find hook set automatically (At least seven times out of ten).
Its champagne fishing at its best (bring the dip, cheese and crackers), fishing light is the key and Claire found the benefit of a slow tapered rod when she landed the second fish via a short leash and a heartbeat flutter. A 55cm female Rainbow Trout flopped around on the pondage bank, while not the biggest Trout we have caught they were definitely up there with the most satisfying. Securing our bag limit (Only two fish over 35cm) we returned to camp humbled by the entire days fishing and our efforts. The moon rose on our final days visit and as the sun dipped behind the Dam wall I reflected on the year past. Trials and tribulations, lefts and rights all seemed to end here, now. With fate dealing a mixed hand in 2009, Claire and I were happy to contribute towards a positive outlook to December’s culminationend. With Warragul, our next destination (Claire’s family), followed by Pambula, NSW (My family) via Lakes Entrance, could our visit to Eildon really be topped?
The answer (Via my January 2010 reflection) was no, not on this trip anyway. Perhaps I had planned our trip like some sort of headlining disc jockey, climaxing destinations and attempting to floor fill with the remanding avenues. If it wasn’t for Christmas I could have stayed the entire holiday break, such is the influence of Eildon’s charm...
