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Koich and I hatched a plan to visit the south Coast of NSW and witness the opening of the long closed Durras Lake. A happy hunting ground for the Massive, the news that the council had made the call was met with much excitement. Not only will the lake get a good clean out, but it will also provide an opportunity for the resident estuarine species to get a well needed taste of freedom, and maybe a little bit of the good stuff, pure saltwater.
With the forecast showing 35knts winds and the mercury well below what is deemed comfortable in any mans language, we decided to head off at gentleman’s hours, no kayaks, just old school beach fishing and rubber necking. Koich insisted hat he had to wear his red sweathog hoodie, I told him that they don’t exist anymore. I haven’t seen a sweathog hoodie for years, he reckons they do exist and they’re the business. I told him to belt up and stop being such a prat, red sweathog hoodie, my arse.
Man talk right there.
Koich picked me up and he’d gone for the Green Irish ‘Where’s Wally’ look for the day. If it ended up being a slow day, at least I had time to search for him amongst the backdrop of Durras Lake, looking back at the foliage surrounding North Durras Township. On arrival, there were many peeps watching as the excavator slowly created a channel that would open the lake up to the sea and bring on the fishing that we’d discussed in the car. We’d hoped to meet up with Craig450 but he was still at work.
In the car, Man Talk had predicted that we’d probably catch salmon, tailor, jewies and kingfish, not one or two but probably 500… each. We were hoping to leave blood on the beaches and have a pile of fish that wouldn’t be out of place with “down on the haunches, terry-towelling hats and King Gee stubbies” poses all round. Found him, next to the tree, standing behind the green shrub. First “Where’s Koich” for the day.
The wind was ripping through and with sand was ripping into our backs that would have made a Bedouin proud, we commenced the bloodbath. Koich kept mumbling about his sweathog hoodie, “wouldn’t be cold if I had the hoodie”. I’m just thinking he’s a .... sook (Man talk), get over the hoodie dude.
Tying on my lure, I glance up and saw Koich (“Where’s Koich” no 2 for the day). First cast for the day and he’s on, a nice salmon on his bream gear, nice fish, well played sir. The salmon was subsequently photographed, de-hooked and released.I quickly threw my metal into the wash and was rewarded with a similar size salmon, game on! A slightly different species for me, Id heard about, but had never captured the Durras beach battered salmon, a new PB for me.
My next two casts also produced similar sized fish, 3 battered salmon in 3, probably the greatest fisherman Durras beach had ever seen. Sand Dune fist pump! Koich was at the waters edge at this stage washing some blood of his ands, upset once again, he couldn’t wipe the blood on his red sweathog hoodie; blood and green just don’t go. Suck it up Bitch (man talk).
In the first 30 minutes or so we’d landed 7 good sized salmon so the choice tho make the trip was a good one.We paused to head down to the opening to see how the excavator was going, “Where’s Koich” became to easy. His Green Where’s Wally” stood out prouder than a honeymooner’s todger and that put paid to my game. The hoodie issue remained and to be honest I think it affected his A game today.
As we watched the excavator dig out the remaining barrier of sand (no Craig450 yet), I watched Grandma and Grandpa Silly (holding small child) standing in the middle of the man made channel closest to the beach, camera in hand waiting to capture the moment as the water broke through I too was waiting to capture the moment, camera firmly pointed at them. Alas the first water was a trickle, with a gradual build up to a small river, Gma and Gpa Silly made it safely onto the beach away from my camera glare.
Within an hour it was a raging torrent and the lake was emptying quicker than Gra’s seed pod on the waters of Wivenhoe.
Found him (No 7)
Fisheries paid us a visit, which was good to see, I didn’t have my licence which was going to cost me 75 squid if I couldn’t produce. A quick mms of my licence from home and I was back in the good books of Inspector Plod. Lovely fellow and quite generous with his information about all things ‘Fishing Sth Coast’.
Craig450 eventually showed...
The winds picked up, it got colder, the sand blew harder and the fishing died a sorrowful death. Unlike Tuross last year when it opened and the fishing was spectacular for the hundreds that got down there, Durras left us cold, windswept and lonely, we were the last two souls left on the beach...
