Mozza
11-02-2008, 09:07 PM
Fellow Fishos,
I’d like to think that when it comes to catching barramundi, I’ve have improved to the point that I almost always return from a trip with 1 or 2 good barra in the esky. On this particular trip however, things took a turn for the worse.
Yep, courtesy of yours truly, I single-handedly ruined a couple of good chances for a barra and all Curmudgeon could do was watch on with mounting exasperation.
The day started normally enough with a 4 a.m. start and a tropical shower to boot. A couple of comments were made about fellow ausfishers too pansy-ish to brave the pre dawn downpour in recent posts. ;)
We trolled the breakwater up to the high tide at 7:30 for no barra and a number of small cod, three of which, were barely legal (released) before we dashed off to spot X. A 1 hour fishing session with livies resulted in what I swear was the same reefie being caught 3 or 4 times, I forget exactly. After that we began trolling a selection of hardbody lures. Things were pretty quiet with a couple of ‘cuda and the odd small GT hitting the deck before being given their freedom. Around 1:30 pm, the trusty old abu6500 went off. I yanked the rod out of the holder and my first reaction was ‘oh, it’s just another small ‘cuda’ but, then it really took off!! It turned out to be a fat, 60 cm salmon and the fight reminded me very much of a typical trout fight. After much yahooing, handshakes and back-slaps later, we settled down for a bit more trolling and casting.
With the turn of the tide approaching, I was running out of ideas. In a fit of desperation, I put in 2 extra lines so we had 4 lines out the back, 2 shallow and 2 deeper lures. Suddenly one of the deeper diving lures got hit but missed as the rod bounced in the rod holder then, seconds later, the shallow diver got smashed and line started peeling rapidly off the spool. I grabbed the rod and stood up yelling to Curmudgeon to sort out the mess of line behind the boat. I set the drag a touch heavier and could immediately tell that this was a big fish and my instincts were telling me this was a stonker barra. “Its gonna jump, its gonna jump!” I yelled as the line started to shallow out.
But I never got to see that jump because I had a brain explosion. With Curmudgeon yelling at me not to worry about the other lines, in a fit of utter stupidity, I tried to pass my rod over one of the other lines to make it easier for Curmudgeon to reel in the other rods. What was I thinking of! Line is screaming off my reel with what may be a P.B. on the end of the line and I start messing around with irrelevant issues. I’ve done this a dozen times on my own so the lessons have all been learnt: ‘Worry about the spider web of fishing line AFTER YOU BOAT THE FISH, YOU IDIOT!’ Better yet (I’m sure many of you would say), stick to one rod. Well to cut a sob story short, my braid wrapped around one of the guides on the other rod and SNAP! “Catch ya later P.B.”
I could have cried and I didn’t need to see the look on Curmudgeon’s face to know what he was thinking. Well, with that little saga over, everything else was going to be a bit of an anticlimax but we did hook a respectable barramundi that spat my lure out with distaste after it jumped clear of the water.
And that was that – the tide turned and the fish went off the bite. So, for 14 hours fishing, we had a one hour window of opportunity where the fish were biting, that was fun, but could have been memorable if Doug the dunce had used his noggin. Still, the salmon tasted great with a light beer/corn flour/flour batter and the potential P.B. is still out there somewhere and with a bit of luck, it’ll be Curmudgeon that nails it.
...Although I must say it's quite pleasant having Curmudgeon as a deckie since the fish seem to avoid his lines like the plague.;)
I’d like to think that when it comes to catching barramundi, I’ve have improved to the point that I almost always return from a trip with 1 or 2 good barra in the esky. On this particular trip however, things took a turn for the worse.
Yep, courtesy of yours truly, I single-handedly ruined a couple of good chances for a barra and all Curmudgeon could do was watch on with mounting exasperation.
The day started normally enough with a 4 a.m. start and a tropical shower to boot. A couple of comments were made about fellow ausfishers too pansy-ish to brave the pre dawn downpour in recent posts. ;)
We trolled the breakwater up to the high tide at 7:30 for no barra and a number of small cod, three of which, were barely legal (released) before we dashed off to spot X. A 1 hour fishing session with livies resulted in what I swear was the same reefie being caught 3 or 4 times, I forget exactly. After that we began trolling a selection of hardbody lures. Things were pretty quiet with a couple of ‘cuda and the odd small GT hitting the deck before being given their freedom. Around 1:30 pm, the trusty old abu6500 went off. I yanked the rod out of the holder and my first reaction was ‘oh, it’s just another small ‘cuda’ but, then it really took off!! It turned out to be a fat, 60 cm salmon and the fight reminded me very much of a typical trout fight. After much yahooing, handshakes and back-slaps later, we settled down for a bit more trolling and casting.
With the turn of the tide approaching, I was running out of ideas. In a fit of desperation, I put in 2 extra lines so we had 4 lines out the back, 2 shallow and 2 deeper lures. Suddenly one of the deeper diving lures got hit but missed as the rod bounced in the rod holder then, seconds later, the shallow diver got smashed and line started peeling rapidly off the spool. I grabbed the rod and stood up yelling to Curmudgeon to sort out the mess of line behind the boat. I set the drag a touch heavier and could immediately tell that this was a big fish and my instincts were telling me this was a stonker barra. “Its gonna jump, its gonna jump!” I yelled as the line started to shallow out.
But I never got to see that jump because I had a brain explosion. With Curmudgeon yelling at me not to worry about the other lines, in a fit of utter stupidity, I tried to pass my rod over one of the other lines to make it easier for Curmudgeon to reel in the other rods. What was I thinking of! Line is screaming off my reel with what may be a P.B. on the end of the line and I start messing around with irrelevant issues. I’ve done this a dozen times on my own so the lessons have all been learnt: ‘Worry about the spider web of fishing line AFTER YOU BOAT THE FISH, YOU IDIOT!’ Better yet (I’m sure many of you would say), stick to one rod. Well to cut a sob story short, my braid wrapped around one of the guides on the other rod and SNAP! “Catch ya later P.B.”
I could have cried and I didn’t need to see the look on Curmudgeon’s face to know what he was thinking. Well, with that little saga over, everything else was going to be a bit of an anticlimax but we did hook a respectable barramundi that spat my lure out with distaste after it jumped clear of the water.
And that was that – the tide turned and the fish went off the bite. So, for 14 hours fishing, we had a one hour window of opportunity where the fish were biting, that was fun, but could have been memorable if Doug the dunce had used his noggin. Still, the salmon tasted great with a light beer/corn flour/flour batter and the potential P.B. is still out there somewhere and with a bit of luck, it’ll be Curmudgeon that nails it.
...Although I must say it's quite pleasant having Curmudgeon as a deckie since the fish seem to avoid his lines like the plague.;)