Wags On The Water, Timiboy and Rob The Leper (he's not an Ausfisher, so there must be something wrong with him) headed out under angry skies to try their luck at some jigging offshore, Thursday. Moreton Bay was like a pancake, and the South Passage Bar was similar. Magic conditions, but the prospect of rain.
The mood aboard was sombre, knowing that this day hearts would be broken, shoulders would be smashed, and backs would be reduced to quivering messes of jelly. While all aboard were outwardly positive, the was an air of trepidation.
What will happen? Will we catch anything? Will it rain? Have we enough fuel? Does your chewing gum lose it's flavour on the bedpost over night? The answer to these, and many other mysteries, will be forthcoming. Read on, fellow fishing nut...
So, after picking up some livies close in, we shopped around for a while, and found a bit of a show. Over went the jigs, and the atmosphere was frantic. For about two minutes! Timiboy spat the chewy (no flavour, but it had NOT been on the bedpost overnight), and said - gripping his recently operated upon shoulder - "&^*$% this, I'm going to bottom bash" Rob wasn't too far behind, but just as all was beginning to quieten, Wags was on! He then proceeded to disobey boat rules - and hit the damned thing too hard! See a photo of his 100lb swivel below. Boat rule is feed it a bit while we clean up, and we'll go after him. We want to catch that damned sub, 'cause the Military just don't seem to care. Never mind...
Anyway, soon after, TB hauls up a nice Pearly. That whets the appetites a bit, and soon the paternosters and floating rigs are tumbling down, with the assistance of vast quantities of lead. And the fish are coming up, too (except poor old Wags, he couldn't catch a cold at first).
As the afternoon wore on, Wags did manage to catch a couple of things. My line twice, and Rob's once. What a mess! Poor old Wags was just not having a good day, but as the Skipper (me) was starting to look at his watch and gaze at the rapidly sinking Sun, Wags got on, and in fairly quick succession he managed to bring in two very nice Snapper, see photos - that's Wags with the hat and the Snapper.
I landed a very nice brace o' Pearlies (that's a double header to all the Neanderthals out there), and a pb Pearlie at 60cm, plus my pb Snapper at 60. Rob nabbed that 70 cm Pearlie in the pic, what a beast!
So all in all, as we dragged ourselves back over the bar at 5:30 pm, we'd had a ripper of a day. Many caught (many released too), enough coming home for a few feeds, and a completely exhausted crew.
It didn't rain, and we ONLY had 180 litres of fuel left (Wags was worried, made me jam the boat full of the stuff, we used about 120 litres) AND if you stick your chewy on the bedpost for safe keeping, I doubt you really worry about the flavour!
Until next time, Cheers,
Tim
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, I though we needed more fuel. 
YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MUCH FUEL TIM....
Rob's fish just circled on the way up and he tangled with me....
Originally Posted by TimiBoy
