Subject: fishing today -- 14nov09
Date: Saturday, 14 November 2009 4:06 PM
. dolphins . cobia . pearl perch . cobia again . new camera .
What a magnificent morning. Jaro and I agreed the afternoon before to meet at MG carpark at around 0430. When I arose at 0400 there wasn't the faintest zephyr and a quick check of Seabreeze confirmed that we'd cracked a great day. I swung the Sierra into the carpark at about 0425 and found I had the place all to myself except for a familiar early model Subaru station wagon -- Ian Tagg's. Ian had mentioned that he would probably be going this morning so I walked over to the car and placed my hand on the bonnet, which was still warm, but not very. Clearly Ian had launched in the dark at least an hour earlier. Within a couple of minutes Jaro's Subaru arrived so all was going to plan.
My main mission today was to take along a new very capable camera contained in a quite bulky waterproof case and to find out what problems were incurred in doing so. Of course, I also needed to practice taking great photos with it so I'd already briefed Jaro and Ian that they were likely to end up as subjects, hopefully accompanied by big fish. Little did I know that they were to take me a little too literally.
0440hrs. Launch time. First operational pic taken with new camera. If you examine the lower left part of the image you'll see Ian's trolley tyre tracks from his early morning launch. (Note that this and other images taken with the new camera have been reduced in size and quality for email purposes.)
Ian later told me that when he launched there was a couple engaged in making the beast with two backs nearby on the sand. His arrival didn't phase them, however -- I wonder if they even noticed.
Jaro and I launched simultaneously, there being no waves to force us to exit the channel in single file, well spaced as we usually need to. In view of my professed need to practice taking high quality kayak fishing photos Jaro kindly agreed to wait until I was set up so that we could travel together. Usually, these Profish days, Jaro is off like a startled gazelle, having minimal setup delays. Anyway, before long we were off, around 0500 I think, destination Sunshine Reef.
Pretty soon we were making good speed past Tea Tree and into Granite Bay. As has happened to me before here, a pod of dolphins made their presence obvious by leaping and cavorting a couple of hundred metres away to the NW. They appeared to be heading toward us, on an interception course, as they've done for me before, so I readied chest cam and kept paddling. Sure enough, pretty soon they were swimming along with us in the small seas as the sun rose. Jaro and I were travelling side-by-side a few metres apart and on several occasions a dolphin came up for a breath right between us, travelling along at our speed. The chest cam was running and I was fortunate enough to record one of these events, just forward of Jaro and me.
0527hrs. Dolphin companion, Granite Bay. (Still from chestcam video)
As Jaro said, one never tires of the antics of wild dolphins at close quarters. Shortly we were paddling past Hells Gates, where a trio of land based fishos watched us (enviously?) as we cruised past. Just at this point I spied a few terns fluttering and diving inside Alexandria Bay and I called out to Jaro and pointed to draw his attention to them. As he looked across he also could view peripherally his trolling rod which was mounted behind him, and this rod then took a strike which really got Jaro's attention. The encounter was finalised very quickly however as it became apparent that he'd been bitten off, despite using wire.
We now emerged to the open ocean and I switched my GPS to now direct us to my close-in mark, which we'd agreed we'd try first, hoping that the sharks which were present in large numbers on Thursday had gone. With 1.3km to go I spotted a dot on the horizon and speculated to Jaro that this might be Ian, whose large and highly visible straw hat is his trademark, so to speak.
And so it proved to be. As we got closer we could see that Ian was happily drifting along, located almost exactly on our intended mark. The first question we both asked on arrival was "Any sharks, mate?". To our relief Ian told us that he'd caught no sharks and not much else, although he did have a reasonable snapper, caught on a SP (I think?) just after the sun cleared the horizon. And so we settled down to fish. As earlier mentioned, my main mission on this trip was to familiarise myself with the complications of carrying and using, on a kayak in the open ocean, a quite bulky encased camera. As anyone who owns a yak will tell you, in a yak there isn't a lot of space in which to put stuff down, especially as the essentials such as fishing equipment in all its various forms takes priority. So for a while I shuffled the boxed Canon around trying to find the ideal location amongst my legs, depth sounder and other necessary but awkward obstructions. I was pleased that I could store the camera in my hatch, but I wasn't happy to leave it there while fishing as at any moment the need might arise to record that great image which will never be seen again. I settled for leaving it in the footwell, sloshing around in the water which accumulates there. I've already identified a better storage solution but its implementation will take a little time and effort, and as always on a working and evolving yak, some built on modifications.
Pretty soon, Ian hooked up. In anticipation of getting the shot of a lifetime, I retrieved my gear and paddled the short distance to his yak only to find that he'd hooked a stingray! on a soft plastic! at Sunshine Reef! He was understandably dubious about taking up my suggestion that he boat it and cradle it in his lap so that I could take a real, operational, yak fishing photo. Seeing that his enthusaism was lacking, I left him to the task of releasing it without getting barbed, unlike our recently departed mate, Steve.
0626hrs. Ian wonders what to do about the stingray.
Jaro, fishless at this stage, announced that he was heading out wide and as I'd earlier agreed that I'd follow him around, for my main aim today was photography, not fishing, I went along also. Ian opted to come along as well, especially as he could thereby copy our marks, which, incidentally, we don't mind in the least, Ian. Some 600m east we pulled up again. Jaro's chosen spot. I popped the drogue, got the camera ready and cast my SP downwind and down drift (breeze from NE, no apparent current). As the jighead swung to directly under the yak, 30 metres down, I hooked up. This fish turned out to be a maori cod, larger than the usual specimens out here, but still undersize at 43cm (legal size 45cm).
0708hrs. Maori cod. Legal size 45cm.
Back he went, except that his swim bladder was "blown" and he couldn't swim back to his home 30m below. Who best to consult in such circumstances? A veterinary surgeon, of course. I brought the cod back into my yak and paddled over to the nearest Vet, Jaro, who performed a cursory examination, pulled out his sharp tipped knife and punctured the air bladder in the stomach area. A little gentle massaging resulted in a much slimmer cod which then, on return to the water, succeeded in his quest for home. It's handy to have a Vet among Noosa Yakkers, and we have three of them!
Jaro (still fishless) moved again. I followed, camera at the ready. First cast at the new chosen spot I caught a small snapper, probably just legal size, and released it. "Come on Jaro, catch something", I called out. No response. After quite some time during which I caught a highly acrobatic grinner, we moved again. By now Ian had decided to stay in one of our spots but we could see him about 400m away, his hat prominent. I should mention at this juncture that Ian is not VHF equipped so we have no means of consulting him, nor he us, other than by phone and yelling. A pity, really, in view of the events of the next hour or so, which Jaro and I passed fishlessly.
It was almost 0900hrs. I glanced up from fiddling with my so-far underused expensive new camera to see Ian paddling up to us. He came within speaking distance of Jaro first and announced casually that he'd done alright "back there" and thought I might be interested in taking a pic of a reasonable cobia he'd just boated, explaining that he'd been trying unsuccessfully to attract our attention by waving his paddle. What a nice guy! He then pulled the wet towel off a very nice cobia.
0904hrs. Ian "Tiger" Tagg with his cobia caught on a prawn -- a prawn! But a big prawn, I hasten to add.
Now this was a fish worthy of the new camera. Ian generously gave of his time to allow me to practice my photography techniques and while I'm clicking away doing this he's telling me about the two nice pearl perch he'd also bagged (his first ever) plus a sweetlip. And he removed his beloved straw hat for the photos. Thanks mate.
Ian then opted to stay with us as he has no electronic fish finder (but clearly has a built-in fish attractor) and as Jaro was saying that there were fish hanging around on a particular part of the drift, as revealed by his fish finder. So we fished on without further action until around 0945 when Ian decided to head back in, possibly he couldn't fit any more fish in the yak anyway. His yak, now much lower in the water than when it came out here five hours earlier, gradually disappeared in the direction of Main Beach.
So it was 0945. I was without take-home fish and Jaro hadn't had a hookup at all, though he'd lost a few pilchard baits, likely nibbled away by pickers. Jaro announced that he was leaving at 10am. I agreed. At 0955 I started packing up and Jaro called for a last cast. He then decided to retrieve his pilchard bait rig... Pow!
I was in ready to shoot mode so hung about a few metres away while Jaro sequentially announced that the fish "has a fair bit of weight but isn't putting up much of a fight", then "it's putting up a bit of a fight (possibly a shark)", then, "Holy Shit it's really taking off" as line crackled from the spool of his reel and his rod tip pointed toward the ocean floor. A few runs like this with appropriate retrievals by Jaro brought the fish into view in the clear ocean water. "Cobia" I said. Jaro's never caught a cobia before so understandably the excitement was palpable.
Several gaff attempts were necessary as the fish, having been fought on pretty heavy line, was still not exhausted when Jaro was ready to gaff. Once the cobia was under control I moved in with the camera and started shooting again. As with Ian, I received great cooperation from Jaro as we experimented with different camera angles as the two yaks bobbed up and down and rocked crazily from side to side while all the time I'm trying to ensure that the shade is not compromising the picture, that the whole of the subject is in the frame, etc etc. Eventually after what seemed like half an hour of fiddling around but was in reality no more than a few minutes, I had the shots I wanted. Here's one of them, and they're nearly all pretty good, thanks to the incredible capabilities of the Canon Powershot G11.
1010hrs. Jaro with his first cobia. I was very pleased to be able to capture the moment. Another pic later...
And so we set off home, Jaro still pumped up over the capture, even as we hit the beach a just under a non-stop hour later, a little wind-assistance here.
Jaro's cobia -- 98cm, but probably 1 metre if straightened out.
At Main Beach.
Thanks for helping me out guys. I reckon I've now got a few pics to start my high quality collection.
Tomorrow, Jaro?
Kev
Red & Yellow Espri, black paddle
VHF channel 09 or 22 (if alone), Call Sign: sunshiner
http://noosayakers.blogspot.com
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