Noosa Yakkers Trip Reports: smashed, with video, 09Feb09

From: "kevin long"
Subject: kayak fishing today -- 09Feb09
Date: Monday, 9 February 2009 3:33 PM

Emails from Jaro and me over several days had warned the Noosa yakking fraternity several days ahead that the offshore fishing weather was looking good for today. After two weeks of strong easterly wind and big swells we were badly overdue for a break. Just to make sure that I was as fully aware as possible of the likely wave situation I spent and hour or so on Main Beach yesterday afternoon and saw nothing that gave me cause for lasting concern.

The starting lineup was (oldest first) Jaro, me, Jim, Steve, Andy, Brian (madcow). Jim and Steve opted to turn up a little later but the rest of us met in the MG carpark just as first light was seeping through the haze to the east. I arrived at 0445 to find that Andy and Brian were already setting up and rapidly becoming acquainted at this there first meeting. Jaro turned up shortly afterward as did Paul, from Palmwoods, a very keen regular yak fisho but not yet one of our group.

We wandered the 50 or so metres down to the beach to inspect the situation, fully aware that there was a decent swell as we could hear the crump of the waves from the carpark. The group opinion was that it was doable with care, but only on the eastern side as the channel on the western side, normally our preferred launch spot, was blocked frequently at its northern exit by crashing waves whose approach would be obscured from a paddler's view by the wall of rocks which makes up the groyne.

Without further ado we hurried back to the cars to get our gear ready. By the time I 'd dragged my yak down to the edge of the surf, Paul had already launched, watched in fascination by Andy and Brian, the latter of whom was facing his first surf beach launch. Paul, predictably, got very wet on the way out and was lucky, I think, not to get clobbered by a big stand-up wave which he breasted just before it broke. So we four assembled, did a last-second check of our on-board security and prepared to do battle.

0520hrs. Jaro (left) and Andy get ready to boogie (They love to boogie!). That curling wave they're fixated on is just at the crucial breaking point for a yakker.

In the couple of seconds it took me to put away the camera after the above pic, a clear launch opportunity had arisen and all four of us sensed it. So, line abreast, we scrambled aboard our yaks and charged at the fleeting gap in the sets which had appeared. I went through first followed by Jaro, and then Andy. A bit concerned for Brian, I paused, as soon as I knew I was safely through, to turn and watch Brian's progress. He was on the wrong side of a large wave and disappeared from my view momentarily as the distance between him and the wave shortened. I knew it was going to be close, either the wave would break right on top of him, rolling him end over end, or he'd just scrape through. The bow of his yak punching clear of the top of the wave showed that he'd managed the latter. His straw hat, chin strap still secure, was looking a bit third hand (it looked second hand before the launch), with a hole appearing on the right side and the brim drooping so much from the weight of the water it had absorbed that I doubted he could see properly. For a first surf launch it was a classic!

It's a completely different environment just 20 metres outside the break on the ocean side -- gentle rolling swells and smooth, friendly waters. We paddled out until we were well and truly distant from the breakers and then got on with our setting-up chores.

The trip out to the shoal was easy and uneventful, with no feeding birds or fish being apparent, just the odd dolphin popping out now and again. The breeze at the shoal was from the west and promised a gentle downwind drift which I started by heading initially for the western side.

I decided to try for a snapper or sweetlip while all the time keeping an eye open for opportunities to tackle pelagics should they suddenly show up, as they can at this time of year. But it was not until my second drift at about 0730 that I registered my first bump on my soft plastic bait. My strike to set the hook was answered by a strong run for the bottom, typical of a sweetlip. A short but dogged struggle ensued before I'd safely boated a very nice 42cm long sweetlip.

0739hrs. A grass sweetlip (delicious on the plate) falls victim to a 4 inch soft plastic.

As I fought the fish, Brian came over and I afterward took the opportunity to take his pic on his first trip out to Jew Shoal.

Brian Templeton, aka madcow and later whalebait, mounted on his Heritage Redfin 12, at Jew Shoal, Noosa.

The action after this was non-existent with no one reporting anything of significance and by 0930 we'd all left to head home to do battle with the monster on the beach. And what a monster it was -- obviously totally pissed off that it didn't get anyone earlier. Somehow, we'd lost Andy in the time we'd been out but we figured that he'd probably gone back to the beach (he has no radio so can't tell us), but the five of us remaining returned to Middle Groyne at about the same time. Jim, possibly keen to break his other collar bone, attacked first. But his defeat, only rolled, no real damage done, did not appease the monster. The monster wanted MORE! So we sent in Brian. Just before he left to run the gauntlet I recall telling him "You'll probably get rolled." It's not often my predictions are accurate. Somehow Brian survived, but he was still picking up flotsam from the wreck on the beach 15 minutes later! I'd seen Brian get clobbered and rolled and thought: "The monster must be appeased by now, surely." So I did my run immediately after the unfortunate Brian. I was going OK, too and just on the edge of picking up a wave when the monster jumped up and pushed me sideways so savagely that my countermeasures (screaming for my long-dead mother) failed dismally. Arse-up I went, too, to the delight of a bikini-clad lady whose Noosa holiday was unexpectedly offering such excitement. Dragging my yak and carcass up out of the surf zone, I grabbed the camera, for Steve and Jaro, I knew, were still to come through. Too late. Steve, also bedraggled, was stumbling along the beach mumbling something along the lines of "...I was going OK, too, until that last big one hit...".

Having recovered my composure, and some more of Brian's bits and pieces which were momentarily popping up in the surge, I looked out to sea and could discern out the back Jaro and Paul, the latter of whom we hadn't seen much of since he'd left the beach at the same time as we did this morning. Intent on capturing on video the disaster certain to stalk these two as they returned to the beach I strode off into the waves, after borrowing the afore-mentioned lady's cloth hat to remove moisture from the lens cover (I had no dry cloth anywhere). Paul came in first and did a very fine job of thwarting the monster. I got a pretty good video of it, even though I almost got impaled on the bow of his Prowler in the process. Here are a couple of stills from the video:

Note that the cockpit is full of water and that Paul's leaning on the paddle on the ocean side while going sideways. Note also that his rods are secured horizontally along the main axis of the yak, a precaution when rollover seems likely.

Jaro came in just a couple of minutes after Paul. Clearly, the monster had been appeased by gobbling up the first four yakkers, as Jaro came in beautifully, picking the quietest set of waves that any of us on the beach had seen that morning. I got some video of that, too, and here are a couple of interesting stills from it: