From: "kevin long"
Subject: noosa yakkers 30nov07 -- dare you read it?
Date: Friday, 30 November 2007 2:27 PM
Almost perfect conditions today. Only three starters: Jaro, Jim and I. Our departure time coincided with low tide so there was a bit of a curling shore break, which proved quite easy to avoid and all three of us were outside the surf zone relatively dry by 0620 or so, setting course for a showery JS (see pic), with a very light southerly helping us to push into the small swell.
There was no action on the trolled lures on the way out and as the breeze at this time was still from the south, we elected to start drift fishing 300m or so short (ie south) of JS Centre. I popped out my drogue and laid out a first cast at around 0700, noting that there was little or no drift. Second cast -- still no fish -- what's going on? Third cast and I was about to retrieve my jig for cast #4 when suddenly the line tightened, the rod bent over into the water and line started screaming off my Shimano Slade, my favoured snapper-fishing reel. It was immediately obvious to me that a snapper had picked up my pretend minnow and impaled its jaw on the deadly 1/8 oz jig carrying the minnow. Jim and Jaro were nearby and I yelled to let them know I was "on" (it's always nice to receive confirmation that the fish are there, even if you aren't the lucky bastard who has hooked one) then settled in to the task at hand, ie boating this first fish. Within a couple of minutes or so my first snapper for the day, and a keeper to boot, lay vanquished in the foot well of my Espri and I wasted little time in getting him onto the stringer and safely stored in the fish box.
Very quickly after this fish I caught a couple of small reefies, including a smallish but keeper grass sweetlip which released itself yak side, then another keeper snapper. Things were looking good, for me at least. Although it's hard to keep track of the sequence of events, around now Jim boated a keeper snapper, followed by Jaro -- now we all had runs on the board. Then we had a cooling shower of rain, and, as the shower drifted westward, we were treated to an unbroken and brilliant rainbow which stretched from east of the Noosa River mouth to Teewah. This beautiful artifact of the human brain triggered by sunlight and water droplets couldn't, because of lens limitations, be captured in total by my camera in a single shot so no piccy I'm afraid.
By 0745 I noticed that we'd drifted around 400m from JS Centre and I was considering heading back in to the centre when I felt a gentle take-up of the jig right at the bottom of its descent. I struck, to set the hook, immediately noting that I made little if any impresssion on the fish at the other end -- perhaps I'd picked up the bottom? No, a few seconds later I was sure it was a fish but its behaviour was very different from a snapper's. It hung doggedly directly under the yak, fighting to get back to the bottom as the Slade gave line steadily but smoothly, as necessary, and I cranked line back whenever the opportunity arose. As is my usual practice, I'd set the drag with a generous margin of safety, well below the breaking strain of the line, so as a result the tussle took quite a while to be resolved, and eventually it was, in my favour. There, exhausted, floating languidly next to the yak was the biggest grass sweetlip I've ever seen. I judged it to be longer than the 47cm specimen I captured here a few weeks ago, a judgement which proved correct, for this specimen occupied 52cm of my tape measure at home, later. Shortly it was safely in the yak foot well and the camera was employed to record its magnificent colour pattern before death drew its curtain over the display for ever. A lesson here. While setting the fish up for a picture I noticed that the final 50cm or so of 12lb monofilament tied to the jig was very badly abraided. In fact it was so bad that gentle pressure on the line to position the sweetie for a photo caused the line to snap (this break is visible in attached photo). It's probable that the damage to the line had been caused by close contact with the reef in the recent tussle. As a result of this damage any small increase in drag tension late in the fight would almost certainly have caused the line to break. So, presuming you've successfully raised your fish from its habitat, don't succumb to any temptation to increase the drag -- it might just prove to be the final straw -- you know, the one that metaphorically broke the camel's back.
Following this event Jim and I, shortly joined by Jaro, opted to reposition ourselves the several hundred metres to Jim's secret JS spot, now somewhat less secret. There Jaro had a very close encounter with a large turtle which decided to come up for a breather right next to him, Jim caught at least one more snapper and I tangled with several, eventually keeping two more and releasing three or four others before Jim and I decided to call it a day just after 0900. Jaro by this time had bagged one keeper snapper (but he'd returned several smaller specimens to the water) and rather than return with us he opted to stay to try to capture at least one more. I can't tell you how he went (late news: Jaro just called and reports that he caught a grinner and was busted by a big fish but didn't improve on his take-home score), but Jim and I had a pleasant and unhurried paddle home, successfully transiting the surf zone just before 1000.
What a great morning! I'm lining up for another trip on Tuesday to take a visiting friend out so anyone else interested is welcome to join us. I'll send out a confirmation email Monday evening.
Regards
Kev
Red & Yellow Espri with fish scales on it
