Subject: fishing.. er surfing, today 03mar09 -- crocs, too
Date: Tuesday, 3 March 2009 3:17 PM
We had company this morning. Three young guys, not from Noosa, hearing of our exploits, had asked to go along with us. I told them to be at the doggy beach car park at 0530, where Jim and I had agreed to meet to check out the conditions before deciding whether to launch at the east-facing Sunshine Beach.
I got to the car park at 0520 to be met by two eager beavers, Paul and Lee, whom I'd met before, and was told that the third guy, Jason, was already down at the beach in "ready to go" mode. I wandered down in the half light noting that waves were breaking on the outer bank, but assessed it as doable, meeting Jason while down there.
Jim arrived at the car park just as I returned to it to unload and accepted the verdict of "go" and immediately started to unpack.
So five of us faced the water in the dawn light, three youngbloods, one of whom was sporting a plaster cast on his left wrist, Jim and I.
Young Jason, in his Prowler, was first away. I watched him make his way out steadily and watched him get clobbered by a breaker on the outer bank. His yak was upside down but he had his PFD on and was well prepared, for he righted the yak, jumped back on and paddled off into clear water to muted cheers from the rest of us, who still had to face the music.
Paul and Lee, in Hobies, set off next and were making good progress when I launched, just before Jim. Picking the sets was very difficult -- it was more a matter of working your way through the shore break, and then, once in the deeper water, timing a run through the swells as they arrived (and usually broke) on the outer bank, about 50 metres out. I'd boarded cleanly and was steadily making my way through the maelstrom, being washed back again, then working forward again. It was on about my second wash-back to the beach, still upright, still paddling, that Jim joined me and together we worked our way out. Third time lucky -- I was through the the shore section as was Jim, and we both lined up on this enormous breaker (well, they do seem enormous from water level) which was rapidly getting closer and closer to the breaking point. We both climbed the face at the last possible instant, I reckon, and I clearly recall the surge of relief when the bow of the yak plunged cleanly down into the trough as the wave broke with a roar behind me. Too easy!
The flotilla of five yaks assembled "out the back", the necessary preparations were completed, and we paddled off directly toward the sun which had just cleared the horizon. It was only 1.3km to my mark on Sunshine Reef -- we'd drifted about 300m closer to it with the gentle off-shore breeze.
Less than 15 minutes later we were there. Jim immediately discovered that his deep-trolled pilchard line had a paying customer and he cranked it in with little ceremony -- as it wasn't a hard fighting specimen, but an unusual one for us...
0620hrs. Venus tusk fish, about 40cm (?) long, min length 30cm, bag limit 6 of all species (of wrasse). Very highly regarded as a table fish. Sunshine Beach in background.
There are no further pics of this fish because it contrived successfully to leap back over the side after the hooks were removed.
The reef here is at about 22-27m depth. I opted to fish with a soft plastic on my casting outfit and later deployed a squid lure on my trolling rod, with a ball sinker in front of it to get it down to about 20m. Neither Jim nor I got any further action although we were fishing in the same area where three of us bagged nine snapper three months earlier (the previous time we were there).
By about 0830 I'd had enough -- aside from a single hit on the squid which tore its soft plastic face off but missed the hook, I hadn't had a touch. Jim and I agreed by radio that we'd go in and "have a surf". By shortly after 0900 we were both "out the back" gazing with trepidation at the waves which seemed, unaccountably, to be bigger than we remembered them from just over three hours earlier.
We secured our gear, as normal for a beach re-entry, even if there was no big surf, and started manoeuvring to pick a gap. During this time I shot a few seconds of video while the waves rolled us around, then packed the camera away -- perhaps I should have left it running.
0908hrs, Sunshine Beach. Jim crested this wave stern first, obviously just before it broke (still from video).
Here's the video I shot and edited. It’ll give you some idea of the swell we were up against.
Some of the waves were much bigger than that in the pic. And Jim managed to find one, which, despite his best attempts to bring his bow around to hit it at 90° bow first, clobbered him. I stood back ready to provide assistance (by calling the Coastguard -- joking) while watching Jim right his yak, climb back in, and paddle back out to quieter water, where I was, a good 20 m from where he'd been clobbered. Confirming that Jim was OK, I decided it was time for me to go in, mainly so I could get the video set up to watch and record from solid ground (well, sand, anyway), Jim's beach return.
So I entered the tricky zone adjacent the outer bank, which has to be transited anyway. Jim and I were only a few metres apart and had our bows pointing out to sea when a wave of biblical proportions appeared on our limited horizon. We both accelerated toward the oncoming wave, certain that this monster was going to break before it reached our present position, and not wishing to be there, or closer to shore, when it happened. Up and up rose the wave face. It seemed to (no, it actually did) tower over me and I just knew, a second before impact, that a clobbering was now on my agenda. Sure enough, the wave broke just before I got there (Jim got through). Even though it smacked me hard on the chest I retained my seat and briefly thought that I had a fighting chance of staying upright, until the stern dug in deeply and over I went, end over end, backwards. Under such circumstances the wave usually leaves the yak behind, bobbing upside down with the rider bobbing next to it, having been buoyed upward by the PFD. And so it was this time. I surfaced next to the yak in perhaps 3-4m of water, for I still had the leashed paddle in my hand, immediately looked out to sea to check for a following wave -- sure enough, there was one, but not so big, and opted to hang onto the yak stern handle and ride this one out until the next trough. Too easy! The wave having passed without too much consternation, I rolled my Espri right way up and boarded, without difficulty, from the port side, which is clear of racked rods for this very purpose. Paddle in hand, I opted to continue my charge into the beach, after all I was through the outer break, however accidentally. The next wave loomed behind. My peripheral vision being pretty good, I could see (1) a newly broken wave catching me as I made my way through the trough of the previous, and (2), about 10m away, a fishing rod floating in the surf -- not mine, I only had two rods and both were aboard. Just as the wave reached me I decided to broach the yak to starboard by digging the paddle in hard on the starboard side and hanging on, leaning out that side, rather than going straight ahead, possibly submerging the bow, and risking a forward flip. This tactic worked far better than I'd hoped for the next instant I was travelling sideways, port side toward the beach, paddle braced on the starboard side, stabilised on the broken wave. The next instant the yak hit the beach sideways, sliding to a halt, right way up. Home and definitely hosed! Too easy!
Dragging the yak up the beach out of the reach of the surge, I looked back into the washing machine I'd just come through. There was Jim, bobbing next to his yak, which was upside down again, on the beach side of the outer bank. Nearby, Jason, who'd opted to come in about the same time as we had, was right way up and, buoyed by the optimism of youth, paddling like crazy, clearly on his home run. He went pretty well too, surfing his Prowler for a good while along the face of a breaking wave, quite close to shore, his paddle dug into the wave on the port side of the yak. But shortly, he too went over, right at the end of his ride. I had the camera out but caught, on video, only the last part of this action.
Jason chasing after his paddle, yak and yellow floating dry bag (still from video).
Jason and his gear were safely ashore, if somewhat bedraggled. How was Jim going? I think at this stage he'd opted to wash in to the beach, hanging on to his inverted yak, for there he was in the surge about 20m from the shore, "walking" his yak in. Nearby I could see a croc -- not that sort -- but the footwear sort, presumably one of Jim's pair which he'd taken out with him. While Jason rescued the croc, I wandered over to Jim to tell him that I'd seen a fishing rod floating in the surf as I came in and to ask him if it was perhaps his. It was, and that and the croc weren't the only things still out there somewhere. The plywood back deck of Jim's yak had popped off, facilitating the escape of the croc, which pair had been stowed in the fishbox for safekeeping, so this piece of ply was also at liberty in the surf. While all this was going on, a bikini clad lady sauntered past, as they do, heading south toward the surf club. About 100m south of us, I saw her pick up something at the water's edge. Jim's rod, for sure! Jim, having been informed of this, broke into a big smile and doubled off down the beach to reclaim one of his favourite rods. Shortly most of the other items which had gone astray washed up on the beach or were recovered by Jason, frolicking in the surf, including my water bottle which is usually secured with two elastic straps on the back deck, and which I hadn't noticed was missing until I saw it lying there as flotsam, very close to my yak.
Jason, who has no radio and so couldn't tell us he'd caught fish, produced a reasonable grass sweetlip from the bowels of his Prowler and recounted a story of a battle with a much larger unknown species of fish which lasted 15 minutes before a bust off.
Jason, from Caloundra, with his first offshore catch, a 39cm grass sweetlip. I think we'll be seeing a lot more of this guy at Noosa.
Don't know how the other guys went. They were still out when we came home. Hope they had as much fun in the surf as we did...
Got urgent work to do, so I won't be able to get out again tomorrow, the third day in a row.
Kev
Red & Yellow Espri, black paddle
VHF channel 09 or 22 (if alone), Call Sign: sunshiner
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