Subject: fishing today 16feb09
Date: Monday, 16 February 2009 2:45 PM
Last night's Seabreeze showed a wind drop to almost calm early this morning with an increase in speed later in the day. So I was up at 0430 today rarin' to go as it'd been a whole week since I'd been out. Jaro and his visiting sons Peter and Michael had opted to go also as it was the two boys' only offshore chance before they head back to their respective big cities tomorrow.
On the verandah at home in the pre-dawn darkness I could detect a faint breeze in the fronds of the largest palm tree in our yard so I booted the computer and hastened to Seabreeze to find that the forecast wind speed increase had moved forward during the night and was upon us already. I made up my mind to go have a look anyway as the yak was already loaded and on the roof rack of the Sierra. Jaro, meanwhile had come over to my place to discuss this worrying turn of weather events, especially as he had to manage 2 newbies, his sons, and carry/launch 3 kayaks. I left to check out the Bay, leaving Jaro to sort out his crew.
Launch conditions were ideal but the wind (SE) was already making its presence felt and I opted to launch, but to hug the sheltered waters in the lee of the NP to assess the situation out there, fully expecting that I wouldn't comfortably make it out to JS. What the hell, I need the exercise and any time spent in my yak on the water is good time.
0533. Ready to launch -- in near perfect inshore conditions.
As there was no sign of Jaro and the boys by the time I was ready to launch I opted not to wait, got through the break without getting a drop of water in the yak, quickly set up my gear and headed for the shelter of the NP headlands. Paddling conditions in here were superb, with sufficient breeze to keep me cool but not enough to interfere with my progress. I was trolling one of my battered old favourite hard bodied lures and had my casting outfit ready with a slug in the event that I happened on a school of feeding pelagics.
Shortly the radio interrupted my reverie. "Sunshiner, you in the saddle?" -- an unfamiliar voice. "Yep" I responded, thinking perhaps this was Steve (Turtle Boy), but adding "Who is this?". "Gino, mate" came back the response. He told me that he was already out there somewhere off Hell's Gates and that "It's blowing, mate", info that did not surprise me. We agreed to rendezvous somewhere out there and before long I caught sight of a bone-coloured Hobie just to the north which had to be Gino. Sure enough, it was and shortly afterward we met up. This was the first occasion that I'd encountered Gino on the water (but we have met -- he lives just around the corner from me) and so after a quick "Bon Giorno" from me (just about the limit of my Italian) I took a pic or two of the encounter.
0622hrs. Rendezvous just off Fairy Pools, and still in the lee of the headland. Gino in his Hobie.
Gino had launched near the Noosa Heads Surf Club about 20 minutes or so before I did and I wasn't aware that he intended to come along but it was nice to have some company anyway. And Gino had already coaxed a fish out of the depths -- he'd caught a tiny, but unusual, fish.
Gino's juvenile Black-Banded Amberjack (we think). Released, of course.
Just before we'd met off Fairy Pools, I'd spotted a flock of birds working to our north. So after exchanging morning pleasantries with Gino I opted to paddle toward the action. Gino, quite reasonably, decided not to go out wider and so headed west with the breeze. My excitement built as I neared the wheeling terns. But it was hard going and several times small waves broke over the bow of the yak, at one stage giving me a soaking. But I was close to the action and could see occasional large splashes as fishy predators smashed baitfish from below. Just then, the radio blared again. I stopped paddling to respond to Jaro's call and to appraise him of the situation. He'd decided to launch and he and his sons were on their way toward me, having decided to do exactly as I had, rather than head directly for Jew Shoal. By now I'd drifted away a little from the action, which apparently had died down anyway as the terns were now high up and circling, having probably lost visual contact with their intended prey.
It was about now that I mentally ran through the scenario of hooking a large fish in such conditions. The wind was at least 15 knots, there was a 2m swell and quite a significant chop as the wind had been blowing steadily for several hours and the next land upwind of me was probably the North Island of New Zealand. If I'd hooked a decent fish and it ran east I would have a difficult time following and fighting it. And then there was the boating of such a fish -- could be very tricky. So I opted not to try to pursue the terns/fish as they pushed further upwind and instead selected on the GPS one of my favourite locations at Jew Shoal and turned west and downwind toward it, only 1.4km away. Now I found I was surfing. Even out here, in 20m or m of water, the chop was steep enough for the yak to start to fall down the face of the waves, with the ever present danger of broaching. I chickened out, turned 45 degrees to port and quartered the waves as I paddled gently back toward the shelter offered by the headland, about 500m away.
Soon I was in relatively quiet water and soon also I could see Jaro & Co heading my way. As often happens in this particular piece of water, close to Fairy Pools, a pod of dolphins appeared and began their morning frolic. By radio, I brought this to the attention of Jaro who acknowledged and brought his two sons over for a close look. The dolphins were quite unconcerned by our presence. They must have known we were there because often a dolphin head would appear vertically with eyes completely out of the water, very close to me. I watched them closely for several minutes before deciding to change fishing tactics and work with the wind.
0705hrs. Jaro, closer, dispensing fatherly advice about fishing and yakking to son Michael.
Michael, keeping an eye on the dolphins.
It's always worth trying something new, I think, so I changed my lure to a squid lookalike which I'd recently won in an AKFF fishing comp and opted to troll it drifting with the breeze, casting a slug randomly with my other outfit as I travelled. I didn't hold out much hope for these tactics as there were no signs of surface action in this area and I knew there was no reef below. But at least I was travelling toward home and the trolled lure was working beautifully, changing speed with the yak as it was propelled by the wind and following sea at between 1 and 3kph with no effort necessary from me. Using this method I gently travelled the next km or so, eventually arriving off the Boiling Pot without attracting any attention, or so I thought. I turned to retrieve the squid lure only to feel a dead weight -- "Uh Oh, grinner?" I thought. And so it proved to be.
Blimey what a mouth he's got. Squid lure gets mauled by a grinner. Released.
Anxious to put our visitors Michael and Paul onto fish if possible, despite our inability to get out to our favourite reef, I mentioned to Jaro that I knew a place, sheltered in this particular wind, where yellow-finned pike may sometimes be caught, and usually in large numbers if they're around. While these are small fish, not much bigger than a foot long, they are very acrobatic fighters and are superb bait, if not so good on the plate.
He warmed to this idea and I briefly outlined the marine topography to him as we were on the edge of the area in question. That covered, I left it up to him to brief the boys on the tactics and lure change necessary (switch to soft plastics) while I paddled to a spot about 150m from Jaro's position, where I judged there might be a chance of catching pike. I'd quickly switched to a 1/4oz jighead (for maximum casting distance) garnished with a 4 inch soft plastic. In this particular area which is only 3 metres deep or so and has patches of reef visibly studded into the sandy bottom it is necessary to try to get the soft plastic to emulate a small fish swimming erratically about 2 metres down. So a long cast, 2-3 second wait, and then spasmodic retrieve is an appropriate technique. After several casts I'd had no takes so was fairly sure there were no pike just there -- I was right and about to find out why they were absent.
My next retrieve was interrupted quite gently and, fully expecting that this was a pike, I applied gentle pressure to set the hook and began to retrieve my catch. At first there was little reaction, it came toward me. Then a sudden surge away with consequent scream of the drag told me that this was no pike. A very large flathead, perhaps, I thought, as I knew they frequent this area. Then a head bumping steady and strong run, reminiscent of a snapper. Couldn't be a snapper, could it? Not in 3m of clear water in broad daylight! Then another hard run, with the reel giving more of the 12 pound line against the drag. I know, it's a small cobia, I remember thinking -- I hope it's not a metre long, not on this tackle -- I'll be here for a couple of hours trying to beat it. While still fighting the fish (rod in right hand, radio in left) I called Jaro to let him know I'd hooked something interesting, and definitely not a pike. Still I hadn't seen the fish. I could have applied more pressure but was reluctant to do so because there was a chance that I'd hooked a sharp toothed critter (tailor, or mackerel) and I didn't want to apply enough pressure so that the line was cut by the teeth. As a preference, I fish soft plastics without a wire trace and was doing so on this occasion. After three or four minutes of to and fro I could feel that the fish was tiring and a minute or so later I spotted him 2 metres below me -- a yellowtail kingfish, renowned hard fighter and very worthy opponent. Very good to eat fresh and at this size also. And I hadn't even considered it as an option!
And a short while later he was safely on the gaff.
0812hrs. Yellowtail kingfish.
After this I was hopeful that our visitors would also take fish, for wherever there is one yellowtail king, there are certainly others. But it was not to be, although Michael had a couple of takes which failed to hook up properly and which probably were 'kingies' as they are commonly called. We all tried for a bit longer and the only other thing of interest (Brian, I hope you're still with us at this stage) was that twice I had squid follow my jig to the yak -- never seen that before in Noosa. Perhaps we've found a squid catching area.
And so we headed back to the launch point, a short paddle and a ridiculously easy surf transit away, where we were met by Gino who'd recovered his yak earlier but had no more fish to report.
The kingie on the measure mat. 66cm. Note that the Queensland legal length of these changes from 50cm (presently) to 60cm on 01Mar09.
Weather's looking great for Wednesday to Saturday. The bait schools are out there today but we couldn't get out to them. Let's hope we get a chance later in the week.
Regards
Kev
Red & Yellow Espri, black paddle
VHF channel 09 or 22 (if alone), Call Sign: sunshiner
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