Far West Coast - November 2014

With Will sidelined on new born duties, the gashes competition was wide open. Of course, it was possible we may not see any mullies hit the sand either. Or, mullies might take someone else's bait for once!

Ben and his mate Cam tagged along on this far west journey - always good to have a second vehicle out there for safety - though the new Patrol performed flawlessy (and no feeling of "will it start?" before heading off from a remote camp). In my car were the two Kyms.

Day 1

As usual, we hit the road by 3:30am, and by 12:45 on Thursday, we pulled up at the Penong Pub for lunch. Despite our booking, it seems they didn't expect us, and had to go heat up their kitchen equipment. A few beers and a game of Buck Hunter later, and we were full up on chicken schnitzels and on our way again.

We aired down behind the dunes and set off over the top. I got slightly lost as the tracks had all blown over, and then made it to the familiar section with two short steep sections. Only this time, the second steep bit was not so short, and a lot steeper than usual. Three attempts to get over told me this was no hope, so we headed back into the township to move along the fowlers beach towards the ledge area. Having been severely bogged in the seaweed along this stretch in the past, I grabbed the binoculars to check out how much space we had between weed and water. Some other 4wd's were coming back along there, so it was deemed safe and off we went.

Coming off the beach, the tracks were very overgrown - the new Patrol suffering the first of what was to be many new pin stripe 'features'. I told myself it was good to get the first one out of the way, but still grimaced on every screech there after.

We had a quick flick on Scotts Beach into a suspicious dark section of water, but came up with nothing. We headed back out to the point to suss out the ledge, and to my dismay, there was someone else fishing there! Despite this being a fairly well known location, we've never actually had anyone else there. So, we decided to fish around the bend a bit.

Cam scored the first fish of the trip, being a tiny rock cod. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to get much better for Cam in the fishing department this week.

It was getting late in the day, and the nearby fishers had left empty handed. We needed to set up a camp, so moved around to their spot and rolled out the swags. Nothing decent was being caught, and everyone was exhausted from the early start, so we hit the hay early. Ben cast out a squid head and went to sleep next to his rod.

Day 2

We woke early to get packed up. The plan was to have another prospect for any salmon schools, but press on to the Dog Fence with our purchased bait supply if nothing was about. We had a good 10kgs of pilchards as well as squid heads and other bits and pieces.

Ben had a big run on his squid head in the night, but pulled the hooks. The frayed line suggested it might be some type of shark.

Whilst getting the car packed up, we spotted a black circle further up the coast. The newcomers thought it might be sea weed, but I've fished this spot enough times to know that area is usually all sand! We head off quickly to go and inspect it closer.

By time I have climbed down the cliff to get to a fishing ledge, Kym D is already hooked onto a salmon. Hauling them up the 8 metre drop was difficult however, and we dropped many at the last moment. Thankfully the school moved a bit and we were down on a lower, more manageable ledge. The school was out quite far now and required our best casts - but the hook ups were frequent, and we had around 20 on the rocks before they moved on. It was an awesome morning fishing session.

After filleting our catch and topping off the esky with crushed ice, we set off to the dog fence. There is a nice track running behind the dunes that provided good safe travel for the first 5kms or so. After that it was pretty easy going along the beach. We selected a campsite opposite a nice big gutter, and unpacked.

Unfortunately, as a few quickly found out, the bottom seemed to have a bit of unseen reef, and rigs were getting snagged and busted off. I must have got lucky and hit not reefy patch, because I landed another salmon soon after. Despite having just caught a load, I thought fresher the better, and threw it in the esky.

I was at camp cutting up a new bait, when I heard an almighty crack, followed by some "ooohs" (said in that kind of painful manner when you see a footy player get hit in the nuts). I peered around the car and see Kym A staring up his Sensor Surf rod which had snapped in half right in the centre. He stared upwards for a good 10 seconds in disbelief. He had only been leaning back lightly to try and pull out a snag when it went bang. Kym had another 10 footer, 6-10kg rod on board, so he was still in the game, but would have preferred something more heavy duty for casting big baits.

However, as weird as this might sound, this may just have turned out to be a blessing in disguise (more later).

We decide it is probably best we move camp rather than continue on the snags, but since it's getting late, we'll stay the night and move early.

Day 3

We arise early and get packed up as quick as possible. I'm thankful we both have awnings now, and haven't set up an elaborate tarp shelter. I had noted a good gutter about 2.8kms from the entrace (we were at about 9km now) and decided to go and check that one out again. I was worried someone else would have set up camp there, but luckily, everyone had passed on it. Not sure why, as it looked great! Another fisherman out there told us good looking gutters "are too good to be true" and always passed on them for lesser looking water.

Anyway, we set up camp again, and thankfully, no snags this time. Ben then brings out his spare rod for Kym to use, the Abu Garcia Thunder Stick. Ben is talking this thing up like no tomorrow - it is the rod that always catches. The rod that gets fish when no other rod can. A rod blessed by the fishing gods themselves. But one wonders why he not using it himself.

The thunder stick didn't catch any fish that day, but neither did any other rod... until after sunset.

We had our rods out, with little ebay led lights flashing away, and were talking around camp, when Kym D says "Someone is on!", and like a dream come true, that someone was me.

I bolt down to my rod, as best as I can in my waders, and strike. The fish was shaking its head and making massive runs. I have never caught a big mulloway before, but I was pretty sure this was it. At least I hoped it was and not a shark. It certainly wasn't a sting ray.

I was using my Wilson 5120 and Penn 950ssm so knew I had plenty of grunt to let this thing run on the drag and let the curve of the rod do it's thing. Still, I was incredibly worried about this being a one that got away story, and my legs were shaking with nervousness.

The other rods were wound in to ensure no tangles caused any heartache, and I'm not sure how long it took - it felt like 10 or 15 minutes, but soon Kym D was in the shallows calling "big mully!" and I just had wait for the right wave. It came, and the fish was up onto the sand. Elation from everyone went up, and I couldn't quite believe it. This is my eighth far west coast trip, and my first good mully (the only other being a just legal last year). It's all worth it at that moment.

The fish measured 113cm, and weighed 33lb (or 15 kg). It was certainly quite fat for it's length.

Everyone re-baited and got lines out in the water again, and I commissioned Kym D to do my filleting work for me (under the guise of not wanting to waste any precious mully meat).

Soon after, Kym D again notices something happening with the rods, this time saying "my rod has gone!". He raced out there to see his rod wasn't actually gone, but the tip of it, holding the light, had snapped off and slid down the line. It seems that he had hooked a big bit of seaweed and the sideways current put the wrong sort of pressure on the tip. One Shimano Beachbasher rod busted. Now, two heavy duty surf rods out of action and it was only day 3. Luckily, he had a Sensor Surf to still use, but having seen one busted just a day earlier, there must have been some nervousness there.


Day 4

I was up early again, feeling rather happy, thinking about engraving my name on the Gashes trophy. There were a few lines out in the water, but a bit of seaweed causing issues, and a general consensus that we'd get serious around 12:30 on the incoming tide.

Now, here comes the blessing in disguise: Kym A, now using the Thunder Stick, sees the rod buckle over onto something weighty, and line start streaming out. Everyone jumps into action. Camera's come out, brag mats come out, other lines are wound in, and everyone is down on the beach.

It is clearly another big fish. This was Kym A's seventh outing for no result so far, so I was hoping for him that it'd be a good mully - say, about 112cm good.

It was a long fight, but when I saw it come into the breakers looking beat, I picked it for about 1 metre long. However, when it came sliding up the sand, I knew my gashes hopes had been short lived. It went off the end of the brag mat. We estimated it at about 123cm - a little bit shorter than the 125cm monster Will caught a couple of years back - but a bit skinnier. Probably around the 40lb mark, but we didn't weight it as Kym decided to let it go. It was a bit slow in swimming off, but was still giving its tail some sluggish kicks as it went back through the gutter and out of sight, so hopefully it was ok.

More high fives and a long walk back to camp. The thunder stick delivered just as Ben promised. I asked if he was taking it back now, but he said after the second catch I'll be getting a bit annoyed, after the third, I will take it back, and the fishing will be ON. That was the thunder stick prophecy. Unfortunately, it didn't quite pan out.

Day 5

It was a day full of seaweed, seaweed, and more seaweed. Not a single bite was had. Many beers consumed.

Day 6

Seaweed was still hanging around, and our fresh fillets were running somewhat low. We had a pre-trip plan to at some point move down to Tuckamore for a fish, so we figured it might as well be now, rather than put up with the sea weed any longer.

We packed up, and headed off, detouring via Fowlers to check for any Salmon. It didn't look good so decided to grab a quick bite at the Kiosk before moving on. I was determined not to let my tyres down for only a 5 minute stint on sand, so went on the Fowlers Beach again as it is quite firm. All was going well until we hit a sea weedy section, and I made a spur of the moment decision to head below a big ball of weed rather than above it. Down goes the front right tyre into slush. This is the worst spot to be bogged - you're in absolute slush and the tide creeps up quickly.

Ben gives me a snatch backwards and it pulls me far enough to get max trax under the tyres, and I'm able to gently reverse out. Ben, however, gets bogged himself in the sand, and has to let his tyres down to move out. In hindsight, I could have perhaps then snatched him forwards myself, but at least I didn't have to let my tyres down only to pump them up 5 minutes later!

The track into Tuckamore provides many many more scratches. They still hurt like the first. It won't matter when I catch my next big fish though.

Unfortunately, the first casts at our new camp provide returns of bait gone, bait gone, bait gone, and.... a shitty. Shit. These things are a right pain in the butt. Baits are stolen almost instantly and when you do hook them, they spike the crap out of you leaving painful holes in your hands.

Day 7

Seaweed was becoming a problem again, and the shitties still a massive issue. Around lunch time, Kym A got a solid bite on his rod amongst the shitties, but no hook up. He then rebaits and casts to the same spot and almost instantly gets a hook up. A nice gummy shark comes up the beach. It is his first ever Gummy, so that makes two firsts of the trip for him (three if you include the broken rod.. sorry Kym). The Thunder Stick strikes again!

Despite the catch, it was clearly not a fishable location when you couldn't keep a bait for more than 2 minutes. We made a decision to move on the next day.

Day 8

Not willing to risk driving the beach, where we've come unstuck before, we take some behind the dunes track - very narrow - more scratches.

We pop out onto the beach again about half way up and it's easy going from there.There were a few great looking gutters and holes along the way, so it was hard to decide where to set up camp. Perhaps we picked the wrong one, because we had absolutely no bites all day! It was windy as hell all day too, making it pretty uncomfortable. The wind dropped at night, but still nothing was biting.

Ben has to head off the next day, and the forecast was showing more wind, so we decided to join him for the drive home.

Day 9

The cars were packed up early, mully fillets distributed, and we were soon on our way home for that enjoyable 10 hour car ride.

This trip had some great moments. A crazy session landing solid sambo's from the rocks. Two PB mulloways, and a first ever gummy for Kym. However, between those moments, it was barren - not a bite or a run to be had. Not even a single stingray to be seen (I'd normally see this as good thing, but they can be entertaining when nothing else is on the go!).

Salt Creek Again

When I saw new moon, low winds and sunny conditions for the weekend, I quickly asked for and received Friday off work. Unfortunately, the others guys don't have bosses as considerate to fishing needs as mine, and no one else was able to make it. So, it was just me and Sani, off for a romantic weekend away camping and fishing!

The destination, as it often has been this year, was Salt Creek. I popped into the Salt Creek servo around 11am to have a chat to Adam, who didn't fill me with great confidence on the recent catches ("a few sharks, a few salmon..." without much enthusiasm), but the good fishing has to begin somewhere.

I found a very likely looking hole about 4 or 5kms up from 42 Mile Crossing, and pulled the Patrol up and quickly set about getting my rods ready. Sani set up the cooker and prepped lunch - she was quickly proving to be a very useful companion.

I had wanted to get some fresh squid heads for bait, so stopped in at a fish store in Meningie on the way. It was more of a shed with a couple of fridges, but in any case, they didn't have squid and I walked out of there with some mullet fillets and a bag of 'just in' pilchards. They weren't brined, but looked very fresh and hadn't been frozen at all.

On my first cast, I am pretty sure I saw one of these super fresh pilchards disintegrate into the air before the sinker even hit the water. Nonetheless, I set up my other rod, my old Wilson 5120 that hadn't seen any action since I bought my Penn Prevail last year, and casted that out. The pilchard appeared to stay connected to the hooks this time.

I rebait my first rod, and cast back out. Being the only person fishing, I thought I'd go twice as hard as normal with two big set ups. The old Wilson had a few shakes, and I noticed the line well down the beach. I started winding it in, and found a bit of weight on the end of the line followed by some good headshakes. A nice little gummy was soon on the beach and I was stoked. Within the first 30 minutes of fishing, I had a good catch.

Although my baits were disappearing as soon as I cast them, it wasn't long again before I had another bite. This time a small mulloway which was quickly returned. Things were looking hopeful and confidence was then high.

Disintegrating baits were proving problematic, however. I had brought along some left over brined pilchards from a previous trip that were going to be berley. I found that they were actually holding onto the hooks better (not by much though) and saved them for bait. They'd be needed if I couldn't catch a salmon to use as bait, as the supply was quickly thinning, having to rebait every single cast.

I fished hard and long - into the dark hours without a single bite. The water looked primed for fish but it wasn't happening for me.

We retired to the tent around 10pm, and I was up early on Saturday in hope and need of an early morning salmon.

Some seaweed was floating through the gutter, but it was more of a nuisance than a problem. By lunchtime though, I still hadn't landed anything that could be used as bait, and had run out of mullet fillets, and was running low on pilchards. When I starting reeling in 20kg piles of ribbon weed, I decided there was no point sticking around for a night time fish, as my pilchard supply was bound to run dry by then (and didn't want to take the hour round trip to Salt Creek to continue battling weed piles). So, we had a slow pack up whilst I optimistically had lines out in the water, hoping for that last moment catch. Instead, I got a whopping pile of weed and snapped my rig off. Definitely time to head home then.

To make matters worse, my air compressor packed it in half way through inflating my first tyre. Lets hope 4wd Supacentre can do a warranty replacement before this year's Far West Coast trip!

Boating Newbies

With supposedly great weather predicted on Sunday, we decided to get Will's boat out on the water for a much overdue fishing expedition.

Whilst we're fairly comfortable these days when it comes to beach fishing, we are complete newbies in the boat. The plan was to get out in the morning and load up on squid, then catch some snapper on the arvo tide. Of course, we don't have a GPS or even GPS spots, but with some stories of mates of mates getting into a few close off shore from Wirrina, we launched the boat there about 10 am feeling rather hopeful.

We spent many hours drifting around for barely a touch (and in my case, not a touch). Kym and Will had a few cuttlefish between them, but chucked them back. Kym got a couple of perfect small bait sized squid.

We then headed out deeper and sounded around looking for some structure on the bottom which would be a likely snapper producing spot. This is a lot harder than it seems.. we'd see something good and then loop around to try settle on the spot and fail to find it again!

We eventually dropped anchor and commenced the waiting game.

Without any hint of life below deck, the weather report failed us with some very gusty winds chopping up the sea. It was getting quite uncomfortable, so we headed in shallow again to get onto smoother water.

After stopping at various spots, we finally hit upon some action as the sun was getting low in the sky. Kym winding in a big King George at 43 cm. That got the hopes up! A few big sweep were landed and released, and many rock cod too. Then Will got a good hook up that he thought might be a salmon. Instead, a monster KGW at 47cm come into the boat. Unfortunately, it went a bit quiet on the whiting after that and I was copping a well deserved ribbing about my lack of fishing ability.

With the sun getting quite low and the boat without any lighting, it was time to head in. Almost defeated, I changed back to a bigger rig declaring I would go out with a bang. On that last cast, I finally got a good bite.. excitement was huge... a whiting of my very own approached the boat, and I launched it out of the water and onto the deck. The others immediately pointed out it was smaller than theirs to belittle my moment in the spotlight, but I didn't care, I was finally on the board with something I could keep!

The last cast catch made us have another "last cast" and Will came up with a fish again, this time a really cool looking leather jacket, its blue sides shimmering in the sunlight. Being quite large, it went straight into the icebox.

So after about 9 hours on the water, we had 3 whiting, a couple of squid, and a leather jacket. Not exactly a great haul, but a few lessons learnt and it beats sitting on the couch.

Coorong - August 2014

As many trip ideas are born, Kym and I decided over a few beers that a late August trip had to be done. The girls were keen and the only question remaining was where to go.

It's not often the forecast for Salt Creek shows light northerlies and blue skies for the weekend, so they swayed us to head down there for the weekend, hoping for a winter mulloway.

Will and Dana couldn't get the time off work, but were keen enough to come down early on Saturday to get one night in.

We rolled onto the beach Friday morning and very surprisingly, settled on a campsite / gutter with reasonable speed for us (Kym and I have been known for driving up and down the beach without committing to any spot for lengthy periods of time).

Our new Blackwolf Turbo Tents went up in a turbo like fashion, and the first camping burger of the trip soon followed. Eventually, we got the lines into the water, and Kym was soon winding a salmon back onto the sand after his very first cast. Straight into the bait bucket for that one.

His next cast landed an undersized mulloway. The cast after that, another salmon. This continued for his first eight casts with a mixture of salmon and small mulloway landed. The biggest mulloway went 68cm.

The one fish per cast was going well for Kym, but then he got a little bit too confident and decided to throw in a second line. The streak was over, and no matter how long he took before winding in that line, he knew there was likely no bait left on the hooks.

Around the same time, my line finally saw some action, and I grabbed the rod and pulled back to feel quite a bit of weight on it. I thought this could either be a big pile of seaweed caught in a rip, a big stingray, or a decent sized fish that wasn't putting on a lot of fight. I hoped for the latter, but after about 15 minutes of struggling and very sore arms, I saw the stingray come into the shallows. It took a long time to get a good wave to push it up onto the sand. I'm not sure if this is a different type of stingray to others I've caught, or someone has previously chopped it off, but it appeared to have no barb on it's tail. Still, I wasn't taking any risks so, cut my hooks off and let it slide back into the water on the next wave.

The salmon continued to be landed at semi-regular intervals, which meant we were able to have some good fillets of fresh salmon out for bait. As the sun set in perfect conditions, hopes were high for a big mulloway to come along, but unfortunately it was a very quiet sessions at night. We pulled in the rods around 9pm and sat  around the fire.

I woke up the following morning surprisingly early, before everyone else, and before the sun at come up over the dunes. I thought some driftwood was washed up on the beach, but on closer inspection, it was a whale vertebrae! A cool find I thought. 

I decided to go for a stroll up the dunes to look at the view and take a few photos. My rod was still in the water on the beach, so if I got a bite it was going to be quite a run. 

Will and Dana rocked up around 9am and Will soon after had a salmon landed - also his first cast. He wasn't able to go on to beat Kym's eight in a row streak though.

The fishing was good again, although the catches not as regular as the day before. Will got another 68cm mulloway (Why are there so many mulloway agonisingly close to 75cm, yet so few just over?)

It was another awesome day in terms of weather, and the campfire drinks went late into the night. So late, that everyone was a little slow moving in the morning, but the seaweed had washed in and meant fishing wasn't much of an option anyway. We cooked up breakfast and headed off home.

Gleesons - July 2014

Because we're getting old and soft, this trip was very much reliant on a preferable weather report. When the weekend forecast showed no rain and very little wind, I suggested to Kym it had to happen. Luckily for us, short notice days off were granted and the trip planning began. Unfortunately, everyone else had less luck securing a day off, or simply didn't read their email in time.

Tossing up between Salt Creek and Yorkes could have taken weeks itself with our combined indecisiveness, so I called it as Yorkes mainly to give the new Gashes bus it's first run without too much risk of catastrophe (the beach at Salt Creek is quite sketchy at the moment from recent reports).

I'll glaze over our attempts to catch some squid for bait along the way. Lets just say we left them biting at Wool Bay - and we still left empty handed.

So, we head over to the Dust Hole to check it out and see if there were any schools about. Sad to see that the old 4wd access track is well and truly closed off now. With no visible schools in the water, and no desire to go walking for a few kms, we headed back to Gleesons and set up camp so we could cook up lunch.

The new Gashes Bus!

Then we cracked beers, baited up, and waited. And waited. And waited.

Not a single bite. The next day, Kym attempted to catch some small salmon trout on his light rod to use as bait. I admire his persistence, casting continuously for an hour before finally landing one. When he landed a second soon after, I knew it was my time.

Kym working hard whilst I sit at camp

One cast, and I land a tommy, which was soon sailing back out to sea on a couple of 8/0's. Content with having a good bait out in the water, I went back to my seat and continued drinking some of West End's Finest. Unfortunately, when I went to check on it an hour later, it wasn't there. I hope it didn't come off during the cast, at least. That would be more painful to accept than the idea that perhaps a huge mulloway came along and pried it off the hooks somehow.

Another night around the fire with rods out in the water until midnight, and still, not a single run. We did have a local mouse come and sit by the fire with us though. Kym fed it some cheese and it was very happy. You can actually see it in this photo on the left of the fire.

Fishing was slow but the scenery and weather were perfect

With all hope of catching a decent fish lost, we casted out for one final crack in the morning. Kym was trekking off down the beach to the next gutter, when I noticed a small tap on my rod. Was that a wave? better check. I wind in a little and feel some weight on the line.. quickly followed by the glorious feeling of headshakes that I'd missed so much. On my light surf rod, it actually proved a bit of a challenge to get up past the breakers, but soon enough I had it on the beach. A nice 2.8kg Salmon. It looked like he'd been having some trouble with the local shark population.

Looking mighty happy here.

Hopes were high that this was the opening of the flood gates, but it was just a lonely salmon and nothing more was caught. We soon packed up and headed back to Adelaide, thinking we mustn't wait 3 months before the next outing.

Coorong - April 2014

Better late than never...

After Kym secured his first legal mulloway back in February, we were keen to get back down to Salt Creek to add to the tally. The reports of good fish were starting to dry up and it seemed like this might be the last chance of the season.

I set off along with the two Kyms and swung by Ben's house to form a small convoy.

At the Salt Creek servo, we were informed that some recent catches of snapper and mulloway had come between the 42 mile and tea tree crossing - so that is where we pointed the cars. We crossed over a bone-dry tea tree, and turned left at the beach. After a bit of indecisiveness and back and forth on the beach, we settled upon a campsite with a decent looking gutter adjacent.

The sun was shining, and weather superb. Perfect beer drinking weather! Now, the lengthy time between the trip and writing this has some details a bit sketchy here. It wasn't the beer consumption.

Over the course of the trip, there were a few elephant sharks landed, in fact I am pretty sure everyone present landed at least one. The real excitement of the trip came when Kym D wound in a mulloway that called for the measuring tape. Unfortunately it fell just short of legal at 73cm and was sent on it's way.

Being that the mighty mulloway is the dream catch, that was declared enough to take out the Gashes.  The other highlight of the trip was a fox walking in to camp whilst we sat around the fire. He was eating up old baits and discarded bits of elephant shark.

Photos to follow. I managed to avoid photoing any fish once again.

A fairly lazy effort at setting up camp.

Can't complain!

The weather was right, the fishing not so much

Crystal clear skies

Our night time intruder

Kym Pops His Mully Cherry

After many months of trying to organise a coorong trip with an old friend, Ben - we finally found a date good for us both. Kym D and Andre were keen to get along for a coorong visit as well, but after the forecast changed from 36 and fine to rain and thunderstorms, Andre bailed.

With late notice, it left just Kym and I, driving through hours of rain to hit the beach, and after travelling 20kms up the beach, we finally settled on a spot we could set up camp and got out the car - for the rain to dry up and barely bother us for the rest of the weekend.

I sent a message to Ben to let him know our location and he informed me he was on his way back from Brisbane - that's dedication to a fishing trip! He was to arrive later that day, and then leave the following evening.

I had the first soapy on the board which was clearly undersized and quickly returned. Kym, having never caught a mulloway of any size, was excited even by undersized fish being in our gutter. Regardless of that, we set up a pretty cool shelter just in case the rain came back:

Ben and his father-in-law, Francis rolled up around 5pm, and before long we had a nice selection of baits in the water. Everyone was able to pull in a soapy, including Kym who looked pretty happy with his:

Whilst my mulloways got consistently smaller, Kym got a couple more that had us racing for the measuring tape - but fell short at just under 70cm.

It was a nice calm night and as the sunset, we chucked on some glow sticks and fished right up until midnight, but not a single bite was had.

The following day the winds picked up a bit, but nothing bad enough to stop the fishing. Ben and Francis were due to head home around dinner time and were desperate to get something in the esky before leaving. But with only undersized mulloway about, it didn't seem likely.... until Ben wound a stocky little bronzy up onto the beach! He was de-finned and prepared for the esky and they were soon on their way. Fresh flake for dinner.

Kym & I chose to forgo the night fish with the wind being too much of a pain. We instead rose early (for us at least) and threw some baits out. Without any hits, we quickly decided this spot wasn't going to provide, and packed up with the intention of fishing another gutter before heading home.

With no gutters really standing out as saying "fish here!" we were very indecisive and ended up back towards 42 mile crossing before finally settling on a spot. A few enquiries were had on our baits which resulted in no fish, but raised hopes. I landed a couple more tiny fish, before Kym had a definite hookup on one of his lines. He ran over, struck hard, and was on. We saw the shape of a mulloway cruise through the shallows and I knew it would be close. I grabbed out the brag mat and raced over to pull the mulloway up onto the beach. It came in at 76cm (or 76.5cm as Kym tells the story).

Not much better feeling than your first legal mulloway.

Hillocks Drive - December 2013

A few days on Yorkes with Kym, Sally, and Sani. What might have been a Gashes trip (that I wouldn't have won, as usual) wasn't to be when Andy couldn't make it at the last minute. Will was busy down at Salt Creek capturing big Mulloway. I don't know what everyone else's excuse was!

Our camp was set up right next to the long drop toilet, just in case Kym came down with any food poisoning. It's happened before at Hillocks.

It was quite windy on the first day, but at camp it was perfect conditions, so beers were cracked, and the seats certainly weren't getting any less comfortable. That was until some guys walked past us, and they'd been fishing down at Salmon beach. They made mention of a big school of sambos cruising up and down the beach, and it was enough to get us assembling the surf rods.

We made it down to the beach and found the school right down the far end. Quite a walk, damnit. Even worse was the fact they were too far out to cast to in the strong head winds. However, they soon moved within casting distance of Pete's Rocks (where he once copped a large wave sending him crashing into the drink). 

Kym and I dodged big swells, and had a ball hooking up big salmon on almost every cast. It was difficult getting them to stay on the hooks though as they often spat the hooks when trying to get them up the rocks. We were dodging waves, catching fish, and trying to wave to the girls still sitting 50 metres down the beach chitchatting to get over here and join in. 

Eventually I lost my lure and had to walk back to the girls who had our tackle bags nearby, but by time we all got back to join Kym again on the rocks, the salmon had moved on.

The following day we fished off Treasure Cove rocks for little result, but did have a bit of excitement when something massive took a big chunk of salmon on my surf rod and headed for the horizon. I wasn't close to the rod and had to do a mad scramble to get there - by that time I had a bout 200 metres of line out of sea, and as soon as I put pressure on the rod, the line snapped. I spent 5 minutes winding it in, and then we called it a day on that session.

The next day was slightly more successful, again at Treasure Cove. There was another big school of Salmon hanging around, but generally weren't interested in our lures. We still managed to hook the odd one on light tackle though, which was great fun. A lonely squid joined them in the bait bucket.

It was deemed hot enough for a swim after that, so we headed off to a fairly crowded rock pool. Luckily enough, the other people were just about to head off when we arrived.

Kym and I decided on a sunset fish at Salmon Beach. We had fresh squid and salmon for bait, so rigged up some heavy duty traces.

Just on sunset, I had a huge bite on my rod, but before I could even pick it up, the line when slack. I wound it in to find that the hook on my cheap surf popper had bent out backwards, accompanied by some toothy marks on the popper itself. Snapper maybe?

Unfortunately I didn't bring my camera down, as we had an awesome sunset. The entire sky was lit up bright red. It was Kym's turn to have some fun though, and over the course of the next few hours, he had three scorching runs, but each one resulted in no fish. One was a big run that just pulled hooks, then another even bigger run that took him beyond the reef and snapped him off. Then a final run which had a decent fight before finally busting off. The trace was very torn up, evident of a shark having taken his line. We finished up with absolutely nothing, but it was still one of the most enjoyable night fishing sessions I've had.

The next morning we headed back to Adelaide - no Gashes winner here due to the lack of numbers.