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!).
