Far West Coast - November 2012

Back to 4 people, and the comfort of 2 cars for this years Far West Coast adventure - Myself, Will, Kym, and "new" Kym (Kym D for this story).

After stopping off at Penong for a delicious Schnitzel at the pub, and a few local characters talking up our prospects over the next week (one referred to Mulloway's as "c*#ts", as in - "you're gonna catch a big c*#t!") our hopes were high, and we set off on the last part of the journey to Scotts Beach.

Scotts had it's usual deep gutters and excellent looking water, but not the black schools in the water that we'd hoped to see. Having wasted many hours bait fishing for salmon in the gutters in previous years, we went off in search of schools, and ended up at the ledge. The ledge was quiet though, and we instead decided to try the deep gutter on Scotts after all, and set up camp. Things were promising when my first cast landed a Salmon, but it was all quiet from then on, and we soon called it a night after a long day.

The following day, we again searched for Salmon, desperately needing a few for bait before heading off to the dog fence. A great looking gutter at Mexican hat provided nothing and soon we returned to the rock ledges of Fowlers Point to berley up for some small fish. Instead of small fish though, a school of good sized salmon came swimming through, and Kym D who was persistently flicking lures out on his small rod, hooked up instantly. Will had a lure out in the water in no time at all and within a minute we had 2 good salmon up on the rocks. I hooked on myself, only for my lure to bust off as I was lifting the fish up onto the rocks.

Over the next hour, the school came and went multiple times, and we chased them around the corner and had persistent hook ups - at first I lost two lures for a single Salmon, but evened up the ledger and then got some footage of the boys hooking on - multiple hook ups at once were a common sight.

Bait esky loaded, and spirits high, we set off back to our campsite as the sunset, and soon everyone was relaxed and sinking some beers. It was good not to have a worry about bait on the back of our minds.

As we pulled on to the Dog Fence beach the following morning, we saw more fisherman than a winter trip to the Coorong! Most were fishing the nice looking gutter closer to the entrance, so we plowed on past, and into some really soft sand, but made it through no worries. We settled on a dark looking patch of water with some reef further out, which was creating a nice channel in front of it.

After setting up the tarp for some shade and shelter from the wind, we set up the rods and all casted out a fresh slab of salmon. Before Will required his first bait change, he was hooked on to a solid fish, and before we could get the camera's organised, he was already sliding a 96cm mully up onto the sand. A bloody good start, and gave us confidence about the gutter we'd set up camp in front of!

When the excitement of that fish wore off, Kym D got out the action kite and we had some fun screwing around with that. He then attached the GoPro to it, and got some awesome footage of our camp from up in the sky:


As the sun was setting, Will hooked and landed a huge dog shark, and then again hooked on to something even larger. He called large head shakes, and then no head shakes, and then definitely headshakes. Whatever it was, it was taking line down the beach and putting up a hell of a fight.Will put a heap of pressure on his rod to steer the mully away from the reefs, and soon we spotted a silver flash in the shallows. It was a big mulloway. He played it slowly and safely and waited for the right wave to push the huge fish up the beach. I grabbed it by the gills and slid it to safety. Will saw it was wasn't any chance of getting away now and let out a woohoo. There was jumping, clapping, and probably the odd high five or two between us all as I tried to snap off a few photos. In the fading light, getting the camera to focus was proving difficult. With a mulloway already in the esky, we'd have let this one go - but given it was easily the largest fish Will had ever caught, it deserved some justice in the photos. We decided to put it in the esky as well, and find some place to freeze it until we were on our way home. I grabbed out my flash and took a few pics that will no doubt be adorning the walls in Will's house soon.

Will's big mully - ~125cm long

After the excitement of that fish, we settled down and had some glow sticks out for any night action. I had a run and pulled in a good sized stingray - but it wasn't really the prize I was after!

The next day was quiet in terms of fishing. We saw that the left side of what we thought was a long running gutter was actually reefyness causing the dark blue water. This forced us to fish about 100 metres down the beach, making fetching a beer quite a journey. We did get the beach tent out to keep the bait esky cool and fished hard all day long. The weather was fine, but the fish weren't hungry.

Will landed a monster of a Salmon during the day, which the scales weighed in at just below 3kg. I think they must be broken because it was huge! That was the only thing landed until around 5pm though, when I noticed my line a long way sideways of my rod. I picked it up to check and felt some headshakes. It was an easy battle with an already exhausted bronzy. It's good to have at least one photo holding a nice sized fish, but I would have enjoyed a better battle.

When we woke up the following day, the gutter that had produced two mulloway was looking a lot shallower - sand had filled it in on the high tide overnight and we were restricted to a much smaller area to fish. We were really keen to fish the dog fence for a full 4 nights leading into the full moon, but accepted our fate and decided to pack up camp and move on. The plan was either to move down the beach to better looking water, or head straight to Tuckamore. With so many people fishing the beach on the way out, we didn't really want to muscle in next to anyone, so radio'd to each other that we'd just keep moving to Tuckamore and set up there for the full moon.

Whilst we were kind of disappointed to be moving away, it turned out to be a blessing. As we found out from other fisherman days later, a massive storm had blown through the area that same night and wiped out multiple campsites. Three metre swells washed up the beach and moved cars parked at camp sideways and washed gear out to sea. Down at Tuckamore where we were, we had very strong winds, but other than our tarp set up flapping around keeping us awake at night, we were relatively unscathed.

On the way to Tuckamore, I struck some trouble on the soft sandy track on the way in, slipped off the side and getting into a precarious position. The car was very tilted to the side, and the only way out was to back up, which would result in an even larger tilt. I edged up on the max trax slightly before we decided to tow it backwards with Will's hilux. This did the trick, and we were on our way again quite soon. We hit the beach soon after, and got about 80 metres in before Will's car bogged down. It was very shell gritty, and definitely going to be too hard to proceed, so we decided to camp back at the entrance. I tried to back up along the track but the slant of the beach had me sliding towards the water, and I soon gave up hope of getting out of there without assistance. The assistance was over at Will's car, which he'd managed to turn around, but was now having trouble going forward. With a lot of max traxing, we got the car back on to firm sand, and then did the same for my own car. Everyone was pretty exhausted from digging, so we cracked a coldy and watched the surf for 10 mins, before setting up shelter once again.

One thing was immediately obvious once we started fishing - there were plague proportions of these mini-Samson looking fish (I think they're called Sea Trumpeter, but we just called them shittys - far worse than c*#ts!). They were decimating our baits, and we were requiring a new slab of salmon practically every cast. Just to ensure our baits stood no chance at all, a few sand crabs were thrown in to the mix.

In the late afternoon Will had a large hook up, and sighted a huge shark out in one of the waves but soon busted off with nothing of his rig left. He then had a huge fight with a big black ray, which took some time to get in. Turned out that it was fouled hooked in the wing which would have made things more difficult. Once he was unhooked and released, Will's rod went off, and he pulled a fresh salmon in. Handy, since our baits were getting destroyed by shitties. As night fell, the wind dropped and it was the perfect night fishing weather. We stuck at it for a little while, but only Will got a run, and pulled in a nice Gummy shark which was then cooked up for dinner. You'll note the recurring theme of this day is that Will's rods kept getting runs, whilst every other rod, did not. Actually, that's the theme of the whole week! Kym A and myself are now used to this happening, but Kym D was left shaking his head in disbelief.

Kym wondering when his rod will get a bite

The next day Will must have hooked around 4 stingrays - even they were ignoring all other baits! The most humorous part about this was when Kym D went to gaff the ray in order to pull it up the beach for unhooking. He slipped and fell as a wave came in and sprung up in a panic as a ray swam around him. It wouldn't have been funny if he got a barb in his leg, but he didn't, so it was hilarious!

Will unhappy with the attention of stingrays

It was again a beautiful night for fishing, and we gave it a few hours (it gets dark really late over there) but once again, only Will got a run, and this time bringing in a very respectable Gummy. He hooked another massive Gummy soon after but this one snapped off and we called it a night.

After a quick fish in the morning for nothing more than an undersized mulloway (finally to someone other than Will, who didn't have a rod in at the time!) we ran out of bait, so had decided to head back to Fowlers for our final two nights, to clean up and maybe have one last crack at some salmon and mulloway.

We wanted to catch some fresh salmon for bait when we got back, and then hit up one of the beaches close to Fowleys for a final day session attempting to get a Mully. Unfortunately, the salmon once again weren't coming to the party (I did land a huge squid off though, which was destined for the dinner plate), so we opted to buy some pilchards and check out a spot within the bay itself.. We drove down the beach a number of km's but with an incoming tide and the beach being quite soft up high, we decided not to risk the cars. We turned around and set off to Cabbots beach. When we got there, the water looked very choppy and weedy, and to make matters worse, we'd left the rod holders back at the caravan park.

Plan C (D? E?) was to head back to Scotts beach and flick some lures / cast small baits in the shallows and see if we could get some Whiting or Flathead for dinner. Kym D managed to hook a Flathead on a soft plastic then devastatingly lost it in the shallows. Everyone besides me caught a good sized mullet though, so we all had our contribution for dinner.

Back at the park, we battered up our catch, and chopped up some potatoes into chips and had an awesome final meal of fish, squid, and chips. The only downer was running out of beer by about 6pm, but in hindsight, that was probably a good thing with all the packing still to be done, and a 10 hour drive ahead of us.

All in all, another great Far West trip. Three from three for legal mulloway in trips. It's pity Will has got every single one of them! Myself, I am shooting for the unwanted honour of most FWC trips without catching a legal Mulloway. Planning for 2013 will no doubt begin soon!

Convention Beach - April 2012

Six years ago, three fishermen set off on the inaugural "Gashes" trip and it's actually been nearly four years now that Will, Matt, and myself have battled it out alone for Gashes glory. And by battling it out, I mean drinking a lot of beer and hoping that a fish might take that bait we haven't checked for over an hour. Sani and Dana were also along for the trip in what I assume is the female version of the gashes, some kind of cooking competition.

Since the trip to Convention Beach last Easter proved popular, we set off again this year, a day early to beat the crowds and secure a good spot. That turned out to be a wise choice as camping spots close to the beach are very limited and and we were lucky to get close to the best gutter that formed on the entire stretch of sand too.

Matt must have been raring to have a fish, as it's not very often you see someone with a line in the water before Will.

That little spec on the beach is Matt - very keen to get a line out early!

The rest of us set up tents, put up the tarp for shade, and got lunch under way before setting up the rigs. I was way less prepared than normal - not even any premade rigs.

Spotlight fell off on the bumpy track 

When we finally got our gear in order, Will and I set off in a direction more to the left of Matt, where a good looking gutter had formed amongst the rocks on the beach. It didn't take long for the gutter to produce, and we had a few mid sized salmon landed, and I managed to hook a decent flathead, a fish I always welcome on my hooks! (Apart from that time at Fowlers Bay when we were desperate for a salmon to use as bait)

The next morning, we awoke to strong winds, and our tarp shelter was struggling so much we opted to just take it down. Fine sand was whipping through camp and covering everything in its path making it a fairly uncomfortable day. The best place to be was actually down on the beach where the wet sand wouldn't get picked up so easy. Fishing was hard work, with massive sideways currents causing trouble.. lucky Will and his waders were nearby to rescue my line which became hooked on the rocks.

Amongst the troubles though, we did manage to land a few more salmon, some of which were kept for bait, and some which were destined for the fire that night.

The next morning, the wind had all but gone and we woke up to some stellar weather. Not having much luck on the salmon rod, I decided to chuck out the smaller rod with tiny hooks on, baited with little pieces of salmon flesh. I was quickly rewarded with a few mullet, which had Will racing back to camp to get his small rod too. We both cleaned up fish after fish of a variety of species - Mullet, Tommies, Salmon Trout and I scored another flat head too. One of the mullets was huge, measuring 35cm long and fat like a salmon.

After cooking up lunch, the Salmon decided to show up, and Will got on to them in big numbers. Our fresh mullet and tommy ruff baits were proving to be popular with many Salmon tails poking out the sand. Will even offered one to a nearby fisherman having no luck and he graciously accepted.

I hooked a big trevally on my surf rod - easily the biggest I've ever caught which I was wrapped about - but now I look at the photo, it doesn't seem as big as it did at the time.

Unusual catch on the surf rod

Matt managed to catch a large Flathead, but he took off its head before I could get a picture. The fresh baits were also popular with the local stingray population too, and at one point Will and I were both on to absolute monsters, and it is fair to say they monstered us!

Double Hookup! Me in the background with a bent rod also.

Will was first to break off with a massive CRACK sound, leaving him thinking his rod had snapped in half for a second. It was just his line though, which was now much lower on the spool.

I continued the battle with mine, but after a few minutes more, my line snapped as well, and then we had two spools in need of line replacement between us.

Will later in the trip hooked on to another sting ray, and again lost a lot of line.. this time the stingray swimming off with $50 of braid hanging out its gob. Determined not to lose this war, I switched over to my other reel loaded up with 50lb braid, and didn't have to wait long before the reel was screaming and line peeling off into the distance. I was quietly confident that this time I'd have it beached, but after ten minutes or so, the line snapped again - at least this time I got it all back, bar my leader (quite possibly my knot wasn't as good as I talked it up to be).

Defeated, I retired the 5120, and got back on to the salmon fishing - but the sting ray weren't done yet. My Penn 750ssm with 25lb mono this time cruising out to sea without slowing down. I knew this was a lost cause but picked up and started the fight regardless.. luckily the hooks pulled out quickly after and I got the whole rig back.

Cooking up a storm on the campfire

Its funny that some how I managed to not get a photo of a single salmon caught all weekend. We all got into quite a few, but Will well and truly got the most - he packed the esky before we set off home. They seemed to get bigger as the weekend rolled on too. They'd be up to 5kg by now

Hillocks Drive - January 2012

With Australia Day falling on the Thursday this year, a few of us got the Friday off to make an extra long weekend, and decided to head down to Yorkes. With most of the girls making the effort, it was one of our biggest attended trips in a long time. The plan was to head to Gleesons Landing, but upon arrival, we found all the good camp sites full up, leaving only some exposed sites available. With the wind blowing hard, it wasn't ideal. We'd also need to drive to any fishing destination rather than walking, so we thought instead to head up to Swincers Rock's and see what was going on there.

Swincers was empty except for one caravan, which had taken the only protected spot there. It was really windy here and no one was keen, so after some deliberation, we decided to head to the other side of the coast to the old favourite, Hillocks Drive. At least we knew there would be spots out of the wind there, even if we'd get blown off the beach fishing.

After obtaining permits and making our way along the coast searching for the best available site, Luke managed to get his car hung up on a little ridge between tracks. His rear right tyre wasn't getting any traction, so we got out to give him a push. In hindsight, just putting weight on that side of the car might have been a better option. With Andre at the back pushing, the rear wheel spun freely, until it was pretty much a burnout on dirt.. but the car edged forward before finally getting grip and lurched forward. At that same moment, Andre let out a scream and clutched his leg. We thought a small rock stung him at first, until we saw pulses of blood spurt out from his shin, and a large house brick sized rock near by. The tyre spinning had grabbed hold of this big rock and launched it out the back like one of those tennis ball serving machines.

Andre felt so nauseous from the pain, he even declined an offer of beer - and with that, all chances of him climbing down goat tracks to go fishing went out the window.

We pulled into our chosen camp site, and set up the tents, including Andre's newly purchased taj mahal sized abode, as he watched on, still in pain. I half expected him to jump up and run around once it was done.

Our Campsite - Nice and Shady!

With the wind still howling, it was a much better option to sit around camp and crack a few beers all day long. It wasn't until near sunset that I decided I'd head down to the beach to give the salmon a crack, and Luke, who had consumed a fair portion of a bottle of vodka, joined me. We made our way down the goat track to our favourite salmon location at Hillocks, and set up the rods. We both cast out, and then sat back with a few beers as the sun slowly set. Luke then decided the water looked good for a swim - despite it being rough as anything with the strong wind still strongly blowing sideways up the beach. In his drunkeness he looked like a corpse washing in and out with the tide. After an hour, I managed to get a salmon in, and as it was getting dark, shortly after we decided to head back to camp. I questioned Luke on his ability to climb back up the cliff, to which he replied "I'll be fine" and then stumbled backwards and fell into the sand. After he again rinsed him self off, we made a very shaky climb up the track, but eventually were safely back at camp.

The following morning, I was up before everyone and walking around camp with no one to talk to for awhile, so I decided I may as well hit the beach again. As I was about to leave, both Ali and Sani rose and came down with me, but the wind was blowing so fiercely, it was painful standing there as the sand punished our legs. The girls headed back to camp, and with no fish biting, and my hunger building, I followed a few baits later.

Back at camp, everyone was now up, and after some food was cooked up, a few beers were had to wash it down. As the first beer was emptied and thrown a distance away from the chairs.. it landed nearby a rock - and so a new game was born. "Beer Can Rock" we imaginatively called it - closest beer can to the rock about 6 metres away wins prestige. As a twist, if the wind blows your can away, your can no longer counts. This entertained for hours until Harry rocked up mid afternoon, followed by Matt and Sarah around dinner time. The game was still going strong, and the lead changed often as wind disrupted the cans and sometimes wiped the entire playing field clear. In the middle of the day, a small brown snaked slithered through the middle of camp, and right past my feet, which made me jump about 3 feet off my chair, it's tail disappearing into the bushes as I landed. Everyone adjusted their chairs slightly further away from the bushes after that, along with checking that all tent zips were done up.

An intense game of Beer Can Rock

Alisha displaying the "we're camped here" signal for the late comers

Again, as it approached sunset, we decided to head down for a fish, and this time it was Matt, Harry and myself. We didn't have a great deal of time before dark, and it was a solid little fishing session, as I pulled in 3 more salmon, and Matt and Harry 1 each. Harry's was quite a bit larger than the rest, probably nudging close to 3kg.

Crazy antics around camp with the nights catch

Matt and I had another morning session, and the wind had now died down, but we only got the one fish between us before becoming too hungry and deciding to head back up to camp. With the wind basically gone, back at camp was really warming up - so we decided to go off in search of a big rock pool I had heard about for a swim. As we walked over a dune on our way, without a rod between the lot of us, Matt and I spotted a suspicious looking black circle out in the water. "Couldn't be a salmon school here could it?" "does look like one" and we walked on anyway. As we got onto the beach, we saw a salmon jump out the water and then thought we have to run back to the car to get some rods. By time we got back to the school, we were boiling from the run, and probably preferring to now have a swim, but we launched out lures at this school and they just would not bite! We had about 30 casts at it each, but not even one touch, and as they moved further out we decided it just wasn't to be, and set off after the others who had walked on in search of the rock pool.

When we got there, we were greeted to a deep green water hole, with big rocks to jump off. It must have been about 12 feet deep in places. An awesome way to relax and cool down on a hot day. A few photo's were taken, and a few beers consumed, and then we made the trek back to camp.

Luke enjoying the rock pool

For the final sunset, all the guys, bar Andre, headed down to the beach in hope of another good session, but apart from Luke getting one solid bite that got off, it was all quiet, and before long we were back at camp for the final nights festivities.

Despite a reasonably late night, I was woken early by the sound of Matt heading off to go fishing - trying to nab a few salmon and steal away the Gashes no doubt. With the sun up, I wasn't likely to sleep much longer, so I set off in pursuit... and then we sat on the beach and didn't catch a thing.

Final Morning on my way to fish

And with that, we all set about packing up camp, including the humongous contraption that passes as Andre and Ali's tent, and the car was somehow loaded to the brim again, despite a few less cartons of beer in the back.

After a mostly uneventful 1.5 hours driving, I heard a flapping off some sort coming from my car. Flat tyre? Nope car is feels fine. Then BANG rear tyre explodes and all the rubber gets caught up in the wheel arch, causing the wheel to lock up and slide along until 100 metres later I finally come to a halt on the side of the road. A number of people stopped to see that we were okay, which was nice - but other than having to change a tyre in 35 degree heat in full sun, we were all fine. Finally back on the road and dripping with sweat, we stopped in at Ardrossan for an ice block, and then headed to home, wrapping up another awesome weekend.
 

The Blowout!

Far West Coast - December 2011

Despite the success of last years Far West Coast journey, only three of us made the long trip over this time around. Will, Kym and myself hit the road at 3:30am. We were travelling over the great dunes of Fowlers Bay around 1:30pm, hoping to see big black schools of salmon in the water as we had a year ago.

It wasn't to be though, as all we saw were patches of weed and really rough water. We thought we spotted one small school, so pulled up to have a cast, but with a strong headwind, couldn't cast out far enough. Quite likely that it wasn't salmon in any case, as we were more hopeful than certain. Instead, we headed for the deep gutter in the middle of the beach, and set up camp to cook up lunch.

After eating, we cast out some pilchards in to the deep water, and after an hour or so, Will had a good bite and wound in a big salmon. As he unhooked the salmon, a wave rushed under his feet and the salmon wriggled its way free straight into the rushing out water. Both Will and myself tried to block its path, but it zipped straight through my legs. Will didn't mind as he said there'd be plenty more where that came from. Little did we know at that point how hard it would be to catch a Salmon.

The following day, Will and myself were up early, Will throwing out pilchards, and me casting lures walking down the beach. I managed to hook a flathead in the tail, and whilst ordinarily I would love to catch flathead - I was at this point disappointed it wasn't a salmon. We really needed fresh bait and flathead were destined for the dinner plate.

After the morning fish, we drove around the headland and nearby beaches, still on the look out for schools of salmon, but there were none to be seen. Heading back in to Fowler's, via the beach, I managed to get very seriously bogged, going over some seaweed. I knew it would be soft, but there was only 50 metres of it so I thought we'd be fine. Half way through we bogged down hard.. so out came my newly purchased max trax. They're expensive things, but now I think they're worth every cent! They did only help to move us a few metres at a time, and each time we moved forward, the car skidded sideways towards the water. We got about 3 metres from the end of the weed - firm sand in sight, and the car bogged down hard. The incoming tide was swirling around the right side of the car and I was getting seriously worried. Kym and Will were shovelling weed out the way, and trying to jam the max trax under the tyres, but they would just not grip now. Luckily, a local came driving down the beach and offered to snatch strap us out. He then started reversing his car up toward mine in the most painfully slow manner I could ever imagine. My car is on the brink of drowning, and he was coming back at about 1 km/hr. We got there eventually though and with 3 pulls, the car popped out onto the firm sand. I thanked him profusely and made a standard payment in beer, and then downed a beer quickly myself - thinking just how badly that could have gone.

Speaking to other fisherman about the place, the stories were all the same. Can't find a salmon anywhere. Some had been catching bags of tommies of the jetty - so that was an option for us if we still struggled. We headed back to our Scotts beach camp, where some other fisherman were set up nearby fishing the same gutter as us. We had a chat to them and and as we were talking, Will finally hooks a salmon, and its pretty huge. Unfortunately, its another rogue Salmon, and no more followed - but he did get a couple of flat head to join the one I had caught earlier.

We decide to head to the jetty that night to see if we can get some tommies, but with no berley, we only manage to get two. We really expected that to be much easier! We decided that since we weren't catching any Salmon around Fowler's Bay, we may as well head to the dog fence and not catch salmon there either. But first we'd need to head back to the Kiosk to pick up some pilchards. When we got out of the car, a fisherman at the store recognised Will from the article in Wild Coast... his notoriety is spreading! He suggested we try the shallows at the end of Scotts Beach for small salmon, so we grabbed a few cockles and head that way.

We did manage a few a few small salmon, and some big mullet and even a king george whiting - just undersize. So desperate for good fresh baits, if it was legal I think it would have been bait. With a few more fresh fish in the esky, we headed off to the Dog Fence, and not far up the beach we spy an excellent looking gutter in close. Taking note of the spot, we press on down the beach to our spot from last year (marked in the GPS) but there was no good gutter adjacent the reef like last time, so we headed back to the gutter we first spotted, and set up our shelter.

As dusk approached, Will had a solid bite, and after a short fight pulled up a fiddler ray (and according to my quick google search, also known as a banjo shark, guitarfish, or shovelnose ray - that's a lot of names!). As he was releasing that one, my rod buckled over and I was hooked on to what was sure to be a stingray. Sure enough, a few minutes later I had a large stingray on the beach.

A few hours later, now night time, I hooked another stingray, but this time it felt really big. I was fighting for a long time before slowly making some headway, getting some of my line back onto the reel. It was in close, and the hooks pulled out - probably a good thing in the end, so I could keep fishing without needing to re-tie any hooks. We were now 100 metres down the beach though, and all had to trek through the soft sand back to camp. Not long after settling back in to a beer, Kym's rod goes off and he too has a short battle before beaching another fiddler ray. Not the greatest catch, but the biggest thing Kym has ever caught so he was happy.

As it approached midnight, I had a huge bite, and this time had the headshakes to give me good hope that it wouldn't be another ray. I was fighting the fish for five minutes before the headshakes disappeared and instead just got dead weight.. and in came a big pile of seaweed.  Heart breaking.

When we woke up the next day, the gutter was looking all washed out and sandy - the photo I took still makes it look quite good.. but it might have been a well timed shot.

We fished it hard all day, for no result. As it went dark, we decided to pack it in, and as I wound my line in, I see I've managed to catch a little gummy shark - my first ever, so I was happy with that catch (they're also reportedly very good eating).

The gutter was again looking poor in the morning, and we decided to head back in to Fowler's Bay to once again try to get a good supply of fresh baits. The plan was to set up in the caravan park, and then hit the jetty at night time, and burley up to gather some tommies. Coming back across the big sand dunes to Fowler's Bay was very interesting... the strong winds had blown over most of the track and created big new hills where hills didn't exist before. I was trying to follow previous marks on the GPS, but that proved difficult and I went off course often. Will did manage to spot a knife poking out the sand whilst we were off track though. Perhaps the best catch of the trip so far! We eventually got on the right path and made it through to Fowlers.

After setting up our swags, and cooking up a feed for lunch, we set off in the car to check out all the surrounding beaches. Half hoping to chance upon a school of salmon, and half scoping out potential mulloway spots for the next portion of our trip. We spent a good part of the day doing this, before heading back to Fowlers to execute our "catch tommy ruff" plan. As night set in, the wind was howling, and we rugged up with multiple layers to brave the conditions out on the jetty. Even armed with berley, after a few hours without a single bite, we threw in the towel and walked back to the caravan park to get some sleep. Plan B was to hit the rock ledges around the headland the following morning, and at the very least, catch some rock cod and other small fish we could use for bait.

We arose early and jumped in the Surf, arriving at our rock ledge around 8am. We berleyed up and and before long had a couple of tommies in the esky - it was a good start. Kym pulled some luderick, which we also kept, but the fishing slowed down rather quickly. We could see loads of fish in the water attacking the berley, but they just weren't interested in taking our baits. Just when hope was fading, the water turned completely black right at our feet, and I sighted some yellow fins and immediately called it as kingfish - wishful thinking - it was thousands of salmon. This would be great for our bait supply. Will hooked on and his rig busted off instantly. All our surf gear was up the hill in the car and we didn't know if we'd have time to get them before the school moved on. We quickly tied on lures to our light outfits, and cast away. Pulling the salmon up 3 metres from the water was quite a challenge on light gear, but soon enough there were half a dozen on the deck, and the water still bubbling. It was as simple as dropping the lure straight down and then jigging it up. We lost probably twice the amount we landed as they dropped off when trying to pull them up onto the rocks. The school then disappeared and Will raced off around to the next point to see if they were there and soon he was yelling for us to get over there. Dolphins were rounding the school in close and we continually hooked up, cast after cast, in one of the greatest salmon fishing sessions we've ever experienced. The light gear made it a real challenge and awesome fun. The seals and dolphins zipping around made great viewing too. We kept around 18 fish for bait and then had a good catch and release session, before we were too exhausted to fish on. We left them biting, and headed back to the car - now ready to move on to the next phase of our trip - well armed with fresh baits. We had to work hard to find them, but we got there eventually!

Back in the fishing cleaning area at the caravan park, one of the employees came over and made the odd statement that the fish cleaning area was not for cleaning "lots" of fish - only for people to clean a few fish here and there. Quite a bizarre statement we thought, when a lot of their customers would be coming purely for the fishing. She gave us a garbage bag to take our frames to the local dump (which is quite a sight.. fish skeletons everywhere!).

We headed off to our next location, and searched the coast up and down looking for a nice gutter that we could fish for the remainder of our trip. We finally settled on one that was slightly further out than desired but looked good, and we could get a camp site in close by.

There was a strong headwind  and huge waves crashing on the shore, causing havoc with our rigs. It was hard to cast far enough to reach the gutter, and the surging water constantly pulled the grapple sinkers out and sent them sideways up the beach. Regardless of all of those troubles, within an hour of setting up, Will had a good bite, and had a quick battle before sliding a very nice sized snapper up on to the beach. My frustration with my grapple sinkers rose as the thin wire continually bent straight - sending me digging through all my tackle looking for one with decent strong wire on it.

The next day it wasn't to be an issue though, as the wind swung around and was blowing from behind us, making casting out in to the gutter an easy task. Both myself and Will were up early and Will soon opened the days account with a nice little gummy shark. It went quiet for awhile as we cooked breakfast, but about an hour and a half later, Will again got a solid bite on his line, and again, brought in a very nice snapper. This one was a monster from the surf.. weighing in at 8kgs.

No more than ten minutes later, Will is sliding Snapper number 2 up onto the sand, and we could now sense that there must be a school of them patrolling the gutter. I ran down the beach to where my rod was, to change over baits, only to pick up the rod and find it go heavy with an obvious big fish on the end. I wound in a good 82cm snapper myself. That was 3 great snapper in the space of 25 minutes. Unbelievable fishing from a beach!

Kym found himself snagged in the gutter, and ended up breaking his line off, losing a few hundred metres of line in the process, and he set off to respool his reel. I probably would have chucked on the spare with the action as good as it was! But, things did slow down for awhile, until I noticed a good bite on my rod, but when I wound in, I noticed my hooks baitless, and a whole heap of line tangled about mine. It was Kym's rig that he'd busted off 15 minutes earlier! I could still feel a fish fighting, so Will and I tried to bring the fish in by hand, using our shirt sleeves to not lose any fingers. We had it coming in, but without any drag, the fish got free. What a catch that would have been. Kym was wondering if the opportunity to join the snapper club had passed, but about an hour and a half later, at around 11:30am, Will again pulled in a snapper. This set up a good little chain of action, with Kym finally getting a solid bite on his new rig, and having a good battle with something solid. After a few minutes, we sighted a bronze fin cruise through the shallows, and soon he had it up on the beach for a quick photo before releasing.

Then, it was my turn again as the rod bent over hard and I quickly struck into a good fish. I felt the solid thumps of a snapper trying to make its way deep into the gutter. I knew it was something really good, but did not expect to see a snapper and a gummy shark appear in the wash. I'd managed to this time snag one of Will's lost rigs, which had a gummy shark attached - along with the snapper on my hooks, it all came up the beach. I'll claim that one as a double header! It was still before noon and we'd just had one of the best days fishing of our lives.

The action wasn't over yet though, with Will again landing a snapper in the early afternoon, and then myself catching a gummy shark (on my own hooks this time). It started drizzling later in the day, with rain setting in right up until night time - but it didn't deter the fish, with Will landing his final Snapper of the trip. All of the Snapper caught went around the 6.5kg mark - with the exception of Will's earlier 8kg fish. It was hard to be disappointed with a stumbling across a school of such fish, but Far West Coast is about chasing dream mulloway, and we were yet to land one even close to legal.

Leave it up to Will to remedy this "problem", as in the early evening, as the rain was really coming down, he sprinted from our shelter to grab his rod and set the hooks. Soon enough, he had a 94cm mulloway in hand, and was dancing around in the rain as happy as anything. Those two day fishing were some of the finest.

Kym checked the weather reports on his phone, and it looked like the rain wasn't just setting in, it was going to get a whole lot worse the following day. With a bag limit of snapper, an almost bag limit of gummy shark, and a fresh mulloway all filleted in the fridge, we decided we'd be better off hitting the road for home, rather than spending our last day getting drenched in thunderstorms.

We woke up to somewhat fine conditions, but there was a massive thunderstorm brewing in the distance and we scurried to get the car packed. We didn't make it as huge drops of rain started pelting us, drenching us from head to toe as we got the last bits of gear in to the car. The whole way home we were driving through massive downpours, making visibility extremely poor, but we got there eventually! The total tally for the trip was 8 Snapper, 1 7kg Mulloway, 5 Gummy Sharks, 1 Bronze Whaler, 4 Flathead, a few dozen Salmon and a bunch of small fish when we were desperate for bait in the first half of the trip. It certainly started slow, and once again shows that just because its FWC, doesn't mean the fish will be there.. but persistence paid off. The 60 pound mulloway still alludes us though, and we'll be back chasing it again next year.

Coorong - August 2011

When worked approved a day off, I very quickly sent out the email to organise a quick trip away to the Coorong, and a few days later, Will, Kym and myself are on the way to the 3rd Gashes outing of the year.

Good reports were coming from the area between 42 mile crossing and tea tree crossing, so we were on the look out for a good gutter in this region. On the way in, the water was very rough and churned up, making spotting any gutter very difficult. We eventually settled on a spot though, and backed the car in to one of the dune cut outs - number 32!

Baits were soon soaking in the water, and Kym and myself set about making a shelter, just in case the predicted showers came through. Turns out it wasn't needed as the weather was brilliant all weekend. Will had a salmon on the board early and Kym and I soon followed. We took a few for eating, a few for bait and the rest were returned.



I got a solid bite on my rod and struck hard to latch on to something decent. It's fight was short lived though and I soon had a 60cm+ mulloway on the beach.  A good size, but not quite enough to land into the keeper range. Will landed a couple more salmon, as I pulled in a couple more undersized mulloway - another around the 65cm mark, and then a couple of smaller types - which I am showing here - struggling to lift its enormous weight!

Will got a solid bite on his line, and the drag peeled off quickly. There was definitely something solid on the end and we were thinking a mully or perhaps a gummy shark. As it came in to view Will called it for a legal mulloway, so I raced back to the car to get the brag mat. It came up devastatingly close to legal. 74 cm. So, back in to the surf it went. There was obviously quite a few small mulloway about though, so hopes were high that one would nudge over the 75cm mark. The wide angle lens makes it look huge.

As the sun was going down, we decided to get the fire going and prepare for a bit of night fishing. As is becoming a bit of normal practice for the Coorong, I caught a nice little elephant shark - which went straight into the Esky after a terrible attempt at filleting. Certainly a great first days fishing. The Gashes leader board would have been pretty close at that point. Will had the most Salmon, and a very near legal Mully. I had a mixed bag of around 4 Salmon, 4 undersized Mulloway, and the Elephant Shark. Kym was lagging behind with a couple of Salmon.

The next day we were a bit slow to rise, but Will had a line in the water earliest and was rewarded with a couple more Salmon. Seaweed begun to be a problem with masses of it floating in the waves. I took that as a sign to go back to sleep for awhile - only to wake up an hour later and most of the weed had already moved on. It was still a bit of a problem but not so bad that we couldn't fish.

I only managed one Salmon for the entire day whilst Will pulled in at least half a dozen more. Kym got a couple more too, which meant we had a few to take home, and a few more for bait. Fisheries paid a visit to camp in the middle of the day, arriving on quad bikes which looked like great fun. They asked if we had caught anything and Will replied "I threw back a 74cm Mulloway... which I'm now very glad I did". Apparently some fisherman further up the beach had landed a legal Mulloway that day too.

Night fishing was always going to be a chore with bits of weed floating around, but no one expected the scale of knot that we ended up with. Both of Will's lines, and my line some how got in to a 3 way tangle which we had no choice but to cut off and lose hundreds of metres of line. We gave up on that idea and retired to the fire and got stuck into some beers instead. A good choice.

The final morning was very quiet on the fishing front. Will pulled in a Salmon and another undersized Mulloway (making I believe 7 in total for the weekend). We cooked up a breakfast and were soon on our way home. Will grabbing another Gashes win.