Far West Coast - November 2015

My first far west trip as a 'guest'. Quite a luxury I must say. This was a very last minute organised trip, and although we told ourselves we've done it so many times before, we could just pack and leave on a whim, I knew we'd forget some important items. This time, it was anything remotely capable of cleaning dishes! Ah well, we're used to eating filth.

So, it was a usual 3am departure, and a semi-usual stop at the Penong Pub for lunch prior to hitting the beach. Unfortunately, as it the case more often than not, the pub wasn't serving lunch. The hot dog from the servo was pretty good though!

We arrived on Scotts beach mid afternoon, and spotted a school of salmon out the back of the breakers. Way to far out to cast lures to, we soaked a few pilchards in the big gutter mid way around the bay, hoping the school would at some stage come closer. They didn't, so we decided to go set up camp around on the point.

Two new Gashes beasts!

It was a fairly early night after the early start that morning, which meant I was up on sunrise and hoping to sight a school of salmon in front of us. That wasn't the case, so we had to do bait collection the hard way... catching the odd tommy ruff here and there and patiently awaiting any salmon to swim on by. By mid morning, a few other fisherman had gathered and were fishing all around the point. Normally this might be quite annoying, but everyone kept a good distance from each other, and it worked well.

It turned out to actually be useful, as the guys out on the farthest point would hook up and then we'd know salmon were on their way around, and one by one everyone (or almost everyone) would get a hook up. Dropping big fish at the waters edge was annoyingly common, but Kym was having greater success with a pilchard hanging below a float.

The guy in the blue shirt was a champ, helping people land Salmon with his crab net

Talking to the other guys, it seemed that everyone was headed towards the dog fence. This got us concerned on the best gutter being taken before us, so we decided to get 12 salmon in the esky and take off before the others. We ended up with 15 and after a quick stop at Fowlers to grab more ice, scooted off towards Nundroo.

The track into the dog fence has not got any better over the years. An hour of dust, bumps and rattles, and we finally hit the coast. There wasn't much point worrying about missing out on the best gutter, as with the amount of fisherman on the beach, that was surely taken days ago. I've fished the dog fence and not seen another person the entire time I was out there - but this time, people everywhere!

Choosing from the remaining gutters was a difficult decision, nothing really standing out as brilliant (I suppose it would have been taken if it did), but we found a decent gutter adjacent an area where we could park the cars safely above the high tide mark.

We parked, and got out the car to almost be blown away down the beach - it was blowing an absolute gale. We setup a bit of a wind break, but sand was still ripping through camp and covering everything in a fine layer of sandy dust. Thankfully, the wind dropped off as it got later in the arvo, and fishing became possible. At this point, I ticked off a long time fishing and camping goal: we had an icey pole out on the beach, an hour away from any sign of civilisation. Since we ended up bringing two vehicles, we had one fridge on freeze, and the other keeping the beers cold.

However, it was the next day that would prove to be a good day for fishing. Right around midday, I got a blistering run on a full tommy ruff I had sent out. Unfortunately, I did not know about this, as I was walking back through the dunes after having a crap. As I got sight of the beach, I saw Kym holding my rod and waving at me. Luckily I was now a few kgs lighter and made good time floating across the sand down to the beach. As Kym handed over the rod, I saw that there must have been about 200 metres of line out to sea! I pulled on the line and just got heavy weight, then after getting a bit of line back in, it went on another run, straight out. It then sat still, dead heavy. I picked it as a big stingray, for sure.

After 10 minutes of slowly retrieving this beast in to the shallows, I saw a tail flash through the water, and Kym said what I was thinking "That's a mulloway!". Only catching a quick glimpse, I thought it wasn't that big, although the weight on the line should have told me otherwise. We called out to Will to grab the gaff from camp and come down. Another few minutes of carefully working the fish through the shallows, Will had the gaff in and slid it up the sand. It was a solid fish! A few high fives, and then a measure on the brag mat showed it at 133cm. Easily my largest fish, and our biggest Mulloway caught yet on these trips, in both length and weight.

It weight just under 24kg (~52lbs) and was slippery as anything making picking it up for a photo incredibly hard. Still, photos must be had!

After 15 minutes of what can only be described as a poor filleting attempt by me, Kym had enough and took matters into his own hands. He did a fine job, apart from stabbing me in the hand.

A few (many) celebratory beers were had, and before long, the sun was setting. It had calmed right off by Tuesday night, and we all had baits out as it went into darkness. It doesn't get dark until quite late that far west, so it was probably close to midnight when Will got a bite and then brought in a mully which just tipped over the 1 metre mark.

Less than an hour later, he caught an impressive gummy shark to add to the freezer (which was now struggling with a shit load of fish fillets in it).

By this point, I had celebrated my own fish far too hard and was struggling to keep awake (or walk, talk etc) so I decided to call it night.

Kym trod off into the dunes trying to get phone reception off one of the higher points, and meanwhile, Will was hooking onto another big fish. Somehow, he managed to get it up onto the beach with the help of a good wave. He came back to camp to get assistance (photos) but no manner of yelling at my swag was waking me from my slumber. Kym returned from his unsuccessful phone reception hike in time to grab the camera and shoot off a few good pictures.

Late night mully for Will

Everyone was a bit slow to get going on the Wednesday after a big Tuesday fishing. Some sea weed was starting to wash around in the gutter which made things difficult, but a few salmon were caught amongst it, which was well needed fresh baits.

On the Thursday, the weed situation was still bothersome, and our salmon fillet baits were looking worse for wear. We were pretty certain that no mulloway was going to want these rank old baits, so catching some freshies became a priority. Right around high tide, I landed a solid salmon, and immediately cut it into baits and chucked one Kyms way. Almost before I'd finished cleaning up the baits and putting them on ice, I hear Kym celebrating and turn around to see another mully on the beach. This one went 93 cm and 7kg. It meant that we'd now all landed a legal mulloway for the trip - a first in all our adventures.

Will caught an absolute stonker salmon, weighing in at 4.7kgs which added to our fresh bait supply. The only problem was keeping a bait out in the water without seaweed getting caught up in the line.

The weed was problematic, but the sunset that night was pretty spectacular. Very bright purple, red and orange sky. Looked great.

Friday was weed, weed and more weed. By mid afternoon we were over it and contemplating a move back to Fowlers. We'd had too many drinks by that point though, so decided to see how it looked in the morning. Randomly, some kind of stunt plane made a low pass over our camp site. Not sure where it came from or where it was going!

Saturday was our last full day, and the weed was still annoying us in the gutter, so we packed up camp and headed back towards Fowlers Bay. A few hours packing, a few hours driving / inflating tyres, and it was lunch time by time we arrived.

We cooked up a feed in the camp kitchen and went back out to Fowlers point just to see if we could have some fun on a Salmon school. There weren't any schools about, but Kym and Will managed to get a couple each still. I also sniped a squid that Kym brought in close on his pilchard - bait for next trip now.

Before we know it, it was getting towards dinner time - so back to the caravan park for a well overdue shower and to get ready for the big drive home. A good trip - everyone happy with legal mullies.

FWC Video Snippet

About a year late :)

Coorong - August 2015

We're back! After a long fishing hiatus, partially caused by some illness in my family (all good now), and mostly caused by a recent addiction to playing golf, we hit Salt Creek for the first time in nearly a year.

Will's old fishing mobile was sidelined for some TLC, so Will, Kym and I crammed into the Patrol early on Friday morning and headed south-east.

We hit the beach a few hours before high tide and motored on through some soft and very low parts of the beach. High tide would easily wash over the tracks so it was important to get through quickly and without trouble.

We set up camp up towards tea tree crossing, in a little cut out in the dune, opposite some nice looking water.

Will was on the board with his first cast catching a nice salmon. He followed up with another and also an undersized mully. I had another soapy myself, and Kym was amongst the action too. The wind was icy at first, but either it warmed up a bit, or we just got used to it, as it seemed more comfortable as the sun went low.

With the wind and seaweed being kind to us, the situation begged for a bit of night fishing. Having not fished the beach for so long, we dug around looking for glow sticks and led lights. Old glow sticks had lost their glow, and Will was stuck with one of the flashy led's which are more annoying than helpful. Here's a link to Ultimate fishing's solid green led lights. They're an Aussie seller and shipped out to me quickly.

Whilst we eventually got well setup with lights, chairs, and beers.... the fish didn't come to play, and for me, the night was cut short when I had about 100 metres of line get tangled up into a ball. Too cold to bother tieing new rigs, I decided to retire to the fire, and the others thought that was a pretty good idea too.

Breakfast was cooked on the fire, due to me forgetting to bring any cooking instruments. The seaweed mostly held off so a full day fishing was enjoyed, with a few more salmon landed here and there throughout the day.

We managed to get in a bit of golfing practice in the worlds biggest bunker too. Above is Kym styling some nice golfing attire whilst practicing chipping (no one managed to get a ball into the bucket).

A massive whale rib bone had washed up on the beach. What a seriously impressive animal this would have been. You could have stood up in it's belly with room to spare.

The weather report was showing big winds picking up overnight, so we decided to pack up the shelter and be ready for an early departure to get off the beach at low tide.

Instead, we woke up to some great weather, and I snapped this picture - before 5 minutes later the clouds darkened overhead and got rained on pretty hard. It's been many months since a gashes outing, but things continued as normal - Will easily catching more fish than Kym and I and getting another engraving on the trophy.

Smoky Bay - January 2015

When the opportunity for some free accommodation and access to a 34 foot boat at Smoky Bay was raised, a plan to get away in January was quickly put together, with myself, Kym, and Will. Sani's mum (Judy) and partner (Craig) had just purchased a seaside holiday house for rental. With the luxury of a roof and electricity, the girls and newborn were also in tow. Because of the prospect of doing some off shore Tuna fishing, many hundreds of dollars was pumped into the local fishing tackle stores around Adelaide in preparation. Soon enough, the day arrived and we were on our way.

We all headed off west early on a Saturday morning, heading through Port Augusta around 8am. Unusually, no one was overly hungry for breakfast, so we kept on the road, passing Will and Dana who were held up with one of many baby feeding sessions for their drive.

Upon arrival in Smoky, we had a meet and greet with Judy and Craig, and then unloaded the car at our beach front accommodation. The bay is a lot bigger than I expected. Soon enough, beers were cracked, and we settled in for the afternoon. We had all week, so fishing could wait.

The following day we found out that the big boat was yet to be launched, and we'd have to wait for a big midnight tide that evening to get it in. Luckily, Will had towed his tinny along too, as we were keen to get out on the water ASAP.

We'd all forgotten to pick up some bait along the way, so we headed to the General Store to grab a few bags of cockles. At $18 a kilo, we settled on just two bags. We'd need to make these count.

The water was quite choppy with a strong wind, so we headed out across the bay towards the island on the other side. It was somewhat more protected here, and made for comfortable fishing. We caught many trumpeters, some of which were kept for bait, but also a load of tommies, and the odd KGW hitting the deck here and there too.

In what could be a first time ever.. Will struggled to land many keepers, and by the end of the boating trip (caused by running out of cockles) we had 14 KGW in the esky, with Kym and I getting about half dozen each. Finally Will feels, if even just a little bit, what it is normally like fishing with him! Of course, that wouldn't last.

We trolled back into shore, and managed a good size snook along the way too.

Afterwards, Will took the girls for a spin on the sea biscuit out in front of the house, with many spectacular crashes in the rough water.

Apparently, Sunday is the main day for getting a meal at the local community club, so we strolled (you can stroll to every location in Smoky Bay) over there at 6pm and had some good country grub. I had the rump steak which was satisfyingly large!

Craig had to head back to the farm to round up some sheep for loading onto a truck the following morning. It is about a half hour drive, so Kym and I grabbed a roady and went with him to provide some 'help'. I'm not sure that we were in any sense useful, but the sheep got to their required location eventually.

The next task in this action packed day, was the launching of the big boat (the K-LEE) at midnight. This was quite a spectacle, with a few tractors, flashing orange lights, and many observers (us). She went in smoothly though, and that was it for the day.

Will and I were up early, and without much to do, we decided to see if we could pull some razor fish from the shallows to use as bait. A quick drive, and a decent walk out to the weed line, and we got onto a good patch. We had a bag limit in the esky, and back at the house within the hour. An awesome and free bait supply.

Whilst shelling them all, Will jumped backwards and let out some four letter word as an octopus squirmed it's way out of the shell. I would have done the same, but it was pretty funny. I thought this would be a good bait, but Sani decided to rescue it and put it back in the sea. Probably had a random mulloway come along and snaffle it soon after.

It was heating up, and the waters much calmer, so the sea biscuit came out once again, and plans were put in place to give the K-LEE a test run in the evening, to make sure all was well before any off shore trips were attempted.

Everyone piled onto the K-Lee just as the sun was setting, and we steamed out to a snapper patch out in the middle of the bay. The weather was awesome, but the big snapper didn't come to play. A few babies were caught, and I managed another snook, but that was it. We headed back in around 11pm.

Tuesday was a new moon, and I had pegged this day as a day to head a bit further west and do some beach fishing for mulloway. The weather had other ideas however, as I woke up to white caps everywhere across the bay, and the wind howling against the windows of the house. All fishing plans were cancelled.

Instead, we went for a drive out to Point Brown and surrounds, checking out the local scenery. Whilst at Acramans Creek, we couldn't resist chucking a few lures, but only came up with a few shitties instead. To make matters worse, the handle on Kym's daiwa reel came undone somewhere along the drive and fell off. We drove back slowly with eyes peeled on the edge of the dirt road, but it didn't materialise.

On Wednesday, it was still windy, but we were still determined to get out and have a fish. It was still too rough for any offshore activities, so we went out in the tinny, and tucked in close to the land as we tried for a few more whiting. We managed a couple in various patches, but couldn't get onto any consistently. Many more tommies went on ice.

Wednesday night was happy hour at the club, so another walk was had, despite the plentiful number of beers we had in the fridge at the house! It's good to mix it up though, right?

Thursday was the day. Forecast for calm conditions all day long! We all started sorting through our tuna lures and gear, putting reels on tuna rods, and just generally doing anything tuna related at all whilst we waited for everyone to ready themselves for the boating trip out to the offshore islands.

We were motoring out to sea, and then disaster struck. The engine made some horrible noises and blew a ton of smoke out, and we came to a halt, adrift at sea. Turns out it was a blown turbo, so we were able to move along at a very slow pace, albeit back towards shore, rather than out to sea. Craig's son Lee was also on board, and put us on top of the snapper patch on the way back. At least we'd still be able to try for some decent fish so it wasn't a total loss.

Plenty of shitties still caused problems, but Will got a solid bite on his rod before pulling in a nice little snapper, weighing in at 2.5kgs. Hopes were high we'd all get onto a few, but that was the only one.

My rod sitting in the holder on the back of the boat got a nice bite followed with a run, and I had a good battle on my hands. I worked it around to the side of the boat, and up towards the surface and spotted a good size gummy shark. It would have been my biggest gummy to date, only, it went on a run back into the depths, and my line went slack. I wound in to discover my hook gone entirely, but not bitten off. I usually tie my hook to a short bit of trace line, and then onto a barrel swivel which is attached to a dropper loop on the main trace. In this instance, I neglected the barrel swivel thinking it wouldn't be necessary from a boat (less twisting than surf fishing was my reasoning). Without the swivel, the knot must have been far weaker though.

I tied a new knot on, this time with swivel, and cast it back out. I didn't have to wait long, and it was on again! I made the comment to others that I hope this wasn't on the top hook, because that one remained swivelless. A few seconds later, my line went slack, and I found my entire top hook and line gone. Damn my laziness!!

After copping much shit from the other crew members (and deservedly so) I tied on a new top hook, in proper fashion, baited up again (fillets of snook were doing the damage) and cast out. Again, I was still holding my rod in hand when line starting peeling off quickly! This was too good to be true I thought, now confident in my newly tied hooks. Only... this fish lacked head shakes, and it was quickly becoming apparent I was onto a stingray. With my new Symetre 4500 and 20lb braid, I wasn't exactly sure how it would handle something like a sting ray, but it was doing a decent job of bringing it in towards the boat. That is, until it got close, and the sting ray spun around and shot straight to the surface, leaped a clear foot out of the water, and then shot off into the distance at 100 miles an hour. Extremely cool to witness! Except, now my mind was thinking "this power pro braid shit is not cheap" and I had quite a lot of it out to see. I wound up the drag hard, in hope it would break down at the trace, and even with the drag on full pressure, the stingray continued on his merry way. It did tire though, and after some time, I had it back at the boat, gaffed, and even got my hooks back before it was released and swam off happily once again.


I'm not sure if it hung around, or perhaps some other big gummies or snapper were about, but Will and Kym both had solid hookups which snapped off after not much battle. Probably poorly tied hooks (I have to get one back).

Will was fishing with two rods, one resting up against the guard rail on the boat. It was only a whiting setup, but something big must have smashed into the bait, because the whole rod, reel, and everything went flying up and over the rail, and dove down into 7 metres of water. Not much chance of getting that one back. Still, Will put a positive spin on it "I can go fishing rod shopping now!".

He did catch a few nice flathead though, and Kym also caught a nice flathead, though a fair bit smaller. I forgot to photo Will's prior to it being filleted!

On the Friday, we decided to take a drive out to Davenport Creek. I had been there many years ago and was quite impressed with it, so wanted to show the others. Unlike last time, I managed to pick the correct tracks to get into the main part of the creek. It would be a great swimming spot, but it was too cold, even for Sani, who swims in basically any weather.

We chucked a line in for awhile, and Kym and Sally both caught a few small flathead. Sally hooked onto something significant, but it dived down under the ledge, and never came back out. Could have been a really solid flatty - spewing not to land it! Other than that, it was just a couple of tommies, and a lone mullet.

We decided back at the house that the following day, to be our last before heading home, would be an early start and out on the boat. Kym, Will, and I set alarms for pre-dawn.

Out on the boat ramp, before the sun had made any sign of coming up, we nearly got carried out to sea by the millions of mosquitos that had come out. On our last day, the wind had dropped off completely, and the mosquitos followed. We headed out across the bay just as it started getting light, and it was like glass out there! We went to the channel between mainland and island, and got not much. We went out around the oyster leases to some broken bottom, and got not much. We went across to some spot which may or may not have been where we'd previously got whiting, and got not much. So, eventually, we decided to just go sit on the edge of the deep channel and see what happens. A few tommies, and a few undersize whiting happened. And then, an entire family of stingrays happened!

Will caught two singrays, and myself and Kym one each in some arm breaking action. Was good to see all our gear holding up to these battles... unfortunately not getting testing on something we could put in the esky. Bait soon ran out again, and we headed back in, with just a few tommies in the esky. Not a great session by any means.

We got back and head out to Craig's farm, where he offered us a scenic flight in his very own light plane. It was made in the 60's and it was quite windy out there... but what the hell! Everyone went up (in two flights) and saw some pretty amazing sights from high in the sky.

Back in Smoky, we went on some community fund raising dinner, that involved walking around the town to various houses and eating what they'd set up for everyone. The main course was some massive meat pies which were pretty awesome. After eating mine, and some of Sani's I was so full that I could barely fit in another beer. I struggled on and got it down though.

Utterly exhausted from the early start, we hit he sack early, and the next morning headed home! Kym and I agreed that Will's snapper/flathead combo was the Gashes winning move, and he is now back on the winners list with the first of 2015.

Hillocks Drive - December 2014

Back to Hillocks for our third Christmas break trip in a row. With 9 people, and 6 dogs, and 4 cars. it was our busiest campsite in quite some time. With Hillocks now charging a pricey sum of $31 per car per night, they did quite well out of us!

Unfortunately, the western end of the property remains closed off, so we had booked a site as close to the fence as we could get (actually, it was just the last of the decent sites left to book).

Kym & Sally (and Dog-Ellie) left from north east Adelaide, Will & Dana (& Baby-Ellie) left from the southern Adelaide hills, and Sani and I (and our hounds) left from Port Hughes after visiting Mum. With no coordination at all other than "meet you there in the afternoon", we miraculously arrived within 2 minutes of each other! Kym's brother Scott, his partner Kate, and his daughter Taylor were all to arrive the following day.

We set up camp and settled in for lunch and a few beers, and quickly got into super relaxation mode. We decided that fishing could wait until Prime Time, around dusk, and that is when we loaded up our gear and made the hike to our usual beach fishing area.

Will, Kym and I all got two rods out into the water each, and it didn't take long for my rod to get a bite, and in came a nice salmon, probably around 1kg or so. As I was digging a hole in the sand for that one, my other rod had bites, and salmon number 2 came sliding in soon after. I got my first rod back out, and before I could bait my second rod again, another fish was on! I wound this one in to find that I had in fact a double header. Four quick fire salmon on the beach - the plan was to use these for bait over the coming nights.

Will soon had a couple landed himself, including a nice sized Sweep from the surf. Kym lagged behind, but finally managed to get on the leader board with another salmon.

By the time some dolphins cruised by and seemingly spooked all the salmon, we'd landed (and released half) about 15 salmon and a sweep. Will and I evenly split, and Kym still on one. We had some big baits out in the water as the sun set over the water, and soon after, Will had a massive run. He was hooked on to something with headshakes, but it snapped off after a few minutes. Possibly rubbed line across the rocks, or maybe a shark whipping line with it's tail. We fished for awhile longer, but it was all quiet, so we headed back to camp.

The following day marked the beginning of the wind. The entire day it was blowing pretty hard, and even back at camp the dunes weren't providing much protection. Down on the beach would have been near on impossible to fish, so we chilled out around camp for the entire day, and helped out Scott with his tent and other setting up once he arrived. Then perhaps the highlight of the trip, Kym & Sally making pizza's on the Weber Q! We're heading into "glamping" territory here.

The next day was more of the same. Some reinforcements of the shade setups were made, and Will & Dana decided to go for a drive to explore around the foot. The rest of us went on a hike in search of a swimming rock pool out on the point. It was far too windy and cold for swimming, but Sani was keen regardless. The walk included a particularly tough climb up a steep dune, so by time we got there, the pool was tempting. Still, the wind ripping through there said no.

Still, the girls had a quick dip before we headed back to camp - arriving just after Will & Dana returned. We convinced ourselves that the wind had subsided enough to go for a fish. Knowing that this was likely to be a shortlived adventure, we packed light and hiked down.

Indeed, the swell was too large, and seaweed to common to put in much effort at all. We headed back to camp right on sunset.

The next morning we went for a walk to to beach without any gear, just to check on the situation. Big swells were still hammering the beach, so Kym suggested that we drive over to the other side of the foot at Point Turton and have a fish there instead. All agreed, and we were on our way.

The water at Point Turton was flat and calm, and many boats were out on the water. Stark contrast to over the Marion Bay side. The jetty was packed with families fishing, though not much looked to be getting caught. We headed onto the jetty armed with squid jags and a few lures, and spent a few hours flicking those out into the water. Sally and Scott both managed a squid each, but other than that it was all quiet. We grabbed lunch at the bakery and headed back to camp, which was still blowing a gale. Thankfully our setup had stayed in tack though.

Another evening beach fish was had, and this time I managed to hook a small salmon. It was of the just legal variety, so immediately got sent back out to sea on triple ganged hooks. I had hopes for hooking whatever large fish Will had on the first night, but after many hours of nothing, we threw in the towel.

It was a late night around camp and with the drive home the following day, I assumed that was me done for fishing. I might have held a slender lead in the Gashes but it wasn't conclusive. The dogs had other ideas however, waking me up at 7am. No one else was stirring, so I decided to take the rods down to the beach for one last effort, hoping to take some fresh fish home (not for me, of course).

I half expected to see Will already down there fishing, but the beach was empty. The wind had dropped right off and it was now great fishing conditions. I managed to only get two more fish, before the sun started roasting me and I thought I better get back to camp to help pack up.

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!).