Wallerawang - March 2010

Wallerawang

Date: Saturday, 26-28 March 2010

Forecast:

Some of our members went to Wallerawang on Friday while most turned up on Saturday. Mac & Murray fished the rivers where Murray outscored Mac 6 to 3. The rest mostly fished the dams where Jeff bagged 16 Trout.

Swansea - February 2010

Swansea

Date: Sunday, 21 February 2010

Forecast: Fine; Wind, E to NE @15 to 20kts; Temp, Air 22-30, Water 24; Tide, High Low ; Seas; 1 to 1.5 mts, Swell ENE 1.5 mts, Moon, Half, Barometer; 1014, steady.

It promised to be a beautiful day. The sky was clear, the forecast was good, the venue also good. The only downside the tide which was due to be at low around 50 minutes after kickoff. However such trifles don't deter real men, men like Ken Colmer, Damain Webber, Mac Lyall, Jeff Medhurst, Gary Kent, Col Breeze, Wayne Auld & Rob Harwood. They not only rocked up, they brought their boats so that others might share in the bounty of the sea, others like Mitch Colmer, Murray Keating, John Robertson, Jim Hyatt, Craig Parker, John Roberts, Boe Boesen & yours truly. The quarry this trip was Bonito, otherwise known locally as 'Horsies', Frigate Mackerel as well as Kingfish. Or whatever, fussy we aint. The mood was up-beat, Gary particularly so. He wore his lucky Hawaii shirt & was raring to go. His assigned swab *Steve Bunney was late but he hung back after the rest of us left in order to give the late one every chance to clamber aboard. As it turned out the one he was waiting for couldn't make it but Bo did. Bug's loss was Bo's gain. *It turned out Steve did register as a non-starter, the mistake was mine. In my defense I urge people who can't make it to ring or email the trip organiser, not me. Meanwhile the rest of us were dots on the horizon. The tide & sea made the bar a touch tricky but nothing serious. Out on the blue it was every man for himself as we searched for sign of fishy activity. The birds were conspicuous by their absence. There were no tell tale splashes, no line of hungry mouths chomping away, not even a cluster of boats to blowfly. It was looking grim. Wayne & I motored slowly north, hunting. We scanned for birds etc but our first sign was something far more subtle, it was nervous water. Nervous water looks a bit like a " Cats Paw ", that sudden isolated rippling of water that sailors know heralds a sudden wind gust of short duration. In this case the reason for the water looking agitated or 'nervous' was the presence of marine life, be it small fish or other marine creatures such as zoo-plankton. In other words, prey. And pray we did. Our prayers were answered when we spied small splashes indicating feeding fish. Closer inspection revealed the splashers [ splashees ? ] as Cowanyoung AKA Yakkas or Yellow tail. While naturally disappointed they weren't Tuna I thought they represented an excellent chance to get the monkey off my back so to speak. I don't know how many times I dropped a fly in amongst them but it was all to no avail. Yakkas are hardly finicky eaters & can usually be relied on to whack any offering but not these guys. I changed flies but it was no good. Then a small school of Tuna burst onto the surface within range. One cast & they sounded, leaving me very optimistic I would be in action very soon. However that one brush with the quarry proved to be a flash in the pan as nothing more was seen for the next 30mins, the party pooping Yakkas hanging around to have a laugh at my expense. A change of location was decided to be the cure & so we motored south past Moon Island. Again the ocean looked featureless, with no sign of activity. It was time to get tough, because when the going gets tough the tough go harling. I flicked my fly o'er the side & we proceeded to slowly motor south. Not cricket you say? Poppycock say I. Fly fishing has many rules, traditions, ethics & suchlike, most of which derive from England. These include things like it aint fly fishing if you don't use a dry fly on a chalk steam or any other species than trout is a "coarse fish". Oh really. I reckon anything that would eat a cockroach has no right to airs or graces. Don't get me wrong, a big part of our sport is un-corking that pearler of a cast which then proves the undoing of your opponent. However if you have nothing to cast to what do you do, just meekly pack up & go home? Or try something different. If nothing else harling may tease the fish up whereby the cast may cease to be engine assisted & become one delivered by hand. Ken was keen for his Grandson Mitch to open his account as a flyfisher & so he proceeded to go a'harling & was quickly rewarded for his efforts. A strike then Mitch had the honour of picking up the 10wt & for the first time felt a fly rod come alive with bucking of a big fish. A bit too big unfortunately as it broke a 20lb leader with ease. For a moment it had been a double hook up & after Ken had released his fish, a Frigate Mackeral, they set off again. The next time Mitch hooked up there was no repeat of the earlier drama & he soon had his own Frigate in the boat, his first on fly & his first as a CCFR member. It seems he got a taste for it as he went on to bag 4 more. When this young bloke breaks his duck he doesn't muck about! I too had some success, first with a Bonito then with a Mack Tuna. They were the first of each species I had caught & the strength & power of their runs was an eye opener. These fish were only around the half kilo mark but each put a very respectable curve in the old 8wt while the Mack took my line out & into the backing. As Oliver Twist said " Please sir, I'd like some more!" More of what the day brought was the last thing on Mac's mind. Let me explain. The trip started well. Mac had been teamed up with Big Bad John, Robertson that is. So far so good. Mac's vessel was built to handle harsher conditions than those it faced that day. So all should have been sweet. Except that Mac had forgotten to equip his boat with flares. I know what you're going to say, that the sixties are gone, man, like far out gone. Wrong flares. As it was such a lovely day lots of boaties were out & about, providing a target rich enviroment for Waterways who were out & checking all & sundry. When Mac's lack of flares was discovered his excuse that he had no intention of proceeding more that 2 nautical miles out didn't hold water apparently. 2 days later he recieved a fine. The rego for the boat, paid for in full, took 3 weeks to arrive. A word to the wise, if you are 2 or more nautical miles from a safe landing place you may be in the wrong. Check the regs, save the pain [ not to mention the bucks ]. Still smarting from his latest contribution to general state revenue Mac chose to fish close by Moon Island. The Gods of fishing, apparently appeased by his sacrifice of gold, decided to bestow their favour. From nowhere fish started to appear randomly. Mac chose a full sink line, all the better to haul up through the school while Big Bad John plugged away with a floater. Mac's intuition won the day when he connected to, fought, then boated a very bonny Bonito, his first. Check out the trip photos, the grin says it all. You'd never guess the state govt. had just plundered his wallet. Big Bad John was doing it tougher still. Fishless, he tried mental telepathy, staring into the depths & willing them to appear. Next he tried a bit of fish whispering & yodelled their name. They're all called RUUUUUTHHHH apparently. Mac took pity on him eventually & they went back inside. Gary & his lucky shirt made it outside unscathed along with new member Boe Boesen. Like others they were greeted by a empty scene, no clear indication of were to start. They tried casting around Moon Island before Gary decided to start harling, trolling, whatever. It has to said Gary don't hold with it, doesn't think that anything caught by this method counts as flyfishing. But he put his own personal feelings aside in order to give Boe a chance at his first ever saltwater fish. It worked as Boe came up tight to a Bonito. He was delighted with the fight it put up. It was his first capture as a member too. Welcome board, Boe Jeff & John, Roberts that is, went further than most. They travelled all the way to Wybung seeing many things including turtles, seals & dolphin. They even saw 2 fish. The first was a shark which went about 6 feet between the tail & the dorsal fin. J.R. thought it would have been better if there was 6km between he & it! The second fish was spied by J.R. then caught by Jeff, single handed. He leant over the side & scooped it aboard. It was a Salmon of moose proportions, lying on the surface gasping it's last after some "sportsman" had played it's heart out then 'released it'. Tip; If you're going to release it, reel it in & release it quick. If you're going to keep it, kill it quick. Stress hormones do nothing to improve the flavour of the flesh. The lads then decided to head back inside, where Jeff managed to salvage their honour with a pair of flathead, which he returned to fight another day in better condition than the unfortunate Sambo. Rob & Craig were paired up in the debonaire "Dora D". As all was ship-shape in the safety locker the only thing on their minds was where to cast. Craig is an enthusiastic fly tyer who is prepared to give any pattern a go. Nothing is too wierd, wacky or improbable. He'll give them all a try. This trip though he chose something traditional, a white clouser. A firm favourite of the deep north of Queensland & also the Territory where they reckon if a white clouser ain't working then tie on a bigger white clouser. Craig's faith in the tried & true paid off with a Mack Tuna, a new species for him. Damo & Murray ventured up to the bar where they witnessed Mac's unfortunate encounter. A quick check by Damo found him in breach of the regs as he had everything but a torch on board. He decided discretion to be the better part of valour & headed back towards the bridge. The boys had a very thin time of it, catching next to nothing. I say next to nothing as there was some mention of a pair of toad fish caught & released but such talk has since dried up. That leaves a couple of blokes that have many years of experience between them. Both Col & Jimmy are good at this game & would have scored out wide but as Col's boat is a touch on the small side they too fished inside the channel. However, as mentioned previously pickin's were slim inside & the best they could do was a Flathead caught by Col. Back at the ramp & that's when we discovered we had a couple of late starters. Terry Whitter & his son Mark had rocked up after we had left due to Terry's late night in Sydney at the AC/DC concert. He was still bopping all those hours later, the memory of the music more than compensating his lack of fishy luck. Mark had worked hard to get something, even putting out an involuntary personal berly trail. All to no avail. Then it was time for lunch. Mitch had proved himself as a fisherman & now he proved he was a CCFR member by mucking in with the Barbie. He helped cook for & serve our hungry fishos, not eating himself untill everyone else had been fed. I don't think we'll be throwing him back anytime soon, he's definitely a 'keeper'. Just like this venue. It's been the scene of heartbreak & of great success. It offers choice & the chance of some seriously good fishing if the Gods are smiling. It too is a keeper in that we'll keep coming back.

Dad's Day Out - January 2010

Liddell Dad's Day Out

Date: 16-17 January 2010

Forecast: Thunderstorms. Wind, light to moderate. Temp, 20 - 35. Tide; High = low, Low = very. Moon, New. Barometer, 1002, rising.

It was our first DDO & being a sticky beak I borrowed a couple of small nephews for the weekend in order to see how things panned out. Having collected James & Wilson Young from their grateful parents, "Are sure you want to have them Saturday & Sunday at no charge to us?" I headed up the New England Highway.After giving them a treat & my wallet a beating at the Singleton Rotten Ronnie's I was starting to understand why I saw Mum & Dad giving each other high fives in the rear view mirror. Oh well, no body said being an Uncle would be easy so it was on to the lake where Stickerman AKA Andrew Waters AKA The Stik & brood were already on site. Joseph & Jasmine, his charming children or Devil spawn as he prefers to call them, had already bagged some carp & Sticker was confident that the club would do well on the morrow. As his mob & mine were the the tip of the spear so to speak we had the place to ourselves. Or so we thought. The boys & I set up camp while the Waters' had a leisurely afternoon tea of soft drinks & nibbles. We no sooner joined them when Mack & Murray dropped by to say G'day. They'd been fishing the northern end of the park where Mac bagged 6 while Muzz got 3. Apparently they had a fast & furious time of it for nearly an hour then nothing. Rod Dillon had also been reconnoitering the lake & he had a similar story to tell of bagging a brace of feeding fish before they shut down like a switch had been turned off. Rod left for home [ he lives just down the road a piece ] while M&M left for St Clair. I had a bit of a look around & found the water level very low. Once productive spots were now just dust-bowls. The water was cloudy as well making it a challenge for the shore based angler. The arvo session consisted of Stickerman & Jazz working the southern side in his boat while Joe, James & Wilson went swimming. I pottered around camp then rigged the boy's rods as well as keeping a loose eye on the lads in case high jinx turned into high drama. The anglers returned with Jazz outscoring her Dad. The kids then busied themselves rounding up wood for a campfire, an endeavour in which they proved just how industrious pyromaniacs can be, even little ones. After dinner, campfire lighting, sparklers & lots of conversation it was time for bed. It was only then, while trying to get to sleep the amount of noise generated by the power station became apparent. Not to worry, the racket made by the near constant coal train traffic drowned it out. The next day was fine but windy making sighting the fish very hard. Not that my nephews were fazed. They were only interested in swimming which again relegated me to the role of observer. Rod Dillon had no such restraints & scoured the banks. He came up tight to a couple of fish though he admitted to foul hooking one. That fish escaped. He was of the opinion the carp were pairing up. Stickerman took both Joe & Jazz back to the spot they had such enjoyed success the day before & before too long the combo of float & corn nibblets prove itself a winner. By now both the McGrath & the Witham families had arrived. Paul McGrath was accompanied by his wife Colleen, daughters Phoebe & Pip as well as very serious looking Callum. Along with Dave came wife Jo, daughter Kate & son Brad. Steve Tizard had also turned with his little nephew. Richard Hassell also made the Dad's Day a family event with his better half Julie & daughters Lauren & Emma. The new arrivals settled on the northern arm which had plenty of shade if not much in the way of fishy action. Not so for team Sticker. Young Jazz lead the way with 10 fish in total from 2 sessions, her dad came second with 6 while Joe collected the family bronze with 5 fish. The boys & I returned to camp around 11:45am to find The Stik had the lunch situation well & truly in hand. All that needed doing was to butter the bread for the expertly cooked snag sangers, with onions. I looked around but I was johnny on the spot so I sat down & started wielding the blade. I explained to my nephew James how being in a club meant that everyone makes it work by doing their bit. He surprised me by just sitting down, picking up a butter knife & helping do what needed to be done. I was one proud Uncle. Our efforts were kept light by the amusing fishing yarns supplied free of charge by Rod Dillon, his fellow Singleton FlyRodder 'Digger' & our very own Steve Tizard, who after his lap of Oz, had plenty of ammo in the Tall Tales but True department. After that it was dinner time with all concerned expressing their satisfaction with The Stik's efforts. I had to leave early in order to drop the boys off at their grandparents & so missed the afternoon session. The Stik decided he'd break camp & clean up in general so he too didn't fish. Richard lead the pack. He fished the area Sou'east of the boat ramp mainly to get out of the strong breeze. He was rewarded with a hard bump which let him know there was something there. As the water was too murky for sight fishing Richard started to cast at shadows. He came up fast to a feisty Liddel resident & called to his daughters to offer them the honour of hauling it in. Unfortunately they were out of earshot then, & again when he bagged his second, both on fly. Kate Whitham got into the boat ramp action landing a carp on corn. Phoebe McGrath hooked 2 but 1 got away. Her dad Paul also came up tight but was busted off. Considering the wind, murky water & very hot sun I think it was a good result & well done to all concerned. Some might question the use of bait at a club outing but it was decided that the enjoyment of our next generation of anglers was more important than being pedantic. Thank you Stickerman for all your hard work & thanks also to all who made the long drive up to Liddel & in doing so made the day the success it was

Patonga - December 2009

Patonga

Date: Sunday, 13 December 2009

Forecast: Mostly sunny, Wind, SE @14kts, gusting to 38; Temp, Air 14-28, Water 18; Tide, High 6.40 Low 12.01 Moon, New on the 16th.

For our last trip of the year we couldn't have picked a prettier spot. Patonga is just across the water from Palm Beach & a million miles from care. The scenery is such that you could be anywhere on the east coast of Australia yet it's barely an hour from Sydney. It was also close to Christmas, traditionally a hard time to get starters yet Damian Webber, Gary Kent, Bob Williams, Andrew Stickerman Waters & Rob Harwood dragged their boats up hill & down dale to be there. By doing so they made sure that John Roberts, Steve Tizard, Dave Miller, Steve Bunney & yours truly also got a chance to see if "Fishing Santa" would leave something under the tree or in this case, on the end of our lines. Damo arrived early, launching at 6.00am onto a mill pond he said. He cruised around the mouth of the Hawkesbury hoping for sign of Salmon & while he saw one school on top he arrived on the scene too late to cast at anything. He wasn't forgotten by you know who because he soon saw splashes which indicated feeding Tailor. Before he knew it he was handing out presents of his own as sharp teeth shredded both flies & line. He bagged a few but with his Salmon Fly ammo A.K.A Tailor Bling looking a bit depleted he decided it was a good time to head back to the ramp & pick up Dave Miller. Bob & JR were catching a fish a cast. So voracious were these fish John feared for his fingers when washing blood of a fly. Steve Tizzard was of a similar opinion, saying if they were bigger & you fell out of the boat you would last long enough to climb back in. By then everyone else was out there flinging away. Except for me. I stayed behind to make sure there were no stragglers & Rob had assured me he would return after he checked out the other side of the river. However Gary Kent & Steve Tizzard wouldn't hear of me waiting while the Tailor were in feeding mode & insisted I catch some fish with them until Mr Harwood returned. This I did, a couple of 30cm fish which were the average size that morning. Then Rob turned up & I transshipped to the dauntless 'Dora D'. We explored the bay & managed to find some more Tailor but due to Dora the explorer's draught we gave the creek a miss as the tide was falling. Rob had been busted off earlier just across the river but he thought with the change of tide the action would have moved towards Lion Island. So off we steamed hoping for Salmon. Meanwhile Sticker & Bugs had scooted up the creek as had Gary & Steve. Bob & John Roberts elected to head up-river hoping for something different & eventually reached the Railway bridge. Alas their trek proved fruitless. They didn't escape the Tailor. JR reckoned they got smaller as the day got hotter. Damo & Dave also nosed around the river but after the early burst of Tailor action found the going very quiet. Meanwhile up the creek things were getting a bit crowded. Along with those mentioned earlier Brownie & his son Jackson were chasing flatties in his punt. Max Gear took his trusty canoe & his boy Jared & were also after 'Duskies'. They weren't disappointed with both Jackson & Jared showing their dads just how it's done, When asked later how big the fish they caught were both lads held their hands as far apart as they could but both ran out of arms. Well done boys, them's mighty big Flathead. That's not to say that the dads caught nought, they did. Their fish were just not in the same league. Stickerman & Bugs pushed on right up the creek before drifting back. Gary & Sticker did good but both Bugs & Steve found the elusive Flathead er, elusive.Rob & I arrived at Lion Island about the same time as the wind. Even in the lee of the island the wind was strong & generally not conducive to casting flies. We faffed about for a while then cruised back, having a peek at Flint & Steel on the way. After rumours of Mulloway the squid-soaking brigade were out in force so we kept right on cruising. By now it was getting close to lunch & as it was still to be ordered we headed back to the ramp. The local Fish & Chip shop is famous for it's quality & they didn't let us down although the lass who served us thought it was hilarious that a fishing club had to buy fish for lunch. Back at the lunch site Steve Tizard proved what an asset he is to our club. He produced a table, 2 benches, 2 Eskies of soft drinks as well as a huge bag of mixed lollies for the kids. His attention to detail turned our usual male bonding session into something both welcoming & inclusive for Cathy, Joe & Jazz Waters & Maree, Jared & Byron Gear as well as Brownie's boy Jackson. Take a bow, mate. Anyway after doing a number on our take away that a flock of ravenous seagulls would be proud of it was time to clean up & head off. Everyone had a smile that only comes from good times & good friends & no doubt our Christmas trip will be bigger next year once the word of how good this one was gets out. Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year to one & all & see you next year

Lake St Clair - December 2009

Lake St Clair

Date: 14 - 15 November 2009

Forecast: Perfect

I love the St Clair trips. The location, the company, the target species, they’re all close to my heart. Those soft rolling hills are so easy on the eye. It’s just far enough away to feel like you’re on holiday. Everyone’s relaxed & in a ‘on tour’ frame of mind. Then there’s the reason for travelling so far from our beloved coast. Impoundment Bass. These fish have a whack it first & ask questions later attitude tailor made for fly fishing. With such a greedy guts reputation you’d think they’d be pushovers. Not so. Read on but be prepared to have your Bass tactics challenged; mine were, & they’ve changed forever. Friday saw myself & Andrew Tucker truckin’ on up the mighty New England Highway. As we were the first on the scene it was up to me to pick a campsite. All the good ones were gone [they always are] but I did manage to find something near the water. After setting up in strong wind & light rain we settled back to wait for the rest. John Robb was next then a fellow by the name of Wayne Auld appeared. Wayne’s well know to most club members although not a member himself. He’s also rightly regarded as a Bass angler of note so when he offered to take me out in his boat & show me how to fish StClair I jumped at the chance. John & Andrew paired up in John’s Hornet & we took off. That afternoon was disappointing as far as fish landed, I dropped the only touch I got. However school was in & Wayne set to the task of curing my ignorance. By the time we got back my knowledge of casting, line types & brand differences, Bass behaviour & the most likely places to encounter them had all been expanded. The weather had improved slightly & the forecast was good. Back at camp Ken & his grandson Mitch had arrived as well as Jeff Medhurst. John revealed he was suffering from a bout of tennis elbow & was finding casting well nigh impossible, the strong gusts making a bad situation worse. So it was no wonder he fell back on his trusty spinning outfit. He kept faith however by using a fly + split shot & was rewarded with his first Bass. I witnessed Andrew’s hook up, fight, as well as the drop at the edge of the boat. Been there done that. Wayne too had scored, 2 healthy Bass. After dinner & admiring Ken’s new awning we had a nightcap or 6 then turned in. However, unbeknownst to the crew Rob Harwood had made a last minute decision to join us & had arrived around 6pm. After a fruitless search for our camp-site he launched the indefatigable Dora D then headed left where he found a sheltered bay. Fish were moving about & just on dark he tricked a “just size Bass” with a popper. After a slow trip back to the ramp Rob retrieved his boat, boiled the billy then drove back to Singleton where he crashed for the night. In the morning Rob returned to the coast. A brand new day & what a difference. Blue skies, no rain. & just enough breeze to ruffle the surface. Once more John & Andy teamed up while Ken took his grandson in order to impart the wisdom of the ages. I had managed not to blot my copy book the day before so Wayne agreed to use me as portable ballast. Jeff Medhurst A.K.A. The Rabbit [ not be confused with ‘Bugs’ Bunney ] played a solo hand. Wayne & I launched around 6.30 & decided on the first northerly arm from where we were camped. As the student I was prepared to fish as teacher thought best, but something spoke to me when I saw a small indent in the bank. “Let’s give that a go” proved successful as my second cast got whacked with gusto. A short but determined struggle revealed a Golden Perch of 40cms. The name said it all, a very pretty little fish & my first on fly. Fish the bank early is established doctrine & so we did but again that voice told me the water was too clear to hold fish & so I turned my back on the bank while Wayne persisted. 2 Bass later my change of direction proved a couple of things: 1.for once I picked a winner, 2.Wayne’s tactic of using full sink lines coupled with very short sharp strips with appropriate pauses proved to be a very successful indeed. Fish were hooked near drowned trees but also away from any discernible feature. The only constant was the 4 / 5 short strip, 4/ 5 strip, pause, occasionally punctuated by the smashing strike of a Bass for whom this tactic proved irresistible. We drifted a 100 metre pitch & picked up a few fish each of around 35cm then nothing. We retraced our passage but only managed another fish each which left me leading the Master 7 to 5. We returned to camp to find we were the only ones to score that morning. It became apparent not everyone had the tools [ sinking line ] to do the job. I simply brought mine due to a previous trip when the only fish Ken & I caught were in 13mts. Wayne told everyone his magic formula such is his generous nature. Mac & Murray turned up & they decided to leave Mac’s Cruise Craft behind in order to fish Glennies Creek. This novel approach was inspired by some info Mac gathered at a work related seminar. Anyway the boys hit the creek which according to Mac is quite picturesque & definitely fishy. Before long they saw some large, dark, almost black shapes in the water. These bass are huge they told each other. They hoiked some flies & once hooked up they couldn’t believe the fight. These Bass are brutes they said. Then they caught sight of a big rubbery orange gob. These Bass are !@#%ing Carp they swore. Mac & Muzz did find some real Bass, these were in the deeper holes. The Carp were in quite shallow water & some were acting like Trout by lying in the runnels & letting the current bring food to them. Apparently these darker Carp are great sport, with one Mac hooked leaping clear of the water. They did the enviro-sensitive thing & released a Bass each back into the stream & 4 Carp into a paddock. The middle of the day saw temperatures of 30+, the sun falling on the lake like a hammer on an anvil. Bugger ‘Nana Naps’ this required a man sized ‘Siesta’. Suitably refreshed I woke to find Roy ‘Brownie’ Browne on the plot complete with first mate Jake. A couple of Brownie’s mates had come up as well, thinking of joining up they said. Max Gear also arrived, leaving me afraid that a 7 fish lead would soon evaporate in the presence of a genuine Dark Horse. Don’t let those movie star looks & smooth demeanour fool you, Max is a killer, albeit a very quiet one. The heat provoked a kind of lethargy that left no-one overly keen to launch much before 4. The teams remained the same, with Jeff dragging the chain waiting for his mate Terry Whitter who is also our absolute newest member. Brownie & Jake were soon motoring up the bay while Brownie’s mates got out the trolling gear. Maybe they’d start flying later. Wayne & I turned left out of the bay & went in search of rock walls, preferably in shaded parts of the Dam. This was not just for our comfort but also the fishes preference. It was slow going for me but the time passed easily enough with Wayne scoring at least 1 fish from every location we tried. As the sun sank we moved into more open water. In the mean time Wayne helped fine tune my retrieve. He showed me that if the rod tip is under water the line doesn’t bounce, thereby creating slack. Now he told me of the benefits of the strip strike when using sinking lines, which is basically the fact that when you lift the rod you lift the fly up & away from the fish. A strip strike pulls the fly away but leaves it still in front of Mr Bass & gives you a second chance of a hook up. My first fish of the arvo session proved this. I felt a bite, pulled the line, no weight so pause, 2 quick strips, a hit, pull the line again missed again. Stripped again & whack, strip strike & fish on. After releasing it I had started to cast when I saw a boil. I changed direction mid-cast & dropped the fly about 20cms short. No doubt about this strike & I soon released Bass number 2. Hit number 3 popped 12lb tippet in a blink of an eye. Before I could retie said tippet the sun had set, the fish shut down & so we set sail for base. Once there it became apparent Wayne & I had the best of it. Mac had launched his boat & bagged a Bass on a popper while Jeff also boated a fish. Jake had a good size Bass on only to lose it at the boat. Otherwise things were quiet. More of our mob had rolled up. Terry Whitter & his son Mark had arrived as had Jimmy Hyatt. After much jocularity around the barbie it was time for the traditional Saturday Comedy Club, with jokes aplenty. If the world needed saving it was just too bad, we were busy yukking it up. It finished late but started early the next day. Sunday is club day so with nary a spin rod in sight we set out, with Max sharing with Jeff. Terry’s son Mark had his leg in a new fangled splint so they reckoned the bank would be a safer option. Otherwise it was pretty much the same teams as before. My fishing with Wayne seemed like a bit of a grey area as he wasn’t a member. Personally I was prepared to be scratched from the day’s proceedings if anyone objected. As it happened if I didn’t fish with Wayne I’d have been on the bank as there were no spare seats on the boats. In any case no-one was worried so we got on with it. A few boats tried the bay where our boat had seen such success the morning before. It seemed pretty quiet so we left, after Wayne passed on some coaching on his u-beaut technique to a couple of the boys as well as pin pointing the 100metre pitch where we had found fish. He & I went in search of a point, somewhere the fish would transit from one bay to another. We found something that also had a few dead trees & got some encouraging signs early on. Then Wayne struck Bass gold. Then again. And again. He was now 6 in front & it looked like I was going to be skunked when “Praise Be” I got a follow then a strike that connected. Back to 5. I pegged back the score by another then my partner in crime bagged one of his own. It was getting closer to the 9.00am knock-off when I boated my last Bass. We finished Wayne 16, myself 12. I can think of no other way of demonstrating the efficacy of Mr Auld’s methods bar this crude numbers landed system. Before this I had travelled up to the Dam with little in my head but ‘throw some vampires around untill it’s time to do some real fishing at night with poppers’. And ‘you have to see them on the sounder to know where to cast’. Well there’s casting blind & then there’s blind casting to an area with a high probability of holding fish. Big Bob along with his lovely wife Anne motored up & we spent the last 20 minutes or so fishing within close proximity of each other. Bob had landed a Bass but they got one back on him when a hooked fish wove Bob’s sink tip around the branches of a submerged tree. When he gave it a heave the line snapped leaving Bob with a sink bit instead of a sink tip. Back at camp & it was another tale of woe, with only a few of the boys catching fish. Jeff & Max did better than most. Jeff landed 3 Bass but Max left his run late. When they were returning Jeff pulled into the bank & stopped to connect his reserve fuel tank. While he was busy doing this Max got walloped by a good fish. A tough struggle later left Max holding a 50cm Yellow Belly. Unfortunately he didn’t hold it for long as it wriggled free from his grasp before a picture could be taken. Jimmy Hyatt travelled a long way to fish for about 4 hours. He made it count with a nice fish using the approved Wayne method of full sink line & very fast strip. He also agreed that it wasn’t the way he’d fished for Bass in the past but it was definitely the way he’d fish in future. Mac experienced the frustration of dropping a fish at the boat. He also had a better than average fish on only to have the hook break at the bend. He had another break in the middle of the shank, a genuine “Broke Back” pink Vampire he christened ‘Murray’ for some obscure reason. Some could only find solace in the fisherman’s lament; Next time, next time. Whatever, Ken fed us all like we were world beaters then before you knew it we were all packed up & shaking hands prior to driving home. Special thanks to Brownie for his kitchen duties & to Jeff for his home distilled hooch. Both made our world a better place.

Oberon - October 2009

Oberon

Date: Sunday, 16 - 18 October 2009

Forecast: Mostly Sunny, late shower Wind, S to SW, moderate to fresh; Temp, 2 - 10; Barometer, 1013, rising.

What a lucky country we live in. Last month we were blessed with some of the best Salmon fishing the club has enjoyed , which took place on calm seas in balmy conditions. This month’s outing was our traditional Trout Bash out at Oberon, held in freezing winds yet without rain, sleet or snow. From the mountains to the sea; who said fishing was boring? Certainly not ‘Big’ Bob Williams, Andrew ’Stickerman’ Waters, Mac ‘More Meat’ Lyall, Steve ’Bugs’ Bunney, Roy ‘ I’ll tell Mum’ Browne, Shane ‘ Not if I tell her first’ Browne, John ‘Boom Boom’ Ross, Pete ‘ Pierre’ Frere, Murray ‘Broke back’ Keating, Richard ‘Tarzan’ Hassell, Rob ‘Carp Buster’ Harwood, Chris ‘TBC’ Bannerman & Col ‘ Mudlark’ Breeze. After an uneventful drive via Wisemans Ferry Chris & I arrived to find John Robb already ensconced in a cabin as was Col & Kerry Breeze. Col had already opened his Oberon account, scoring a nice kilo Brown in the Fish river. After a quick trip to town for supplies Chris, John & I , now joined by Sticker & Bugs headed to Kellys Lane to see what we could see. The level was below that of last year even though the Oberon area had enjoyed 3 weeks of rain. Apparently the local power company is syphoning the water out faster than it runs in. Smart. Anyway that was the least of our worries as the wind was quite strong [ not to mention really cold ] & left nowhere untouched. Some of us tried the bay closest to the dam wall while the rest spread out in a westerly direction. The water was a bit murky, the wind unhelpful but with the knowledge that the NSW Fly Fishing Championships were to be held in part at the dam the following morning we thought it best to crack on before the ’Pros’ emptied the lake of fish. Chris fished hard up against the Dam wall & landed a rainbow & dropped another. He persevered for a while before turning his attention to the left-hand bay below the gate. He found success here too, landing a couple more rainbows. Sticker & Bugs were close by & they also had good luck, Steve landing 3 ‘Bows plus a nice Brown while Sticker bagged a pair of rainbows. Boom Boom Robb got into the act, catching his first fish as a member of the CCFR. Once the sun had drifted below the hills it wasn’t too hard to pull stumps & wander back to the Caravan Park for the traditional Friday night Barbie. By now all the usual suspects were on the plot, with just Tarzan Hassell to make our group complete. Mac & Murray had plied the local rivers, Muzz catching ‘X’ amount of fish at the same location. Col reported the walk in at The Reef to be a long one. Mr Harwood had taken the time to investigate some likely looking water & was sprung by a couple of farmers who clearly didn’t appreciate his presence, which was more than mutual he assured us. Brownie arranged to meet his ‘Outback’ brother Shane here as it‘s nearly equidistant from their respective homes. Not only is Shane a much better fisherman than his brother[ or so he told me ] he’s also nowhere near as scary to look at . I was a bit crook & slow off the mark otherwise I’d have signed him up. Big Bob was accompanied by his lovely wife Anne as was Col with the equally lovely Kerry. Regardless of the female company the lads insisted on comparing their meat. Stickerman’s T-Bone was HUGE but Mac & Murray’s Viking Cutlets were……..MEGA. It ended peacefully with all concerned swallowing their pride. Afterwards it was a time of contemplation, inner harmony, lotus….. Forget that, we sat back & enjoyed a well lubricated session [ we being the un-accompanied later risers ] which started off discussing Trout, then the talk spread it’s wings. If you woke the next day to a better world thank us. We spent most of the night + a few brain cells setting it to rights. Saturday was the day the comp was at the dam so seeing as that was set to start at 8am we hit the water earlyish. Not that seemed to do any good. One fish was caught at Kellys lane by us [ us = Steve ] while the Pros bagged at least 3. At the Reef the results were equally dismal. Mid-morning we abandoned the dam & most of us went river fishing. Me? I went rock hunting with Chris. Those without rocks in their head like Rob, Roy & Shane went overland seeking good water. After 4 by 4ing up hill & down dale they found Rob’s spot & first glance they though they’d found some big browns. Closer inspection revealed the trout were of the swamp variety. That’s right, rotten @#%! Carp. Rob depleted their numbers by one but as they were near the headwaters of the Cox’s river it doesn’t bode well. Meanwhile Bugs had opened his Aussie river account with a ‘bow at Flat rock. Mac & Muzz hit the Campbell river, scouting around a few of Mac’s secret spots. They saw 2 fish for all their effort which was unusual as the places Mac knows seem to always hold fish. Not this time. Back to camp & after a restorative cuppa we headed back to the Dam with the majority picking Kellys Lane as the spot. While it was still windy it was nowhere as strong as on Friday & it was warmer too. I went down to a stretch of water Sticker calls ‘Bunney’s Bay’ due to Bug’s success the day before. There I was minding my own business when I was joined what seemed to be half of the club. I wasn’t the only ‘blowfly’ buzzing around that day but being the first to steal the rabbit’s spot allowed me to abuse the johnnie-come-latelies with witty quips about the need for Aeroguard. I won’t bother you with the replies. Suffice to say they were rude & definitely low brow. Things were quiet but the boys fished on. As Saturday night is Chinese Din Dins night all concerned fished hard knowing they’d have to leave earlier than they may have wished. They got their reward with a magnificent rise however nothing the lads threw at them took the fish’s fancy & that’s why they’re called fish; All the good four letter words had already been taken by the time they were named. Sticker did manage a door prize of 2 Redfin but by then it was time to hit the bright lights & social whirlwind that is the Big Trout Motor Inn. After much hilarity not to mention good cheer interspersed with food we wound our way back to camp where once again the night owls saved the world. An early start was supposed to happen but about half the crew decided their heads were too heavy to lift from the pillow, which left the brothers Browne, Big Bob, TBC, Sticker, Tarzan & the Mudlark to uphold the honour of the club. This they did with Col bagging a couple of ‘Bows’, Brownie & the other Brownie also advanced our cause as did That B@$#%*! Chris scoring a fish apiece along with numerous FTHUs [ failure to hook up ] along the way. Meanwhile back at the camp the rest of us made our way to the new & improved BBQ area, which now sports a micro-wave, a sink complete with washing up thingies as well as a shiny stainless steel bench & heaps of cups & plates etc. There’s even an electric jug. Hoowee, They was certainly thinking of us city slickers when they designed it. Brekkie was a breeze thanks also to the 2 [ new ] gas fired barbies with Murray again showing he knows the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, & don’t we love him for it. On ya, Master Chef Muzz. Due to some faulty time-keeping those dam boys were a bit late back for a truly fresh breakfast but all’s well that ends well. Some used the trip home to chase Trout. Myself, Chris & John Robb took the Wiseman’s route home in order to chase basalt at Mt Tomah. Each to their own.

Swansea - September 2009

Swansea

Date: Sunday, 20 September 2009

Forecast: Mostly Sunny, late shower Wind, NW to NE, light to moderate; Temp, Air 25, Water 18 Tide, High, 9.03am Low,2.48am ; Sea, 1m on a 1m swell; Barometer, 1013, rising

Once more into the breach dear friends, once more; Thus spake Shakespeare. And so once more we launched from Blacksmiths. We have come up [ almost ] dry here on the 3 previous occasions since we adopted this venue & yet Captains Ken Colmer, Damian Webber, Chris Bannerman, Rob Harwood, Andrew Waters, Gary Kent, Roy Browne, Barry French, Neal Williamson, Bob Williams & Richard Hassall toed the mark, ably supported by Bosuns Jake Browne, Jimmy Hyatt, John Roberts, Steve Bunney, Max Gear, John Robertson, Pete Frere, Paul McGrath & our wandering embezzler, oops, treasurer, Steve Tizard. For once conditions were in our favour & so it was straight out to Moon Island where large schools of Salmon could be seen on the surface. It was a sight some members hadn’t witnessed before; a patch of ocean 10 to 20 metres wide & nearly 10 metres deep black with fish. The sound they made as they mouthed the surface was equally memorable, something akin to a very fast running stream & quite loud. Needless to say the odd case of Buck Fever was experienced. Who hooked up first isn’t known nor does it matter. People lost count of the number of double hook ups such was the intensity of the fishing. Once hooked these Salmon quickly showed they were of a class not seen in recent years & those without 20lb tippets found themselves working overtime just to see colour. Rob & I in the dashing “Dora D” each spent 30mins to boat fish due to the lighter lines we used. I had started off with 10lb, which survived contact with the enemy for all of 3 seconds. I then moved up to 14lb, which was all Rob & I had at hand. This too lost fish, so it was a harsh lesson learned in the school of hard knocks. Speaking of hard knocks, how about the bruised knuckles inflicted by spinning handles when Mr Sambo decided he wasn’t quite ready to say hello? But who cares. It was a picture perfect day with b-all swell, the fish were co-operative [ for once ] & it could have been worse. I could have broken a rod. Like Ken, Jimmy, Sticker & The Rabbit. The other person to break a rod was Big Bob, in a hurry to bring one fish in so he could catch another. As the old ones told us; Haste makes waste. I tell you these fish were serious & more than capable of exposing weaknesses in gear or knot tying. They were also capable of raising the [almost] dead. Well Jimmy Hyatt & Brownie’s lad Jake certainly looked it but a bit of Salmon therapy worked wonders & had both casting to & fighting fish that were only slightly less green around the gills than they were. Stuff of champions. Less inspiring was the lack of boat handling skills or fishing etiquette displayed by some water-bourn boneheads who repeatedly; 1.trolled through the middle of the school, 2.positioned themselves between people waiting for the school to arrive & the fish, almost running over bright green [are they blind?] fly lines, 3.roaring right up the edge of the advancing school then wondering where all the fish went. And remember, their vote in the next state election is worth the same as yours or mine. However it was very satisfying to note the capture rate of fly v the rest was very much in our favour so for once instant Karma was working it’s spell on the oh so stupid. Despite this we soldiered on, some of us catching as many as 14 Salmon, a few bagged 5 or so while some like yours truly only managed to boat one. JR landed one using a 6wt then went up a couple of notches to something more suitable as did Paul who started the day with a 7wt. Damo even managed to snag 3 species, with a Yakka & a Silver Trevally to add to his bag of Salmon. Due to the aforementioned boating idiocy the school ended up getting smaller & smaller as well as more nervous as the day progressed. As the tide dropped the swell became more noticeable & by lunchtime we felt we had definitely had the best of it. So it was back to the ramp & a well-earned hot snag & onion sanger. The conversation was animated to say the least & all concerned agreed it was one of the best trips ever. One tip mentioned is worth repeating. Due to the repeated casting with heavier lines rod lengths’ may have come loose causing the rod to break near the join. A touch of the ‘Buck’ doesn’t help as details like checking your rod is tightly joined are easily forgotten in the excitement of the chase. Apart from that this is one trip that will be very hard to beat