De-jinxing the new kayak with the other Metro “S”‘s

Many years ago, a friend of mine had a tongue in cheek belief that new tackle was jinxed. Whenever he bought a new rod or reel, or new boat, it was cursed until the first decent fish was landed. Catching a “vermin” fish (defined as a sergeant baker, blowfish, wrasse etc) just increased the curse.

A new kayak definitely also falls into the “new fishing tackle curse” category, but I sure was looking forward to using the new Hobie Revolution 13 that I had just bought on ultra special. For many years I had used a Hobie Adventure, which is an awesome kayak, but it lacks the manoeuvrability both on and off the water that a Revolution has. The Adventure was also starting to wear out after close to 400 fishing trips and about 2000 hours on the water.

The new Revolution 13 was completely unpimpped– no extra rod holders, no sounder, nothing apart from the factory components – but I couldn’t wait to get it out. The sleek hull, without any scratches or squid ink stains found itself launching from a nice beach near Fremantle with the hope of some squid to break the curse.

Joining me was Luke Doherty and Chris Morris, and our shallow water squidding was quite successful. Within 1 hour I’d caught about 7 squid, some of them large, and the yellow kayak was now looking a little blacker. Lately I have been storing my squid in a type of keeper net over the side so they relieve most of their ink directly into the ocean and are cleaner when I get back to shore. All the squid were still perfectly alive, so I announced to the other guys that I was popping out to a nearby reefy spot for a little while to see if anything bigger was about.

There is no better bait in the world than a live squid. With a couple of snelled circle hooks pinned through its hood, I dropped the very lightly weighted squid straight over the edge of the kayak in 6 metres of water and watched it pulsate backwards with its characteristic swim. It was only about 1 metre under the kayak when the rod tip bent double but didn’t pull much line. I was sure that it was a Samson Fish.

Samsons this size are fun and manageable from a kayak

Samsons are quite sedate until you start to pull back aggressively, and even large fish will happily follow you in shallow water without much effort if you ‘walk’ them away from snaggy territory like a puppy dog. I’ve done this on 15 kg fish without them pulling drag and have taken them 100 metres away. They then steal that 100 metres of line back in seconds when you put pressure on them, but hopefully in safer, snagless water. I think this “walk the dog” technique will only work on Samsons if catching them from a kayak. The noise of a motor would no doubt spook a hooked fish and make them head away, straight back into the line busting snags.

The fish in question on this day followed me for about 50 metres, then put up a nice fight in open water before I landed it. When they decide it is time to fight, Samsons are like no other metro fish. At 75cm it was no monster but was a welcome catch on a squidding trip, caught on light tackle close to shore. I love eating smaller Samsons (I rate them better than snapper) so this one came home and made a lovely meal.
I kept fishing that trip and a succession of four more Samsons were landed, each one considerably smaller than the first but fun nonetheless. On arriving back to Luke and Chris, I decided it was time Luke got stuck into a fish and arranged a duplicate trip for the following weekend.

I love these fellas, even the smaller ones

The following weekend was squidless – we didn’t see a squirt of ink – which left Luke and I using two frozen squid left over from our previous squidding session. I wasn’t too confident with the dead bait but it worked, catching another Samson in an almost identical manner and of the same size as the previous weekend. Luke donutteed again, but has since proven he can catch even bigger snapper.

And so the new kayak jinx is broken with the two other metro “S” fish – squid and samsons. I am very impressed with the Revolution 13, and it has become my craft of choice on the nicer fishing weather days. I have since added a large outrigger “Polynesian style” to the Hobie Adventure which has made it an awesome craft for rougher weather – but more of that on a separate post.

Happy fishing!

A long overdhu yakfishing first

 

Samson Fish, Snapper, KG Whiting, Sharks, Spanish Mackerel, Giant Herring… It seemed like I’d caught nearly all the iconic Perth metro species after 7 years of enjoyable kayak fishing.
One species was proving elusive, however. A species unique to the West Coast of Australia, and one of my favourite eating fish ever – the Dhufish.

A nice morning of low wind but decent swell found Luke, David and I navigating through a gap in a reef with surrounding breaking waves and heading to some promising ground in the metro area. Although the chop was low, the swell still made it rolly polly out there in the ocean and required awareness of balance. Making our way into a reefy area in 15 metres of water, I cast out my first bait of the day, a very lightly weighted fresh Cockburn Sound squid head.

The beauty of kayak fishing in a Hobie is you never need a big sinker – just enough to make the bait sink is sufficient. In most of my kayak fishing I only use a split shot even in deep water. This presents the bait more naturally and leaves it sinking for longer – which is when fish normally eat it. With hands free kayak propulsion you can just hover there without an anchor and keep the bait sinking beneath you.

My first bait for the day was scoffed before it reached the bottom and I immediately knew it was a decent fish. Pulling drag, I first called it for a small Samson Fish, then called it for a snapper. There was something a bit different about it though – it felt heavier than either for the amount of fight it was giving. Snapper and Samsons are both superb fighters on their initial runs and this fish was not fighting all that great given its weight.

Nevertheless, the fish did pull quite a lot of drag but I kept it under control, pedalling away and dragging it behind me to keep it from diving into reef. With one foot out the side for balance, I bought up the beast. A silvery glint appeared and after some nervous netting I was pretty damn happy with my first Dhufish from a kayak. I’ve caught a few Dhufish from a boat before, but this one was bigger than any of them, so it was also a personal best.

Dhu think I was getting hungry?

I love eating Dhufish, so there was no way I was letting this fellow go. Due to the swell and heavy nature of the fish, I was not game to turn around and put it in the rear well for fear of losing balance and fish juices leaking into the ocean. This spot was also known for big shark sightings (indeed Grant Bond was aggressively bumped and circled by a large Mako in his fishing kayak there a couple of years ago). Instead, I asked David to put the fish in my front hatch, as I cannot reach it while on the water.

David pedals a Hobie Pro Angler, a big beast of a kayak that appears so stable it would be impossible to capsize. He grabbed my fish, opened my hatch, leant over to put the fish in the hatch…then in a flash, his whole kayak capsized. The Dhufish disappeared into the Indian Ocean, and oddly, David also disappeared into the depths a moment after. He emerged triumphant, holding a Dhufish that he had recaught by hand as it was swimming away. What an awesome save and one that I’ll always be grateful to him for.

Now it was time to get David back into his kayak – which was not easy for a guy with sporting injuries and no practice at deepwater entry. It took quite a few attempts and all of his energy to reboard, and Luke and I ended up rafting up to help him on board in the unstable swell. It really hammered home to us the importance of learning and practicing deep water entries, as capsizing is something that happens while kayak fishing. We arranged a yakfishwest practice session for the following weekend.

Luke and David went straight back to shore, but I hung out with some other yak fishos for 30 more minutes until my fresh bait supply was gone. Another nice hookup was dropped, and it was looking like a promising morning of fishing. Then, as very occasionally happens to me while fishing in the ocean, a sudden eerie and anxious feeling overcame me. I don’t know what causes it but I felt like I had to get back to shore, and fast. 30 minutes after Luke and David departed, I headed the 1.5km back to the launch spot.

Luke demonstrating the perpendicular paddling technique

Luke, Kevin and I practiced deepwater entries the next weekend at Leighton Beach. Luke and I had no troubles at all in our Hobie Revolutions, but it was good to practice despite the 2.5 degC air temperatures that morning! Kev had a more challenging morning, practicing rerighting a fully rigged and capsized Advtenture Island. He had obviously thought about it and had the craft rigged in a way that assisted with righting the bulky thing – which he had mastered by the time we went back into shore. Along with the safety practice, it was a fun morning doing some surf launches without the worries of fishing gear and just mucking about on the ocean.

Re-righting an Adventure Island

A great couple of weekends, see you on the water!

Kalbarri Macks from Yaks

Despite living in WA for over a decade, Kalbarri was a place I had only visited for a short overnight stay. I had walked along the beautiful gorges and seaside cliffs, and had seen the rather scary looking Murchison River bar entrance during a large swell. Fishing, however, was something I had never tried in this scenic area. I did not really have any expectations when invited on a kayak fishing trip with a few lads from yakfishwest, but it was soon to become one of my favourite places.

The crew – Matt and Danna Checksfield with their baby Marvin, Erin and I, Kev and Katie Frampton with young Lil and Damian D’Mello.

Experienced yak fishermen Matt Checksfield, Damian D’Mello and Kevin Frampton were also on the trip, along with our families. With a couple of very young children in tow, our trips were limited to a few hours each morning and a base in Kalbarri town was convenient for us all. During the 7 hour drive from Perth, there was only one thing on our minds – May Mackerel.

Erin and I were happy to be back at Kalbarri, even managed time for a bit of a Gorge walk.

I was the only fisherman on the trip who had never caught a Spanish Mackerel from the kayak, so was pretty keen to do so. Preparation was they key – I spent hours at home in the week before preparing Damian D’Mello’s Mackie Rigs, known as “DDR’s” in the WA yakfishing scene. These versatile rigs are weighted to enable a large garfish to be trolled (without twisting) at depths ranging from right at the bottom in 30 metres of water, to near the surface. They also work at ultra low speeds, a godsend in a kayak where the “motor” is your heart, lungs and muscles. It is amazing how much the drag from a couple of large fast deep diving lures will increase the effort required to move a kayak, and they are not a great option for pedal or paddle power. Instructions for Damians kayak Mackerel rig will be detailed separately.

The river bar crossing

Ready for my first bar crossing

Despite my fear, our first crossing of the Kalbarri bar was uneventful and quite easy due to the calm conditions. There were huge schools of baitfish frolicking on the surface, acting surprisingly relaxed given the many predators in this area. We soon found out why – the falling barometer and low water temperatures combined into conditions that left the pelagic fish without an appetite. We did not see a fish or get a touch the whole morning. Heading back, a little disappointed, we were soon to find out just how much a change in air pressure can change the fishing – overnight.

Red Bluff Beach Launch

It was even calmer the next morning, and first light for the day found us with rigged kayaks lined up on a beautiful beach near town. Although there were a few larger sets of swell that could wipe us out, a carefully timed departure found us all safely out in the reflected glow of the rising sun. Kev announced that he had just seen a Mackie leap from the water, and with anticipation my trolled garfish was deployed. A large downrigged snapper weight kept the rig close to the bottom in 20 metres of water. I was moving at about 2 knots, and had only been fishing for 10 minutes when I felt the need to take a leak. I find it hard to pee and pedal my kayak at the same time, so I started drifting, opened my fly and just as I started to relax….

Zzzzzzzinnngggg! My rod bent over and braid started to pour off my reel at a speed that had me worried. There was no time for modesty, my fly stayed undone while I grabbed the rod and took chase. By the time I held the rod, over half the line was gone and pursuing the fish was necessary. Although I had never caught a Mackie from the yak before, this felt like no other fish I had ever caught, so I was pretty sure it was my new target. After the first run, I felt like I had control and started to retrieve line – then it went slack. Disappointed, I wound in the limp line, only to find the fish had swum straight towards me from the distance and was hanging deep below me in over 20 metres of water. Bringing it up to the surface proved to be a kayak stability exercise. Though the tackle could handle my drag setting, I found it necessary to loosen this drag during the repeated runs or my kayak would flip. I never dare to dangle my legs overboard while landing fish from kayaks, so had one leg stuck up in the air on the opposite side of the kayak for stability. The marvellous sight of a long silvery striped shape reflected from the depths and my first yak mackie came towards the kayak. He was soon on the surface, but the battle was only half won.

A kayak caught fish is only “landed” when you get back to land.

Now I had to get a 1.3 metre fish approaching 20kg into the kayak, while avoiding its razor sharp teeth and ultra sharp treble hooks hanging from his mouth. Of course I landed him on the side of the kayak where my sounder and rod holder are mounted, making this even tricker. Damian had been watching the fight and came to the rescue with his fantastic hawiian kage gaff. This gaff, which is basically a straight, threaded rod with a pointy end, speared the fish easily. After much effort Damian and I hauled it into the kayak. I was stoked at my first yak Mackie, one so long and heavy that I had to head back to shore to offload it before continuing fishing. The surf landing was interesting. With a Mackie tail hanging over my shoulder I frantically paddled and leapt out of the kayak to avoid the occasionally killer shore dump.

Captain Kev

Heading back out, a lot lighter than when I came in, my expectations were pretty high. I found the other guys, still only a few hundred metres from the launch spot and cruising near the spectacular Red Bluff cliffs. I arrived just in time to catch Kevin Frampton fighting something rather heavy and fun to christen his brand new Hobie Adventure Island (on its maiden voyage). After 30 minutes, a hefty Samson Fish was hauled over the side outrigger by an exhausted Kev, a great achievement given the confines of a kayak. This was photographed and released, an epic fish for Kev from a kayak. What is most amazing is how he hooked it. In 26 metres of water, he was trolling a surface popper about 10 metres behind him when the Samson nailed it. Far from being a fluke, he also caught an smaller Amberjack in the same way to complement its cousin Samson.

Kevs great Samson

Meanwhile, Matt had done battle with a shark while I was landing the Mackerel. Then that scourge (but natural) fish of the sea turned up, the North West Blowie. These things are persistent when they find out that there is a feed of fresh garfish on hand, and often hunt in packs. Once they find you, I reckon they follow the kayak until you move off quickly without bait in the water. With teeth that can bite through thick steel hooks, you need to be really careful – they can effortlessly bite off a finger. And they are large fish, 60-70cm, as Matt repeatedly kept finding out that day.

Matt and Kev enjoying the amazing conditions

Meanwhile the Mackie master, Damien, was having a slow day. He landed a Pink Snapper that we would have been proud of in Perth, but somehow it was shrugged off as just a snapper up in Kalbarri. The Mackies were certainly still about, and I felt violent Mackie attacks on the end of my line a few times. A few were bitten off above the trace, decreasing my DDR rig supply while a few baits were bitten in half. After some interesting depth sounding under the cliffs (massive schools of buff bream) we started heading back to shore. Most of us had all landed back on the beach when a massive school of something started busting up a few hundred meters from shore – typical! Damian was lagging behind and still on the water and just happened to be right in the middle of this feeding frenzy of these very large tuna (possibly yellowfin). After a brief hookup he lost one and the school moved on, but it just shows the possibilities from a kayak around Kalbarri.

A chat on the water

It was only when trying to carry my Mackie across the camping ground to the fish cleaning table that I realised how heavy it was. We had plenty of visitors to view our catch, and the fillets that came off were huge relative to the size of the fish. Damian commented that my Mackie was fat, oily and very well conditioned compared to other Mackies he had caught. After filleting, I made some sashimi from the little bits of flesh on the frame that was missed by the fillets. The onlookers and I shared this and it was very tasty. We also had an awesome bbq’d Mackie meal that night, and feeding 7 adults barely made a dent in our Mackie fillet supply.

Fresh Mackie fillets for dinner, yum! Simply BBQ’d it is up there with the best fish I’ve eaten.

Our final morning of fishing found us braving the Murchison bar on a higher swell. My wife, Erin, was with us this time, as we had a new Hobie Revolution kayak, and I was keen for her to catch a Mackie too. We stopped just prior to the bar and observed. It was rougher compared to my previous trip and every 5 minutes or so waves would break right across the channel we were planning to travel through. Timing was everything, and eventually Erin and I chickened out while Matt and Damian safely sprinted through between the sets. Erin and I landed on the rock bar adjacent to channel, and I started popping for tailor. 30 minutes of observing the crossing was enough to work up the courage to navigate the channel, we could do this! Rigging the kayaks free of swinging treble hooks in case of a capsize, we dashed through the channel. It was choppy and a few very steep waves crashed against each other just as the kayak was under them, so it was tricky and there were plenty of opportunities for a capsize. We made it through safe and dry, adrenaline pumping, happy to have conquered the bar.

A break on a rock bar, contemplating crossing the river mouth

It was a great day on the water past the chaos of the bar and we came within radio range of the other lads. Both were hovering not far from the launch spot, which was promising, as they had plans to go further South. This must mean that they had found fish! A quick radio to Damian confirmed this, and both he and Matt were rerigging after a triple hookup on Mackies (Damian hooked up on two rods at the same time). They both had fish stolen by sharks, and the sounder showed a huge school of baitfish beneath us. I sidled over to Erin in the shiny new Revolution kayak, which I have not installed forward rod holders on yet. A big garfish on her DDR rig was deployed, and the rod placed in the rear rod holder with a fairly loose drag (to help her to remove the rod in case of hookup).

Launching in the river prior to the bar is very gentle

She had a massive hookup almost immediately and line started pouring off the reel at a high velocity. It was difficult for her to remove the rod from the rear rod holder due to the force, and I looked on with anguish as the line on the spool got less and less. Eventually she managed to remove the rod and tighten the drag, and made headway on the fish. Unfortunately the large fish broke the thin wire, and was just one of several Mackerel that we lost that afternoon.

Matts Mackie

Meanwhile, Matt (and all of us) were getting frustrated with bait destroying NW Blowies again. Matt announced half heartedly that he had hooked up, but then seemed to take 10 minutes to land it, which was odd. Up came a Mackie, and a nice one of average size for Kalbarri.

Matt getting ready to land a fish

The Mackerel and NW blowies were decimating my bait and DDR rig supply, and both ran out at the same time. This was conveniently at the end of the fishing part of our holiday and co-incided with an increasing swell and a worried Erin, who wanted to get back across the bar. Leaving the other chaps out there, Erin and I headed back early and crossed the bar again. This was just as scary on the way back in (particularly with scared boat skippers charging through right next to us). The serenity of the Murchison River inside the bar was pleasant to float around in also.

Damian with his horse of a Mackie. He had to untangle this from a cray pot to land it.

An hour or so later, Damian and Matt landed in the sheltered river a stones throw from our caravan park. Strapped on the back of Damians kayaks was a massive 1.4m Spanish Mackerel, which he apparently had lots of fun untangling from a cray pot. Matt had also landed another nice Pink Snapper to go with his previously landed Mackie.

Matt and Damo both had a good day

One of the best parts of this trip was just how close we were fishing to the township of Kalbarri, enabling us all to be back enjoying time with our families by lunchtime. We caught large Pink Snapper, Amberjack, Samson Fish, Spanish Mackerel and heaps of horrible North West Blowies all within easy kayaking distance from shore. If the weather was bad, we could have chased Mangrove Jacks, Mulloway, Bream and Giant Herring in the river or Jumbo Tailor amongst the washes. But with our great weather, we had the opportunity to fish under beautiful ocean cliffs and out from beaches that we could view from a different perspective compared to the average shore tourist.

For those without a kayak, there’s still stacks to do in Kalbarri. I’ll be back!

Gorgeous Gorges

Lake Kalbarri

A sunset tailor shore session with Damian D’Mello to finish the trip

Catching the wrong “S” – part 2

After a failed salmon hunting trip the previous weekend, I decided to go out chasing snapper instead this weekend. My previous trip had yielded one 74cm snapper and several other hook-ups while chasing the salmon, while my targeted salmon were no-where to be found. I was keen to get another snapper from this new spot, and went armed with some deep diving lures to troll about.

Launching from Fremantle, it soon became pretty sloppy out there with a moderate SW’erly, cargo ship bow waves, rich mens boat wakes and one gazillion fishing boats all congregated in one place. The nearby rock walls were packed shoulder to shoulder with people. This congregation of boats and shore anglers could only mean one thing….

I snuck over to a clear patch, trying hard to keep out of shore casting range while not getting run over. Given the number of people fishing one spot, everyone was amazingly courteous. One boat with a trolling outfit and one shore angler hooked up simultaneously, both shouting “I’m on!”. The fight ended when two interlocked lures hovered mid air.

Smoked Australian Salmon is very tasty

Meanwhile the salmon arrived. I didn’t need to see to know this, it was easy to tell from the excited buzz from hundreds of people. Leaping fish jumped everywhere, and I cast my lure, only to have several large salmon follow it back to the kayak. Next cast and I was on to a hard fighting salmon, which immediately identified itself with some acrobatics. I had hooked up onto the wrong “S” yet again, but as my first yak hookup onto a salmon, I wasn’t complaining.

The fish fought hard and I was trying to keep my kayak out of shore angler casting reach while bringing it in. The many waves hitting each other at obscure angles, the Rottnest Island ferry and a salmon leaping yakside with a mouth full of trebles made it tricky to land with my short handled net. A greedy sea lion then made an appearance right next to the kayak, trying to decide who’s hooked salmon to eat next. Luckily he chose someone else’s fish and mine made it onto my lap.

This was a big salmon, as big as they get I reckon, and I was happy to have landed it. I had never landed a salmon from the kayak before, and had never caught one in Perth. They are long, solid and heavy fish, making it fun to unhook. Eventually the hooks were out and I released him back to the school, hopefully avoiding the sea lion.

The school was huge and I could see it on the sounder, but as happens, it just disappeared. The crowds became a bit too much for me so I headed away from everyone, finding some open ocean with lots of room to move. Trolling along I hooked up again, and landed another large, hard fighting salmon. With some floating time and calmer conditions, I decided to keep a fish for dinner. It has been 14 years since I’ve eaten a salmon and Erin has never tried one, so it was time to try it again. I’d heard some good reports of smoked Australian Salmon, but they definitely require bleeding immediately after capture to make them taste good. With some hesitation I cut the fishes throat – blood went everywhere.

I hate bleeding fish on kayaks, particularly around big schools. Chances were that a few big sharks were following this school, and the pool of fish blood draining through my mirage drive slot had me quite nervous. I quickly pulled out a plastic bag and bled the fish into this, while pulling in close to the rock wall for some protection. At least if something attacked me it would be a short swim to the rocks.

Things got a bit choppier as the water traffic and wind increased, and I decided to head back via the snapper grounds. A school appeared on the sounder and shortly afterwards my deep diving lure was hammered. Up came another salmon, which was hard to land while trying to balance while in the middle of two breaking bow waves hitting each other from opposite directions.

I was stoked with my first yak salmon session and back on shore loaded the yak, packed the car, got changed into dry clothes etc. I was about to drive home when an onlooker and I got chatting, and I later drove to the end of South Mole to see if he was having any action. He wasn’t – in fact he had already given up after a few minutes, and I followed him back to the base of South Mole. Suddenly we both pulled over – the river side of the Mole had become a massive froth of salmon feeding frenzy. My rod was already rigged – so I grabbed it and cast from the vacant rock wall at the base of South Mole. A couple of casts later and Salmon were cruising at my feet and took my lure. This first salmon was sneaky – he took off, swimming parallel to the rocks and only 1 metre out, peeling 20 metres of line from my light setup. He jumped through some semi-submerged rocks and busted me off, taking my favourite lure with him. My new friend saw the whole event occur at his feet.

The fish I kept was very greedy – this many Scaly Mackeral were inside the one Salmon.

I ran to the car and re-rigged with a brand new Sebile magic swimmer. These are not cheap lures, and a Salmon grabbed it straight away. After a fun fight, I landed the salmon, only to find the lure broken in half. I cast again, with half a lure that had one forward treble attached, and hooked/ landed another 80cm+ specimen. This fishing was amazing! Cast again and somehow I got busted off – maybe those rocks caused more damage than I thought. I was not too worried as the lure was broken now anyway.

Oddly, I then cast a popper and could not hook a fish despite them following it back to my feet. I was not concerned – I’d had my salmon fix. I’d love to try for the salmon again with a fly rod before they move on again for the year. The wrong “S’s” proved to be the right “S’s”, just on the wrong weekends!

Postscript: I smoked the salmon and Erin and I loved it. I would rate smoked Australian Salmon up there with one of my favourite fish meals.

Pink yakfishing blessings – a year in retrospect

In Perth, we are lucky to have some of the best snapper fishing in Australia within a stones throw of the city. It is accessible and relatively safe for careful kayak anglers. Throughout the year many of us enjoy trips out on Cockburn Sound, scrutinising our sounders for those telltale groups of arches and hoping for that sudden whack and scream of the reel. We know we’ll probably get smoked or more likely not even hook one in the first place, but we keep going back. These are the bread and butter of offshore kayak fishing in the Perth area and a rite of passage amongst many on their way between bream fishing and chasing their first yak sailfish. The company of our mates in this close knit kayaking community, and the sharing of their excitement when they catch one is what it is all about.

Late season Pinkie caught by Luke Tonduit

In the past I have had a great deal of frustration watching others catch snapper while I went 37 trips without even hooking up (after my first 8 trips yielded 4 snapper!). Since switching to fresh bait 2 years ago I’ve been much more successful – but I must say fresh is important. I use freshly caught squid heads, or freshly caught herring fillets. Stuff that I bought just doesn’t work and I don’t bother with it.

Snapper are present in Cockburn Sound all year round, and even large specimens can be caught quite close to shore (and from the shore) any time. However, it is their spawning season that brings them into the Sound in much larger numbers. It is this reason that there is a closed season for snapper fishing in Cockburn Sound. This closed season starts on October 1st until reopening again on the 1st Feb each year, so use this summer period wisely to legally fish for many other great species that are available in the warm water. However, September fishing can be amazing, as I found out in 2014 on one particular trip.

I arrived at the launch site a little early to check out the weather. The plan was to meet Brendon at about 5PM, then launch and try and catch an end of season Pinkie and hopefully some of the abundant salmon that were still hanging around. It was blowing a moderately strong Westerly wind and was quite choppy, threatening to be a cold and potentially gear threatening evening on the water if a rogue wave hit us at the wrong angle. After 15 minutes of indecision and no change in the white caps, Brendon arrived and we continued the umm-ing and arr-ing. It wasn’t what we would describe as a nice evening on the water and there would be other opportunities, so we left the kayaks on the roof and started driving home.

Our trip home was stopped when Hudson and John drove past us on the way to the launch spot, and we followed them back just to say hi. They assessed the weather and decided to go out, we should too – and peer pressure reigned. Brendon and I found ourselves joining them on a choppy ride out to “the spot”. It wasn’t so bad on the water after all.

A couple of pinkes on the sounder

John, of course, found fish first and kindly pointed out their location to the rest of us. I floated over and arches filled my sounder screen. This was awesome, and down dropped my fresh squid head. The anticipation was high but something de-baited me in an aggressive pinkie fashion.

We had a few other people join us on the water. Craig (kayak fishing comp organiser) was in his bream boat nearby, fishing the same school and maintaining position via an electric motor. A few more people I had only just met also turned up. Some of the other guys had come back from an amazing session a few days earlier, so knew what to expect. On the other hand I was ripe to be spoiled.

First snapper for our Irish friend

John announced that he had hooked up. Anyone who knows John will be aware that he is quite possibly one of the best fishermen in Australia, seemingly hooking massive mulloway and snapper on every trip when everyone else goes fishless. I guess standard fishing is no longer as much of a challenge for him, so he had resorted to fishing for 80cm pinkies with bream gear designed for fish 10% of the size. The fish ran, and I was pretty sure he was going to be busted off on the reef (as was common in this spot). After a long fight he landed it, a decent 70 something-ish fish. Snapper are hard fighters on light gear, and on this ultra light gear it was quite an achievement.

Brendon with a nice Pinkie

Brendon was next to hook up. In the months/ years before, Brendon had a tough run on the snapper, dropping many fish but landing none. He had recently broken the duck and was now on a winning streak. Up came a pinky and Brendon was happy (despite the grumpy face he puts on in photos). Yeehah!

Hudson followed, his big Pro Angler dragging the fish away from the danger zone. Hoots of joy followed a successful landing. These hook-ups were all happening within minutes of each other, and sometimes at the same time. It was hard to know who to watch, or whether to just focus on my own fishing.

Up close and personal with a freshly landed snapper

In the meantime, I had hooked onto several fish but had dropped them. Finally one held, and this was on my slightly heavier gear. While it put up a good fight, I felt confident that there would be no terminal tackle failure, and a pinky landed in my lap. I just love the fishy smell and bright colours of a freshly picked snapper, and the up close and personal experience unhooking it.

My haul for the day

The sun got a bit lower and the action heated up. Every time we found the school we would get a touch, a hookup and dropped fish or a landed fish. It was most common that there were multiple hook-ups, and on one occasion four of us were hooked up at once. This was snapper fishing at it’s best, and all of us had our bag limit of 2 fish in no time.

Darkness hit and the fish continued. For the first time in my life I caught more than my bag limit and was releasing large snapper not even bothering to take a photo. One would have gone close to 90cm long, and all the other chaps were doing the same. This was metro fishing at it’s finest and multiple whoops echoed through the wind.

Noel with the seasons bycatch – a salmon

All this time the weather behaved itself but didn’t get better. Choppy and windy, sure, we had to keep our wits about us and make sure our balance was OK. But once hooked up, these thoughts left my head and everything was OK. I guess 7 years of yak fishing (sometimes in bad conditions) leaves a bit of balance instinct, a bit like riding a bike. The rough weather is probably what turned the snapper on so much.

Landing on shore

In the meantime, poor Craig in his boat had not even hooked one fish and he landed later that night fishless. Craig is a very experienced angler, and I don’t blame his skill. I think boats in water of 10m or less depth actually spook fish, and they are hard to maintain in position above the school. It is actually easier dragging fishing away from structure in a kayak too wheras a boat cannot react so quickly after hookup. Inshore snapper fishing was made more for kayaks than boats and the results speak for themselves!

With the fish still biting we left for home, after hooking up to probably 60 fish and landing/ releasing many. What an amazing trip, and one I very nearly missed out on! The snapper closed season started shortly afterwards and I spent a summer with little fishing due to housey stuff. But this trip will live in my memory as a session with good mates and a session on snapper that will be hard to beat – ever.

Yummy Gummy

I’m a kayak fisherman at heart, but still enjoy trips out in a conventional boat. When a mate (Kim) at work offered to take Callum (another colleague) and I out for an afternoon session in Cockburn Sound, I couldn’t resist.

Our late afternoon launch yielded a bunch of easily caught squid, but there was no sign of the abundant salmon that everyone talks about. It was freezing cold, blowing a strong (25 knot) easterly, and the further we went out, the rougher it got. Definitely not kayakable weather but comfortable in the boat. Gotta love a dry bum and lots of room occasionally!

We headed out to one of my kayak fishing spots out wide in the Sound, where I have caught several large snapper. I was hoping that we could get a nice pinky for Kim, who unfortunately seems to be the guy who never catches fish in his own boat while his guests do well. Armed with a bunch of squid heads, we anchored up over the reef after several unsuccessful attempts in the strong wind.

It soon became apparent that herring were in plague proportions, and our precious supply of fresh squid heads was mangled in no time. The only thing to do was use the herring, and fresh bait they sure were. My usual tactic for the night was to keep two rods handy, one for catching the herring, one for the larger fish. The herring could be reliably caught within 30 seconds of any cast, where it would be killed and put on the larger outfit before it had stopped bleeding. Perfect bait!

Darkness set in and Callum found some weight on his line. This woke up and started pulling drag. I was calling it for a small stingray, but when a nice Gummy Shark came up I was stoked. I love Gummy Shark to eat, they are one of my most favourite fish and I have only ever caught one (in Walpole). Knowing they are present in one of my regular Perth spots was good to know.

The night proved to have plenty of action, mainly on stingrays. Callum hooked up twice onto large stingrays that he had a lot of fun with and gave his tackle a good test. I hooked up onto a smaller one that fought near the surface and had blistering runs. We weren’t there to catch stingrays though, and I dropped a couple of decent non-ray feeling fish before I felt some good weight again.

This one was no Ray and I had high hopes for a Gummy Shark. On getting it the the surface this was confirmed, and a nice gummy shark at that. It was nearly 1.2 metres long, and woke up once it saw our torch light. It put up a spectacular fight around the boat, with big headshakes and throwing spray everywhere. We did not have a net large enough, and after several unsuccessful gaffing attempts, I decided to tail land it. It took a good 10 minutes and several more good runs before I managed to grip the tail and land it. I was stoked.

We got home at 2:30AM and I was out of bed again at 4:30AM for the Anzac Day dawn service. We ate the gummy shark for Anzac Day dinner (and gave the other half to Kim). What a yummy fish, one of my favourite. Thanks to Kim for having me on his boat, it is nice to have variety in fishing and the comforts of a boat are nice on a cold windy evening.

Catching the wrong “S”

A few years ago I just couldn’t catch snapper. 30 something trips of trying resulted in donuts, not even a hookup. Suddenly the drought broke a while back, and I have caught stacks since. But it appears a new curse has arisen, the curse of the salmon.

Some may consider Australian Salmon a rubbish fish, bad eating and so numerous at times that you just get sick of catching them. But I love their amazing fight, willingness to take poppers and their headshaking jumps that leave you with no doubt as to what has been hooked. After an amazing boat based session last year, I have been ultra keen to get one from the kayak. Late last year they were in Perth and it seemed that everyone else around me caught them, but not me. This year there are huge schools of salmon in Perth again, and as I still have not encountered a school while I had a rod handy, I thought it was time to target them.

Sundays forecast required a close eye on the weather

The inspiration for this mornings trip came yesterday, when Erin and I were shopping for furniture in Fremantle. Dressed in our non fishing clothes and without a skerrick of fishing gear in the car, we popped onto North Mole to see what was happening. We happened to arrive just as a big school of salmon moved through, and it was an amazing scene. Multiple huge salmon everywhere were attacking lures and bait on every cast, jumping everywhere and crossing lines. I think many who fish on North Mole are fairly casual anglers, without the best knot tying skills, and this showed as lure after lure was busted off by these hefty salmon. Salmon were taking poppers right at the base of the rocks and their first jump was landing them on dry land a second after hookup, and there were a lot of very happy anglers around. It was great to see so many people enjoying themselves, and I made the decision to come back the next day (today) in the kayak to see if a school returned.

The weather forecast for this morning was for dead calm until late morning, followed by a quick increase of winds to 30 knots in the afternoon. 30 knots is dangerous in a kayak, so I had to keep a close eye on the wind and plan leave for shore immediately when the first breath of wind appeared. Luke (Flippers) joined me for a bathers beach launch and we headed out in the glassy stillness as the sun rose.

We kept a close eye on a front looming on the horizon while the fishing conditions were ideal

The salmon just weren’t around. The hundreds of fish yesterday were replaced by a handful of boats and a crowded North Mole rock wall full of hopeful anglers casting lures in vain at nothing. Luke and I trolled lures, dropped soft plastics and kept an eye one everyone else for a couple of hours without luck. Luke put on a squid jig for a change, and that just happened to be the time when a small school came in and a salmon got hooked on his squid jig. After a short fight that the salmon won (including stealing the jig), Luke hooked up again on a lure and lost another fish, but I did not even get a touch. Apart from one boat landing a salmon, that was the only trace of salmon I saw all day.

Luke left for work, but I decided to stay out a bit longer in case the Salmon showed up. In the meantime I trolled a large x-rap that dived to about 4 metres, hoping to pick up a stray salmon that had lost its school. Some interesting arches appeared on the sounder, and a few seconds later on my drag went off while I was holding the rod. I hoped it was a salmon, but it had some suspcious and familiar headshakes. I was using light gear so it was a fun fight, but he was successfully landed, a 73cm Pinkie. I never thought I’d be disappointed to land a snapper instead of a salmon, but here it was! Can’t complain though.

The snapper liked this lure

I hate dealing with treble hooks on a kayak and it took a while to unhook safely, but soon I was trolling again. I found the school and hooked up once more, only to drop the fish after a fight of a couple of minutes. 2 more good strikes occurred before I could not find the school again.

As expected, the wind hit mid morning and increased rapidly from glassy smooth to whitecaps within 10 minutes. I left immediately and was in some hefty chop on the way back, even the swell had increased substantially. I was expecting this sort of weather and had packed minimalistically, with just all the right safety gear, but coming back to the beach I still was not expecting small breakers. It was fun doing a mini surf retrieve again, but by the time I had derigged, the weather had turned even nastier and the sea was in a state I would not dream of launching into. It’s amazing how fast things can change.

Thanks again for the company Luke. Even though I’m disappointed the Salmon eluded me, the consolation prize was not too bad. One day I’ll get a salmon from the yak – even if it takes me 30 odd trips and many accidental snapper in the process!

End of a great day

Early morning or late night is a matter of perspective…

If the early bird catches the worm, Luke Doherty and I need a good dose of Combantrin. Waking up at 2AM for a metro fishing trip was not particularly easy after 3 hours sleep, but a nice AM weather window amongst a week of rough weather and strong southerlies was too tempting. Luke and I both didn’t have to work that day so we found ourselves beach launching before 3AM, quite eager to find out what lurked in the inky darkness.

We had prepared for this trip a couple of days before with a lighthearted herring expedition to Fremantle fishing boat harbour. The herring were almost in plague proportions, following our soft plastics right back to our feet and grabbing the tails of the soft plastic if it was just slightly dangling in the water. We were hence armed with some nice fresh (and smelly) herring fillets that no self respecting snapper could resist. I might have even slipped a couple in for breakfast while on the water.

A sounder (or good GPS marks) are essential for pre AM launches, and soon we found some schools of fish. At that time of the morning snapper and all manner of other species can be find in water as shallow as 5 metres, where they hunt food sources that are out of their comfort zone later in the day. My rig just consisted of a couple of snelled 6/0 circle hooks and a tiny split shot, keeping the herring fillet rig drifting above the bottom.

The glassy smooth water was nice but the swell was up after the rough weather, making Luke and I feel a bit squeamish. I dropped the snelled herring fillet down in 7 metres of water, first cast for the morning, just after 3AM. Within 10 seconds line was peeling off in that unmistakable pinky fashion. A spirited fight later and my first fish for the trip (a pinky approaching 70cm) was landed. Couldn’t do much better than that on the first cast.

The snapper were still around and might next cast also was hammered, but dropped shortly afterwards. It was then a frustrating experience getting snagged during a hot bite, trying to re-tie a leader knot with a big school showing on the sounder. I cast again, and lost another fish. Another cast and one stayed connected, this time a 48cm Pinkie that had unfortunately swallowed both circle hooks down deep. As I fumbled around cutting the leader inside his mouth, my mirage drive pedals were sitting there without me touching them. Suddenly they started moving backwards and forwards by themself, freaky stuff in the darkness. I released the snapper, but it was in a bad way, floating on the surface and I did not dare to swim it to revive. Luke swears that something came up and ate it with a big splash, and it certainly disappeared somewhere.

Fishing with bait at that time of the morning is fraught with a scourge in certain spots. No, not stingrays or blowies or wrasse (which were all non existent at that hour). In some places every cast resulted in the tug tug tug of a squid, and they were so thick that they showed up on the sounder in a very distinctive return. One large specimen followed the bait kayak side, so I threw a squid jig overboard and caught him for some fresh bait. He inked my pants big time. I love Napisan.

The hot snapper bite lasted for 60 minutes or so then ubruptly stopped, well before first light. Tailor started to enter my mind, so when first light hit I tied on a popper and cast that into some tailorish looking spots. The popper worked its magic and I hooked and landed two nice sized tailor, who fought well right to the kayak. Cutting one tailor throat resulted in a heavy spattering of blood all over my face and shirt. I love Napisan.

The tailor were great fun, and bit at the much more relaxed hour of 6AM.

The sun rose and everything got quiet until Luke finally announced that he had hooked something (girly squeal here). A large octopus was lolling on the surface chewing on his live bait, and he wasn’t going near the thing. I rescued him from the dreaded sea monster and then (last night) ate the sea monster. Yummo. Octopus juices all over my pants were a bit smelly, thank god for Napisan.

The octopus in a more palatable form – yum

As the sun got a little higher and the place became a barren wasteland with no sign of pinkies, squid, tailor or octopus. Luke dragged the whole squid around for a while in the hope of attracting a Samson Fish, but no joy there, so the squid became human food too. There were no salmon about so we called it quits and landed, 1 hour before I would have needed to start work. I carried the mixed bag of dinner to the car before wiping the slime off on my shirt. Might need to stock up on more Napisan I think.

A great fishing trip despite the extreme fatigue I experienced that afternoon. Thanks Luke for a great mornings fishing and your entertaining company as always. Thanks also for being so scared of octopus that you gave it to me.

Epilogue:

I promised to invite Luke around to share in the Octopus, but ended up eating it all last night without telling him. It was very nice and tender after 1 hour marinating and 1 hour stewing. Please don’t tell Luke – I might need to buy one and pretend it was the one he caught. I’ll keep it whole though so he is forced to touch it.

The fresh tailor fillets were amazing. One I grilled and added a mushroom based sauce, and Erin and I loved it. I must mention that fresh and bled tailor fillets exceed many fish in the culinary department. The other was served as sashimi at a party and converted even the most food-wussy people.

The snapper fillets are still uneaten, though I did enjoy chewing the raw meat out of the head after filleting.

The Napisan worked well, and after 2 days of soaking my pants and shirts are as good as new. Well, that is except for the holes where I have cut out treble hooks with my braid scissors.

Nice mixed bag for dinner

A lovely mixed bag near a central Perth metro beach

Mixed bag

A weather and weekend availability window opened up this morning, which meant only one thing was going to happen. Metro offshore kayak fishing shenanigans!

Nice day on the water

Launching in the pre dawn gloom, the moonlight was incredibly bright and I followed Brendon around to our favourite spots. It was low tide and the light easterly made it a lovely morning to be out there. The sounder return was interesting but wasn’t showing any arches when I dropped my lightly weighted fresh herring fillet overboard. I took my second cast for the trip and I had only been fishing for a couple of minutes.

Fishing the 3-5kg outfit, I knew straight away that a decent snapper had taken the bait in that characteristic grab that the adult specimens have. He poured off a great stack of line and I tried to get him under control. Soon enough, I made headway and got him under the kayak. Most other snapper that I have caught don’t fight particularly hard after the first big run, but this one continued to battle me all the way to the net. He kept going back down into the reef, so I was relieved when I finally popped him into the net. I was pretty stoked at my biggest snapper from this spot and a big, fat healthy one at that. After cleaning the fish later, I found his guts full of crayfish, so I hope he takes on their taste

The tricky photoshoot of a live, slimey snapper. Photo by Brendon Chambers

Brendon and I kept fishing and I had a couple of missed takes. Some nice arches and schools showed up on the sounder, but the fish were notoriously hard to tempt. I suspect the majority of arches we were seeing were caused by large Buff

It always pays to make sure a UFO isn’t stalking you when landing a fish.

Brendon hooked up and landed a stonker of a flathead, which he kindly donated to the Paul and Erin dinner fund. As the sun got higher, the fishing dropped off but we were still enjoying the serene morning. Oddly, no skippy or Samson Fish were encountered and even the wrasse were in low numbers.

Brendons stonker flathead

I hooked up to something again that was fighting quite hard, and on pulling it up discovered something that always brings a big smile to my face. The King George Whiting was just shy of 50cm. Big KG’s have got to be the best combination of fighting ability and culinary talent out of most metro fish. Catching them in shallow water on light gear gets the most from them. I got to catch this one twice after he jumped from my hands during the photos (luckily still hooked).

Nice dinner size KG (photo by Brendon Chambers)

A great day on the water, and for the first time in a month Erin and I get to enjoy fish for dinner. Thanks heaps for the company and photos Brendon.

Season opening day Snapper and dangerous thunderstorm

Snapper fishing from a kayak is so addictive that it seems to dominate the fishing habits of many of us. However, far from being an inconvenience, when Cockburn Sound (near Perth) closes to snapper fishing on the 1st October each year, to me it is a welcome change to chase other species. When it re-opens on the 1st February my enthusiasm for this magnificent pink fish on our doorstep returns with gusto.

On the season opening day on Feb 1st this year, I found myself launching with Luke “Flippers” Doherty into a fairly stiff south easterly Cockburn Sound wind for the first time this year. Callum from my work and his two mates were also out on their kayaks hoping to get their first yak snapper. The sky was clear and there was virtually no cloud in what seemed like a stable weather system. There was a forecast for thunderstorms the whole week, but there was no sign of any so we headed out.

The fishing started off quietly, and I heard Callum off in the distance announce that he had landed a 45cm pinkie. This size fish are fun on light gear, even though they are undersized (WA’s minimum is 50cm) and must be released. Luke and I left the others to fish their new found spot and went a fair distance away.

There were plenty of baitfish around, but I expressed my doubts to Luke that “no-one catches snapper in February’. Straight afterwards I hooked up onto what felt like a nice snapper, and did the usual “walk the dog” extraction technique. I felt ecstatic that I’d hooked a snapper until the “snapper” came up behind me and I dragged him along the surface. The big NW blowie was released unharmed and I still have all fingers and toes.

The South Easterly wind was freshening but comfortable and we tried a different spot. While Luke trailed behind, I found a few promising arches on the sounder and soon landed and released two 45cm pinkies. Fish this size punch above their weight and would be great fun on bream gear. I was sitting on a nice school based on the arches on my sounder screen, and I told Luke that I was about to land another 45cm specimen. To my surprise the rod bent double and Luke commented “that is no 45cm fish” as I headed away from the danger zone and the fish went towards it.

To my surprise I landed it, only 66cm long but a great fish to start the season on opening day. In previous years it has taken months (or 3 whole seasons on one dry spell) to land my first snapper, so I was happy to break the season duck after about 1 hour of fishing.

The stiff south easterly wind had died off at this stage, leaving a millpond smooth sound that was beautiful to look at against the red glow caused by smoke from a nearby bushfire. We were getting a few hits and looking forward to a promising night when my wife, Erin, called. She was warning about a big storm approaching from the North, which I had completely missed in the forecast and while I was on the water (being so engrossed in the fishing). Sure enough, on the Northern horizon a big, dark bank of clouds was approaching. While they looked a fair distance away, Luke and I decided to start heading back to the launch spot as we were a few km’s away.
We passed Callum, Zack and co on the way back and warned them about the storm, but at that stage it visually did not look that threatening, so they decided to stay out a while longer. Luke and I kept looking at our sounders for a school of snapper as we headed back, until we started to see lightening on the northern horizon. I then checked the radar on my smart phone.

“Blimey Luke, we need to get out of here!”

The massive storm was headed our way and we forgot the fishing, opting for a quick getaway. Our main concern was lightning, as graphite rods on a flat ocean make a bad combination in a thunderstorm. I did not want to be caught out while loading the car either. We were not far from the launch spot at this stage but we pedalled hard while I called Callum, who was still fishing with the two others a fair distance away in the millpond conditions. I strongly suggested that they get off the water, and luckily they heeded the advice and started coming back despite the perfect windless conditions.

Luke and I got back before the storm and loaded the cars in the still conditions. I was starting to think that I had overreacted, but better safe than sorry, and we could see the storm coming closer. Callum and co were still out there and no-where in sight as the sun set behind the approaching bank of clouds. Luke and I helped each other get our kayaks on our separate car roofs, and he drove off before I had found my straps to secure it to the roof. Luke commented on a subtle new breath of wind coming from the North as he drove off.

I was looking in the boot for the straps in the calm conditions when suddenly, like an explosion, the wind hit. This wind was around 50 knots or more and my 30kg kayak flipped up on my roofracks and the nose flew off the edge of my car. Luckily my car doors were open and delayed it reaching the ground, and I caught it in time. The straps were still in the boot, and I was struggling to hold the kayak onto the roof, I really didn’t know what to do. Luckily a bit of old rope was just within reach on the back seat and I used it to stop the kayak flying away while I found the straps and secured it properly.

At this stage I was thanking my lucky stars that Luke and I weren’t still on the water, then remembered with more than a hint of anxiety that Callum and friends were still out there. The wind was so strong it would have been virtually impossible to go forwards, and probably backwards would have been a better description. Though I was worried, I kept tabs on the lads by checking in with returning boats (who also found the conditions difficult). Several of them had seen them and they appeared OK, so I kept the phone number to search and rescue in phone memory for the moment.

Callum and friends appeared well after dark just after the wind had died off somewhat. I work with Callum and have never seen him phased at anything until now. He and his friends are very fit, strong young blokes and have a pretty scary story to tell about the conditions out there. They were actually just outside the outer boat harbour when the storm hit but that was enough to have waves crashing shoulder high into them. At one stage, when they were close to the harbour entrance wall, they considered bailing out, abandoning the kayaks and swimming to the wall. Rafting up proved to be a good move by them and kept them all upright and safe. Luckily they made it back in one piece, cold and exhausted after quite a scare. Callum had needed to pedal so hard to get back that his near new mirage drive had all the cables stretch and fall loosely off, and we readjusted them today.

All of those who know this spot would realise it feels very safe, probably no worse that the Swan River in places. However, this thunderstorm was extreme. My advice – if a thunderstorm is approaching, get off the water as soon as possible if you are on open water, even if that is the Swan, Peel inlet or similar. I’m lucky that my wife was smart enough to keep an eye on the weather while I was so engrossed on my first snapper for the year . That may not have made it home if she wasn’t keeping an eye on my safety. bom.gov.au radar is my new friend if anything resembling a thunderstorm is forecast.

Stay safe guys and enjoy the pinkies when the weather gets better!