It was a dawn service with a difference… a big difference.
ANZAC Weekend saw my son Lachlan and I heading out in the dark aboard Tony Vousden’s boat Yeah Bouy, heading for his secret spot that is so secret, even he struggles to find it! His excuse this time? It was dark.
It was blowing a light, chilly southerly and the fishing started slowly. After hooking a few spiky dogs, Tony and I wondered if the snapper had already moved to warmer, deeper water, but he suddenly yelled, “Fish on!”
It was indeed a nice snapper. That lifted our hopes because if there’s one, there’re more. Although we’ve had more productive days, we did also get three nice gurnard.
Lachlan had never seen or caught a barracouta before, so was feeling quite pleased with himself at landing a demon from the deep.
By this time the wind had dropped back to nothing—it was perfect.
Next thing Lachlan yelled, “Daaaaad!”
I turned around to see a priceless look on his face and his rod bent over like
never before and that tell tail thumping nod. We were only in 18m and Lachlan’s line suddenly headed in the the direction of the anchor rope— I thought we may not even get to see this fish. I dashed up to the bow and quickly hauled in slack on the anchor rope. After a few pulls I could see the snapper had only gone around the rope once, which called for an immediate team effort; Lachlan’s rod was passed up the bow, around the rope and back to him.
Tony and Lachlan couldn’t see the fish but, from the bow, I could see it was a beauty.
I didn’t say anything just in case. The look on Lachlan’s face was priceless—a beam of delight indelibly etched onto his features.
Tony and Lachlan hit their straps and went onto fill the chillybin with some very respectable keepers, while I remained fish-less but still buzzing from watching my boy catch the thumper.
The snaps went off the bite and we relocated to the western end of Adele Island, where we hoped to pick up a bluey or two—no such luck.
I had a rod in the water but was resigned to the fact that my day wasn’t going to improve. I was sitting up the front eating dry bread that I had to buy on the way to Tony’s, because Lachlan forgot to remind me to pack the lunch I made the night before!
Then, “Yay,” my rod finally bent over and I had a taste of action. It wasn’t huge but a nice panny.
And that was that; the fishing was brought to an abrupt halt as the forecasted southerly kicked in, chopping up the water very quickly. Hugging the coast, we ventured far into Marahau Bay before sneaking back into Kaiteriteri.
A bloody good day all round and, even though it was by far not my best day fishing, it was an awesome dad moment. Good on you son—tin-arse!
