The stressful university exam period had finally ended. After months of hard work, long hours in the library and plenty of coffee to keep me going, I could finally relax.
Until only a few hours into my well-deserved break, I received an urgent mayday call from Dad who was on a fishing expedition with his cronies around d’Urville Island. Rough seas and some questionable launching made fishing difficult and, despite catching a few fish, they were in desperate need of someone to show how it’s done. The forecast expected the weather to deteriorate allowing for only two more days of fishing, so I quickly touched base with Mum at home and made my way to French Pass, to meet the crew and set up for a big day on the water.
The rain held off and the clouds cleared to reveal an appetising sunrise. A steady swell rocked the boat as we steamed up to the top of d’Urville to target some big winter kingfish.
Despite there being some sign on the sounder my enticing jig was snubbed by the kingies and I only managed one “fish on,” which was gone as fast as it came. Luckily for me, the other fishermen only pulled in one kingfish, half of which was taken by the tax man right at the surface.
With no success on the first species, I switched to a slow jig, attempting to redeem myself with some snapper. This provided a bit more action as, within minutes, I was hooked up. The light rod bent over and the reel screamed. Distinctive head shakes and strong runs indicated a nice snapper but with light gear, strong current, and 80 metres of line out, I had my work cut out for me. After a solid battle, the tug of war deteriorated and an orange glow emerged from the depths, a beautiful ten-pound snapper to show these old boys up. Despite landing the first (and biggest) snapper, the rest of the team up. The light rod bent over and the reel screamed. Distinctive head shakes and strong runs indicated a nice snapper but with light gear, strong current, and 80 metres of line out, I had my work cut out for me. After a solid battle, the tug of war deteriorated and an orange glow emerged from the depths, a beautiful ten-pound snapper to show these old boys up. Despite landing the first (and biggest) snapper, the rest of the team soon caught up. After me dropping a couple of nice snapper, they were quick to give me some stick.
The rush of snapper slowed as the top of the tide loomed. With no fish biting we fried up some fresh snapper for lunch and soaked in the sun before the radio crackled, “They’re on the bite!”
We raced around the corner to see one of the other boats holding up a nice 14-pounder.
It took a few attempts to get the drift right but once we were set, it was on. The guys were quickly in too, landing a big trevally and a couple of snapper, but, while they dealt with snags and tangles, I quietly hauled in two more big snapper to solidify my place at the top of the leaderboard.
We finished off the day with a quick drift for blue cod, where I once again silenced the crowd and showed them how it’s done—job done!
