January 2005
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Picture #4
Picture #5
It was already the third week in January and the wind kept coming. Sheep weather alert, road weather alert, small craft wind alert and all the lerts you care to poke a stick at and at 100km/hr it was advice to be taken seriously, no trout is worth it.
As the days grew shorter the wind grew stronger. The third week in January had already started and the fly line was still dry since the last trip in December 04.
Serious withdrawal symptoms set in, physical deterioration of the right arm muscle, lack of concentration watching TV, mental deficiencies set in. When, when bloody when.
The 4-day weather forecast website http://www.bom.gov.au/products/IDG00074.shtml turned out to be the home page for the time being. With all systems being on standby for immediate take-off – ‘Code Orange’.
On Monday the 4-day weather map showed Wednesday or Thursday was a possibility with highland showers but little wind. Brendan at the Meteorology Bureau advised Thursday to be the better day – if nothing unforseen happens in the next day.
Wednesday morning I called Brendan ‘to update the Isobars’ confirming that there were no nasty surprises in store for us. He confirmed “GO for Arthurs”.
I e-mailed Donger: “GO tomorrow”. He came back to me within the hour with: “10.00 am sharp” – Bob.
The updated Thursday weather map still showed “GO”, one front gone and one not to arrive until Friday it looked good, Overcast – I like overcast.
Wednesday evening I talked to Ray who’s been at Arthur's on Tuesday with a mate and got one fish between them and, he said excusingly – we meet another guy up there who’s been fishing all day and got nothing. Well, that was them and this was us. But more importantly what would the fish do? Different day same shit?
When I heard Dongers car door slam my wristwatch showed 10:01 but as I looked up the kitchen door, the clock said 09:59. Well that’s close enough to 10:00 sharp!
The first look at the water, as we came down the road, confirmed light wind; it was going to be a promising start for the day. Picture #1
The Trout Whisperer was quickly launched as Donger was reminded to remove the tie-downs THIS time.
Donger fished his dog-nobbler on a floating line and I decided to pitch my ExP2 against Moles dun. As the first cast rolled across the water, a fish rose a meter or so from the boat to pick up a gum beetle. I just got a glimpse of his beautiful colouration but it was too late to pull the fly to him, he was down and gone, but a good omen, or so we thought.
What is it with this “or so we thought”? Well on the chance that I sound like a broken CD, it was not going to be a walkover or should I say fly over?
Donger struck first, but the fish was a tiddler and definitely undersized and so was his next fish. We changed location prompted by a wind change from SW to SE. Calmer water and the odd rising fish enticed Donger to go double dry and as our four flies were lying over 4m of water, a superb brown rose and took Dongers fly. The fish got airborne as soon as he felt the line. Again and again he showed us that he was a force to be reckoned with as all of his 3-lb slamming onto the water. And then there was nil.
This is by no means a religious website but my catholic upbringing forbids me to tell you what Donger exhumed from the pit of his throat. If you have seen the film the Exorcist and remember the scene of the devil possessed girl on the bed spewing bile you’ve got some idea. Now you convert that into poor French – Donger thinks he speaks poor French – then you have some idea what came across the water. Do I really need the Blessed Virgin Mary to come fishing with me next time to cleanse my boat?
He inspected the line and the tiny curl at the end of the tippet told him that the knot did let go. Either a casting knot or the knot to the fly gave way either way, the fish was gone; the fly was gone and so was my catholic faith. Now it was my turn to miss a fish that took one of my two duns, by the time I struck, he already decided not to play ball.
Just when I said, “got one” Donger got one too but his was for the keeps and mine was for the “go forth and procreate”, another marginal/pan size fish and there was no need to keep him, the club championship was over. Donger’s 2-lb fish should have weighed 2½ lb to be in good condition (picture #2) but we inspected his stomach anyway and could not quite determine what he was feeding on, looked like yesterday’s mushed-up dries.
Heavy rain interrupted the pleasantness of the day although the wind stayed down, the Gore-Tex weather jackets were put on and we kept fishing. No good eating wet sandwiches is it? Repeatedly we saw a trout rising here or there to take a gum beetle but as usual out of casting range, unless one can cast 70 m or more. No other insects/food appeared on the top. Donger went back to his dog nobbler and I changed back to my ultra fast sinking line. By now it was close to 20:00hrs and we gently drifted, protected by the shoreline from a NW wind, when Donger hooked an nice conditioned 2 ½ lb hen fish which was feeding on – no not dog nobblers - but gum beetles.
We were looking forward to the next two hours of dusk which would decided if our trip would be rewarded with more than a good day on the water. To the east of us we noticed a spectacular cloud formation moving towards us (Picture #3), descending towards the water and forming a dense, well defined and impenetrable wall of fog.
We were in a bay, which was kept ‘clean’ by a slight northerly breeze, just like a wind lane, but behind us in the trees fog was rolling towards us as well and we realised that we were caught out by a false sense of security. We figured out that once we cleared the bay, we would find fog between us and the boat ramp, which was at least 3km away west.
It was high time to abort fishing and race for safety. The boat lunged onto the plane as I gunned the engine and we raced out of the bay at 40km/hr and there it was – dense fog, just as we figured, but too late for comfort. Nightfall and fog are a lethal combination. Most of Arthur’s Lake shorelines are girthed by dead gum trees and while the depth sounder might indicated 5 m or so to the bottom you suddenly find a tree stump only centimetres under the water surface, just enough to leave prop engine and your goolies behind, which have a habit of jumping right into your throat.
Pointing the boat west and figuring that we were still in open and very calm waters we scooted on, when suddenly out of the fog the silhouette of a 10-m dead gumtree appeared. To say we shit ourselves was about the understatement. We were heading straight for shore and in no time the water depth showed 1 m. This is where a good GPS system pays for itself and we did not have one.
We knew where we were though and decided to follow the coastline towards the ramp. Picture #4 Visibility was down to 50m at times and we only just could see the shadowy grey contours of shoreline. At some stage we thought to see white buildings in the distance but it turned out to be a white signpost at the waters edge, probably reading something like ‘no camping past this point’. The engine tilted as high up as practical we heard a firm thud as the skeg found a solid underwater object and the depth sounder (sometimes ambiguously referred to as fish finder) confirmed our water depth to be half a meter. Picture #5
The boat ramp, which had 34 boat/trailers parked when we arrived, was down to four. Whoever was not home by now, was in deep manure, including the 4WD with a door sticker saying: Inland Fisheries Service.
Well, two fish in the bag, three returned and two lost and we were safe on shore. Earlier than we had planed but better safe than sorry.
If you would like to contact me for comments or contributions click here: thetroutwhisperer@bigpond.com