Having endured two weeks straight of foul weather we were understandably anxious to get out yesterday, with light winds forecast, even though the forecast swell was 2m from the east, a swell that we consider marginal for launching at our north-facing launch point. The main reason we were keen to get out was that the forecast also showed little opportunity for the next seven days. Desperation levels were off the scale.
A dawn start was planned, with the proviso that rain or unfavourable winds at dawn might cause our organizer, Jaro, and other old codgers, like me, to stay in bed instead. In the event, it was raining at 5:00am, and 6:00, and 7:00 with more approaching and visible on the Mt Kanigan radar. But the winds were down. One of the participants, jag-one, travels from Gympie, around 90 minutes from launch, and eventually he decided that he was coming to Noosa anyway, with a planned launch time of 10:00. Jaro and I, noting an encouraging improvement in the local weather conditions, agreed that we’d also launch later than originally planned, as close as we reasonably could to jag-one’s nominated launch time.
Meanwhile pedro, bullet proof as he is, had launched anyway, in showers and squalls, at around 6:00am. But he’s a 50 year old youngster after all, and way younger than the rest of us!
And so it happened that I rolled into the damp carpark at around 10:30 and immediately recognized the only two people hanging about there. Richmond, Noosa Yakkers’ fish recorder, who was unable to launch today, had brought his camera down hoping to get some pics of us coming back IN, while jag-one was there finalizing launch preparations. Jaro, out of sight, was already on the beach with his yak. Richmond, adaptable as ever, changed his plans and opted to get some pics of us launching, and made his way out to a good vantage point on the end of the groyne. Without even a cursory look at the conditions I started to unload my yak.
By the time I got down to the beach, about ten minutes later, jaro and jag-one were lined up in the channel, waiting for an opportunity to get out through the break.
Jaro, closer to the wall, and jag-one in the channel. Pic by richmond
This is what was in store if the exit was mistimed. Pic by richmond
The long awaited break in the sets came and jaro and jag-one took the opportunity to go.
Pic by richmond
I was waiting and watching on the beach, ready to launch, or not. Now that they had got out OK, I knew I couldn’t turn around and go home. There were some sizeable waves dropping onto the sandbank and a photographer on the wall. My turn! All I had to do was time my arrival in the break zone properly or suffer the twin indignities of getting smashed and having the event video recorded.
Fortunately a lull arrived just after I boarded and so had an easy time of it compared with my two companions, getting out very quickly and almost completely dry.
Pic by richmond
And so we headed for Jew Shoal, four km out, where pedro had been fishing for several hours already and had caught a couple of fish, including a mac tuna which took a 190mm HB lure just as he arrived at the shoal at about sunrise.
My course was set for the eastern end of the shoal because I was pretty sure that the breeze out there would be from the east. Jaro and jag-one went further toward the west. Travelling was easy as the wind was light and there was no chop but the swell got more apparent the closer I got to Jew Shoal.
On arrival at Jew Shoal, SE of The Pinnacles at around 11:45, I encountered pedro and he confirmed by radio that he’d boated three snapper in this shallow area (around 15m) so I opted to try a drift there in the hope of emulating his success. After a couple of casts there with my SP rig I decided that it was a little shallow and snaggy for me so opted to head for deeper water which I knew to be just a little further east.
This move brought almost instantaneous results. I was drift fishing in 20m using only my 6kg threadline casting outfit, as I often do, rigged with a 1/8 ounce jighead loaded with a 100mm SP (pic later). The SP had slowly descended so that the kayak had drifted directly over the top of it as the jig sank. There was a quick strike and at first I thought it was an average keeper snapper (our "average" keeper is around 45-50cm, not big by the standards of many). But I quickly changed my mind as the fish took line and thumped away. Snapper like this can be easily worn down. There’s no need to apply maximum pressure; just keep working away steadily at the fish, retrieving line as the opportunity arises and letting it run when necessary. In a few minutes the snapper was lying beaten but still magnificent next to the yak, the gaff did its job and the fish was in the fish box. A nice fish, near 70cm and the sort of fish that would make anyone’s day better.
There’s the jig inside its mouth.
Safely in the fishbox of the Stealth. Later it measured 68 cm.
The SP and jighead which did the trick. Note the snapper teeth marks on the lead head.
As I said to pedro who paddled over to try my drift line, I could have gone home right now, quite happy with my day. It was noon and I’d only been fishing a few minutes.
As it turned out, that was my only action, fish wise, for the session. I was not to know that, of course, so kept trying, and hoping for more.
Pedro, meanwhile, was occasionally adding to his score. At one stage he got a snapper double header and jaro was nearby to take a pic.
Pic by jaro
Rain was all around us but we didn’t have heavy rain on us; once or twice light showers scudded across, but that’s all. Noosa Heads itself was getting heaps of rain so the visual results were interesting.
That’s jag-one in the foreground; pedro behind.
Noosa Head being masked by a heavy shower.
I think it was pedro who first raised the question of heading home, about seven hours after he’d launched. Jaro was keen to avoid the effects of the 13:15 low tide on the beach and its swell. Reasonable, we thought, so the move back didn’t start till close to 14:30, when we all headed back pretty much together.
From a couple of kilometres out we could tell from the white water around the rocks that the beach return was probably going to be challenging. The running in tide was still low and the waves were hollowing out and dropping with a crash about 20m out from the end of the groyne. Nowhere else along the beach, except perhaps for Coward's Corner in the east, offered a better landing option. At least with Middle Groyne you just have to run that 20-30m (really quickly) to get to safety in the deep water channel. It’s all in the timing, as usual. And there’s no way any of us can outrun the waves so we always get run down.
Pedro was ready to go first and Jaro and I soon afterward. The three of us, however, hung back like mice about to run past a scary cat, trying to judge the best time to go. We couldn’t hold too close to the end of the wall because the larger waves were steepening and breaking much further out than usual. I turned chest cam on and was about to go when Jaro shot through from behind me and launched himself at the sand monster in a truly noble sacrifice. What happened? Well you’ll just have to watch the one minute movie.
[I used to be able to get the youtube embed code to work on AKFF but can't anymore. Can anyone help with the tech details, please? Fixed, thanks to Craig.]
Pedro and I hit the beach together, right way up and looked back on a scene of desolation. And as we watched jaro work his way in after his sand monster workover, jag-one decided to go and was also gobbled up by the same insatiable demon hiding in the waves. I didn’t have the heart to film it but here he is eventually getting back to shore.
Some beach pics (no pretty fish holders available, due to the foul weather). I apologise for the water droplets on the lens but everything was sopping wet and it was raining also:
The main part of pedro’s catch, including another snapper bag limit, his second consecutive.
Me with my snapper, 68cm.
Thanks for reading, AKFFers; Tight lines.
