I was heading home after having quite a fair day, bagging out on snapper, couple of legal tailor, a just undersized jew, and a very small dusky flathead… was feeling quite mellow and a silly grin kept tugging at my lips… quite at peace with the world… not having any fish to clean today, due to releasing all of them… life's good!
I was thinking that Gary (sweed) perhaps should have tarried a wee while, until the snapper came back on the bite… Trev could have done a bit of drifting instead of trolling off to Redcliffe… perhaps they might have caught more snapper.
A radio call from K1 snapped me out of my smartarsedness (?) and back to reality… Trev had been radioing me for hours, as I had been him as well… but no radio contact was forthcoming. Finally, when he'd closed the distance, contact came at last.
He didn't sound near as pleased as was I about my good fortune fishing-wise… matter of fact sounded a little miffed about losing $40 worth of lures… one to a little tailor, and another to something that threatened to cart him to Moreton Island and back, but its teeth chopped the leader, clean as a whistle!
Not a happy chappy!
I decided to paddle the couple of K's to have a face to face with him. He was just about to try his first drift for the day… had been trolling since dawn, trying to regain the paddle fitness he'd lost through an enforced lay-off in recent months. I tossed out a couple of soft plastics and drifted with him.
We drifted in slightly different directions and at different paces as well… quite normal for us… and after about a kilometre, he headed back for another drift, but I just carried on, this being my last drift, then off home.
I hadn't counted on my extremely pugnacious four inch Electric Chicken Snap-back soft plastic picking on the biggest thing that happened to swim past…
Quietly fishing with bail-arm open, jerking the 30lb whiplash braid main-line repeatedly with not a lot of conviction, I was snapped out of my reverie by the line suddenly whistling through my fingers! Bail-arms just won't go back over near as quickly as needed in times like these, but finally it did, and the line never even flinched… just kept on going at the same frightening pace.
Jim thinks, "Big, BIG Snapper! You little ripper!"
I gave a couple of thumps to set the hook, line just kept on going… great! Wind in the overhead outfit… that was easy… everything else OK, get the yak following, losing too much line to play this fish from side on. "Bloody hell! If this is a snapper, it's a monster… nah! Couldn't be snapper… too big!"
Following it now, it's still taking line, so crank up the drag and now I'm going as fast as it is… he's heading just to the right of Trev, so no troubles there… I call out, "Comin' your way, Trev… fast!"
He looks up, realised that I was really motoring, then realises further that I'm not paddling! Fish On!!
"Give me a call when you've got it under control Jimbo! What do you reckon it is?"
"OK! I wouldn't have a clue, but it's big and strong!"
Next thing Trev's pedalling at my side… would you believe, coaching me all the way… "Don't put it to him too much, Jimbo… ease off a bit… gotta be a longtail… nothing else goes that fast and far… take it easy, mate…"
Me? I'm just hanging on… being carted wherever this fish wants to go… by this time, I've pumped and wound quite a lot of line back, and just playing a waiting game… still wondering what the hell is towing me towards Moreton.
Now that I've got all my line back, I can give it a bit of side pressure, and if it rips more line, will follow again to regain line… everything's going OK.
The fish is coming to the surface quite regularly, but although it's pretty close, identification is still not available. At different angles, I get lots of different thoughts as to what this fish is… cobia? No… Spaniard? No… lasting too long… Mac Tuna? No… going too strong too long… gotta be Longtail!
The fight seems to be heading North now, and Trev's doing nothing but keeping up, so he decides to troll for something better to do… it wasn't long before he regretted that decision, and me too.
The fish didn't like me getting too close, and dived beneath my yak, out the other side and did a large circle, picking up Trev's line as it went.
That caused alarm in me… I'd had that trouble the other day with my own second line, and the loose line went up through my rod guides as well… can't have that happening with this fish! Trev called out to me to cut the line… that he'd already lost $40 worth of lures and another wouldn't make that much difference… To me? He could cut the line, but I'm not going to… I'd never hear the end of that!
The fish seemed to revel in the trouble that was going on above the surface, so did another circle… that worked OK, so here's another and another! By this time, there was a rather large bunch of grapes around my line, and a hot fish beneath… what a dilemna!
Trev came alongside on my left, as I was working the fish on the right… (port and starboard sides if you prefer) and he began cutting line to try and clear the mess… by this time, I began hand-lining, as I couldn't wind line in without taking Trev's line through the guides as well.
Have you ever tried to handline a Tuna? With braid? I wouldn't recommend it to anybody, but here I was, doing exactly that!!! Trev offered me a pair of heavy gloves, but I discounted that as I was too bloody busy at the time.
Finally I was handling the 30lb Nitlon Fleurocarbon leader… about three metres of it… Trev, right up against me said he had three wraps around each of his hands, (with his gloves on) had cut the line and all was OK.
Around then, I had a mental picture of this fish getting sharked, and the line ripping through my hands… Trevor with three wraps over each gloved hand being hauled out of his yak, pushing me out of mine and all four of us in the water at the same time…
Grisly thought… but it could happen!
The Tuna during all this drama, had been swimming in ever decreasing circles just a couple of arm lengths away… smaller and smaller, and finally came up, absolutely spent!
I called for the gaff, and my assistant duly handed it to me (just like at the surgery) and dicking about a bit trying for a mouth shot, I finally slipped it in its mouth, sunk the hook, and hauled it over the side… Thank Gawd for that!!!
I have the idea that K1 was about as relieved as was I, that his line hadn't caused this fish to be lost.
Whew!
Trev stowed the fish away in his yak, and he pedalled, I paddled, we both piddled along the way… then I hit the shore to have Mark the plumber give me a hand to carry my yak to the car.
I told him that Trev was holding my catch in his yak, so he came down to have a gander… was most impressed, and even more so when told how I hand-lined it at the death.
We measured it against the rule I have on the side of the yak, and 1200cm was the length… Prior to this, Trev said his was bigger than mine, but after measuring it, he said that his wasn't bigger than mine after all… in another post some time back about things not being as they seem, he said he only had a one incher… I have mixed feelings about that.
Any way… it is the biggest fish I've caught… you've gotta be happy with that!
Piccies were taken, and off home… to clean fish after releasing fish all day… but this one wouldn't have survived… it had nothing left when it came up… absolutely nothing!
I hung around to help Trev with his yak, and he came home to show me how another AKFFer carves up tuna for the table.
And to top it all off… I misplaced my scales, so couldn't weigh it! Bummer!
Take a look at the photo of the soft plastics… the bottom one, ZMan paddle tail, which caught a 72cm snapper earlier on… the one at the top obviously the one that picked on the toona, and the middle one, what it looked like prior to going to war.
Gutsy little sod, eh?
Tight lines, Jimbo
I was thinking that Gary (sweed) perhaps should have tarried a wee while, until the snapper came back on the bite… Trev could have done a bit of drifting instead of trolling off to Redcliffe… perhaps they might have caught more snapper.
A radio call from K1 snapped me out of my smartarsedness (?) and back to reality… Trev had been radioing me for hours, as I had been him as well… but no radio contact was forthcoming. Finally, when he'd closed the distance, contact came at last.
He didn't sound near as pleased as was I about my good fortune fishing-wise… matter of fact sounded a little miffed about losing $40 worth of lures… one to a little tailor, and another to something that threatened to cart him to Moreton Island and back, but its teeth chopped the leader, clean as a whistle!
Not a happy chappy!
I decided to paddle the couple of K's to have a face to face with him. He was just about to try his first drift for the day… had been trolling since dawn, trying to regain the paddle fitness he'd lost through an enforced lay-off in recent months. I tossed out a couple of soft plastics and drifted with him.
We drifted in slightly different directions and at different paces as well… quite normal for us… and after about a kilometre, he headed back for another drift, but I just carried on, this being my last drift, then off home.
I hadn't counted on my extremely pugnacious four inch Electric Chicken Snap-back soft plastic picking on the biggest thing that happened to swim past…
Quietly fishing with bail-arm open, jerking the 30lb whiplash braid main-line repeatedly with not a lot of conviction, I was snapped out of my reverie by the line suddenly whistling through my fingers! Bail-arms just won't go back over near as quickly as needed in times like these, but finally it did, and the line never even flinched… just kept on going at the same frightening pace.
Jim thinks, "Big, BIG Snapper! You little ripper!"
I gave a couple of thumps to set the hook, line just kept on going… great! Wind in the overhead outfit… that was easy… everything else OK, get the yak following, losing too much line to play this fish from side on. "Bloody hell! If this is a snapper, it's a monster… nah! Couldn't be snapper… too big!"
Following it now, it's still taking line, so crank up the drag and now I'm going as fast as it is… he's heading just to the right of Trev, so no troubles there… I call out, "Comin' your way, Trev… fast!"
He looks up, realised that I was really motoring, then realises further that I'm not paddling! Fish On!!
"Give me a call when you've got it under control Jimbo! What do you reckon it is?"
"OK! I wouldn't have a clue, but it's big and strong!"
Next thing Trev's pedalling at my side… would you believe, coaching me all the way… "Don't put it to him too much, Jimbo… ease off a bit… gotta be a longtail… nothing else goes that fast and far… take it easy, mate…"
Me? I'm just hanging on… being carted wherever this fish wants to go… by this time, I've pumped and wound quite a lot of line back, and just playing a waiting game… still wondering what the hell is towing me towards Moreton.
Now that I've got all my line back, I can give it a bit of side pressure, and if it rips more line, will follow again to regain line… everything's going OK.
The fish is coming to the surface quite regularly, but although it's pretty close, identification is still not available. At different angles, I get lots of different thoughts as to what this fish is… cobia? No… Spaniard? No… lasting too long… Mac Tuna? No… going too strong too long… gotta be Longtail!
The fight seems to be heading North now, and Trev's doing nothing but keeping up, so he decides to troll for something better to do… it wasn't long before he regretted that decision, and me too.
The fish didn't like me getting too close, and dived beneath my yak, out the other side and did a large circle, picking up Trev's line as it went.
That caused alarm in me… I'd had that trouble the other day with my own second line, and the loose line went up through my rod guides as well… can't have that happening with this fish! Trev called out to me to cut the line… that he'd already lost $40 worth of lures and another wouldn't make that much difference… To me? He could cut the line, but I'm not going to… I'd never hear the end of that!
The fish seemed to revel in the trouble that was going on above the surface, so did another circle… that worked OK, so here's another and another! By this time, there was a rather large bunch of grapes around my line, and a hot fish beneath… what a dilemna!
Trev came alongside on my left, as I was working the fish on the right… (port and starboard sides if you prefer) and he began cutting line to try and clear the mess… by this time, I began hand-lining, as I couldn't wind line in without taking Trev's line through the guides as well.
Have you ever tried to handline a Tuna? With braid? I wouldn't recommend it to anybody, but here I was, doing exactly that!!! Trev offered me a pair of heavy gloves, but I discounted that as I was too bloody busy at the time.
Finally I was handling the 30lb Nitlon Fleurocarbon leader… about three metres of it… Trev, right up against me said he had three wraps around each of his hands, (with his gloves on) had cut the line and all was OK.
Around then, I had a mental picture of this fish getting sharked, and the line ripping through my hands… Trevor with three wraps over each gloved hand being hauled out of his yak, pushing me out of mine and all four of us in the water at the same time…
Grisly thought… but it could happen!
The Tuna during all this drama, had been swimming in ever decreasing circles just a couple of arm lengths away… smaller and smaller, and finally came up, absolutely spent!
I called for the gaff, and my assistant duly handed it to me (just like at the surgery) and dicking about a bit trying for a mouth shot, I finally slipped it in its mouth, sunk the hook, and hauled it over the side… Thank Gawd for that!!!
I have the idea that K1 was about as relieved as was I, that his line hadn't caused this fish to be lost.
Whew!
Trev stowed the fish away in his yak, and he pedalled, I paddled, we both piddled along the way… then I hit the shore to have Mark the plumber give me a hand to carry my yak to the car.
I told him that Trev was holding my catch in his yak, so he came down to have a gander… was most impressed, and even more so when told how I hand-lined it at the death.
We measured it against the rule I have on the side of the yak, and 1200cm was the length… Prior to this, Trev said his was bigger than mine, but after measuring it, he said that his wasn't bigger than mine after all… in another post some time back about things not being as they seem, he said he only had a one incher… I have mixed feelings about that.
Any way… it is the biggest fish I've caught… you've gotta be happy with that!
Piccies were taken, and off home… to clean fish after releasing fish all day… but this one wouldn't have survived… it had nothing left when it came up… absolutely nothing!
I hung around to help Trev with his yak, and he came home to show me how another AKFFer carves up tuna for the table.
And to top it all off… I misplaced my scales, so couldn't weigh it! Bummer!
Take a look at the photo of the soft plastics… the bottom one, ZMan paddle tail, which caught a 72cm snapper earlier on… the one at the top obviously the one that picked on the toona, and the middle one, what it looked like prior to going to war.
Gutsy little sod, eh?
Tight lines, Jimbo