[ARTICLE - Beach Worming .......... How I Do It At Forster! by Roberta]

What a great read, thank you so much.

After read your post, I am very confident to catch my first worm.

Ta,

Scott

[Fishing the Hacking]

It's not often that I fish with other people these days.

Am I becoming antisocial or perhaps I think I know everything already and that no-one can teach me anything new?

It's a question I've had time to ponder for a while.

And yet I can't say I know the answer.

Perhaps the fact that it's become my routine to fish alone and that as I get older, I am becoming less and less welcoming of a change, seeking refuge from the unknown in the safety of my tried and trusted procedures, whereby the only person with which to talk is my reflection on the other side of the gunwale, in the surface of the water.

Saturday night saw an intruder into that reflection, as the sun set over the heavily wooded western horizon.

That intruder was Pongrass 18ft (AKA Chris) and as a funny coincidence, his boat is named intruder as well.

The evening began with a lovely female voice telling me "after 300 metres, cross the roundabout, second exit".

Unfortunately her name was tom-tom and she didn't want to talk about anything other than getting me to Chris's house.

Some women are all business and no sense of humour !

Then I shook hands with Chris and said G'day, as he sheepishly said to me that Tom-Tom's are not real people.

They are not even voice-recognition systems so having a conversation with a GPS isn't going to get me anywhere….

I met his lovely family, his neighbours, their neighbours, in fact most of the street.

They all said they will keep an eye out on my car for me while we fished the dark hours.

I never felt so secure ! I even left the club lock off the steering wheel.

After loading up all my gear into his boat, we drove off to Grays point boat ramp.

God's country !

The place is beautiful and unspoilt, with clear waters and land based fishos by the hundreds.

I was filled with awe at the sheer beauty, especially in the dwindling light of the evening.

The setting sun set the trees ablaze with hues of crimson, red and orange.

But being winter, we both knew there was no warmth in the blazing trees, and that the temp was soon to drop to teeth-chattering lows.

But we were prepared.

I had my thermal undies on, but I wasn't going to discuss underwear with another guy I just met.

Gotta have a few little rules you know. We don't want to create afalse impression....

Then I look forward as we navigated the channel out and I realised that we were just about to side-swipe a port channel marker pole.

"Look out Chris – you just missed the pole".

So Chris replies – "No worries mate, I'm a pole hugger".

Well I thought to myself that I won't twist his words and turn it into a bad joke.

If I can resist talking about male thermal undies, I can resist hassling him about his choice of words.

We pushed on into the falling tide.

Fishing with someone new also has it's little 'rules'.

No rod-grabbing.

No crude jokes.

No farting.

No lot's of things until you settle into a routine.

I had beans in my Mexican lunch....

I had to break the ice on that last rule, so while Chris set the anchor, I hit the afterburners and basically turned the boat 180 degrees!

Jet propulsion ! Net result, I pushed the boat off our mark so I had to reset the anchor. That was my punishment.

The sun had set and it was then that I realized how dark and quiet it was. The cold had set in and every time I exhaled, the steam would cloud my vision and obscure visibility of my rod tip. This was also something I was not used to. Fishing after dark with steamy breath....

It was then that Chris broke out the coffee.

His lovely wife had made it for us.

I kid you not, that coffee was made in a nuclear reactor as it was so hot.

It warped the plastic cup, but it warmed us up a treat...

So did the thermal undies....oh there I go again....

We looked around us and could see people in their billion dollar mansions sipping champagne and eating canupes as they entertained their dinner guests in their spacious balmy rumpus rooms.

They didn't know what they were missing.

We didn't know what we were missing.

The fish didn't know what they were missing because THEY were missing !

No-one knew much of anything that night because no-one caught anything.

Chris was stumped as his beloved spot was quiet.

We moved to spot number 2 and he assured me he has caught heaps of fish here.

Out went the burley, the baits and more methane/sulphur.

I had a hookup on a decent bream but it buried me.

Chris's wife calls to give him some reassuring words.

"Think positive and the fish will come" she said.

Wow, what a nice sentiment.

I wish my wife would say that instead of laughing and suggesting that I pack it in for the night…

Moving again, Chris was gobsmacked that we hadn't done any good.

We moved back upstream, closer to the ramp and tried one more spot

I managed a couple of nice 40cm+ whiting but no bream.

We headed back to the ramp on a dead low tide – 2ft of water under the transducer.

I wasn't going in to drag the boat across the shallows at 9:30pm.

Back at the house at 10:00pm, we parked the car in the driveway and opened the doors.

We were greeted by a loud party a few houses away, playing AKKA DAKKA at 1000 decibels.

Chris was heading out the next morning (again) and needed his beauty sleep.

Not with that ruckus going on.

Us fishos think that there are some deck-heads on the water, but they don't compare to those that stay on land.

The music went all night, but Chris still managed to get organized….

It was a beautiful evening, in spite of catching only two fish.

It's not often that I fish with other people these days.

It's a question I've had time to ponder for a while.

And now, I think I'm getting closer to the answer.

I haven't met enough people like Chris in my life.

Perhaps the reflection with whom I've talked over the last 7 years can embrace another.

I think it's the answer.

Tony

Great reading and really nice photos, thanks Tony. Loved your report