wazatherfisherman

What a great story! Fantastic! Thanks for sharing it, love to hear of captures from outside Australia. Congratulations on record fish and great pictures as well.

One of my best mates started fishing later in life than most of the rest of the guys. Nearly all the boys were pretty keen from an early age, however, John, although interested, had always found other ways to spend his time and barring a couple of "family" fishing days, had little experience. One of the aspects of fishing that appealed to him, was the idea of obtaining one's own food from a free bait source- such as using cabbage for Blackfish, cunjevoi for Drummer, crabs for Bream and live bait such as Yellowtail to chase larger fish- of course you needed something to catch the Yellowtail on first, but as they were readily obtainable on a variety of baits, they fitted into the criteria of the experience. So where to take him? As John lived at North Bondi, it would be logical to go rock fishing. Hard to beat going down the cliffs only a km further north and make it a long trip, so we could try a variety of methods. With this in mind, we planned a three day trip, climbing down on a Friday morning and staying until the Sunday afternoon.The trip went pretty well, we caught a variety of fish and John decided fishing was indeed a good pastime. A few years later, he married and moved up north, from Sydney to Murwillumbah and with a new family, fishing of course took a backseat. As time went by, fishing came back to the fore. I made a couple of trips up to see him each year and we mainly went spinning for Flathead with lighter tackle and hard body lures, before broadening our species range by going both Bass fishing- mainly around Clarrie Hall dam and the upper Tweed River- and also beach fishing on one of the many great fishing beaches the far north coast has to offer. Flathead spinning remained pretty much the "go-to" choice though, as there are countless productive areas and you could get a few somewhere, pretty much any time of the day, regardless of the tide or conditions, if you put in a bit of time chasing them. At holiday's end each time, we would have done at least a few "trifecta days"- when we'd go Bass fishing on dawn, then Flathead spinning during the day, followed by a late afternoon session on the beach. Later this changed to a "quaddie day" after we discovered Mangrove Jack and added the red devils to the agenda. Other than the Flathead, most of the fishing centred around bait fishing. Live Shrimp for Bass, Pippies, Worms or Nippers for the beach and live Mullet or Snub Nosed Gar for the Jacks. Tailor fishing from the beach with Garfish was about the only form of fishing we wouldn't use some form of live bait for. Flathead remained the sole lure only target and as we mainly used hard body lures, were always trying out different types of mainly "minnow' patterns. Deep divers, Shallow runners, jointed styles, suspending types, slow rollers, soft tails, stick baits- we tried heaps before narrowing the selection down to a few "reliable" favourites. Murwillumbah doesn't have a specialty fishing tackle shop, although a few of the shops do sell a small range of tackle, only the old barber shop had a few different, quality items, including a small range of lures, many of which were pretty old. While having his hair cut, John would often talk about fishing with the barber and of course the subject of catching Flathead on lures came up. After talking to the barber- who was an old fisherman himself, and checking out some of the ancient lures on the wall, the barber suggested that his "go-to" lure for Flathead was a Rapala Husky Jerk minnow and it just so happened that he had only one left. Hard to get he said. The gold one on the wall also just so happened to be the "best" colour for Flathead he said, and pretty much gauranteed some good fish in the nearby Tweed River he said, so John took the advice and bought the old lure. Wasn't cheap, but the barber insisted it was a good investment. It was about 6 inches long, gold sides, white belly strip and a black line along the top. A shallow runner with the short, clear plastic bib. Dived about 3 or 4 feet. Over the next couple of years, every time we went out Flathead spinning, usually within the first half hour or so, John would try the Husky Jerk, but sadly, not one Flathead succumbed to it's charm. He caught his share of fish, just not on the old lure, always on something else and it started to become a bit of a ritual. Arrive at location, tie on the Jerk and give it a go until one of the group caught a Flathead on something else, then he'd change to one of the other favourite "proven" lures and usually get himself a few fish. Just not on the Jerk. We started fishing with two other good mates-Wayne and his son Matt- and after a couple of trips, they suggested that maybe we should try trolling for Flathead in Mooball Creek, which empties into the sea, through a tiny breakwall on Pottsville Beach- which is about 20 odd miles south of the Queensland border. The creek itself is barely 100 yards wide and mostly less than about 10 feet deep and meanders for a few miles parallel to the long Wooyung Beach. The first few times we fished there, we caught heaps of Flathead. We'd just troll along in the nice clear water over a very sandy bottom, until we got a fish, then cut the motor and all switch to casting the lures instead. Whenever we got a couple more fish fairly quickly, we'd stay for about 15 or so minutes, otherwise it would be about 6 or 7 casts each, then resume trolling. Over time, we learned to try and find the poddy Mullet schools, which could be anywhere along the length of the creek, the Flathead schools were almost always close by and once found, we'd stay and catch enough for a few feeds. John of course persisted with the Jerk each trip- it looked great in the water, but didn't dive deep enough for trolling, however, as the Flathead were usually lurking near the Mullet- which were usually in shallower water anyway, he would continue with the Jerk for the casting part anyway. Besides, he was convinced it was going to get fish. As time went by (a couple of years actually) we started teasing him with all sorts of banter about the lure, often making up stories about what we'd seen or heard in relation to the Husky Jerk, like "just heard downtown that the word was out, someone had finally bought the old lure the barber had- they're going to have a street parade to celebrate" or "heard the barber could finally retire happy, got rid of the lure" or "see the local paper? on the cover the headline says 'Jerk buys Jerk'" or "hear about the barber?- found another one of those lures and sold it to a city slicker, told him they're great for Blackfish"- this sort of rubbish talk always went on, with poor John on the end of what became more and more elaborate stories about the Husky Jerk. Still he persisted with it, seemingly immune to all the joking at his expense. Then we went on a trip to Wooli, staying in a nice holiday house right on the beach. Wayne, Matt and their family and another two groups of friends came also and hired caravans in the van park just across from where we were. It was the first week of the Sydney Olympic Games and Wooli seemed pretty much deserted- It's primarily a holiday town, pretty small and "sleepy" with really nice beaches and an estuary that runs along parallel to the beach. Great fishing spot. Looked extra good for Flathead spinning, with a couple of miles of sandbanks spilling into a deeper channel, with plenty of weed patches fringing the sand. Wasn't long before John, Wayne and I were off wading and casting these banks, a box of lures carried in one of those beach shoulder bags each and one of those short handled landing nets that trout fishers hang from their belt. Looked promising and we waded out about thigh deep and started casting the most likely looking spot. No fish at the first spot, however John spotted some bait fish showering a little further away and we quietly moved through the water until close enough to cast at a nice sand patch with some weed on the deeper channel side. We stood in a line, probably about 10 yards apart, with John in the centre, flanked by Wayne and I. Outfits were just 6 ft light spinning rods fitted with 1000 size spin reels and we all used 6 lb mono with 10 lb leaders. We had about 20 or 30 lures each, comprising mainly of the ones we regularly had success with. John as usual, tied on the Husky Jerk. The method was pretty much standard Flathead fare- cast, give the rod enough of a sweep to pull the lure down so it touched the bottom and work it slowly back- everyone has their own retrieve style. Work the immediate area with half a dozen or so casts, then all move slowly about 10 or 15 yards down the bank and repeat. Often moving down like this, when you find a concentration of bait, there'll be a school of Flathead very close by, sometimes just a few fish, sometimes a lot- particularly in springtime spawning aggregations when big numbers of smaller males mass around the big females. After moving a couple of times, we found ourselves standing just upstream of a small weed bank that lay in about 4 feet of water, with small sand patches all around it. The telltale flashes of poddy Mullet on the shallower land side were what we'd been looking for and we all nodded to each other and cast. John hooked up! The Husky Jerk had finally fooled a fish! The grin covered his entire face! Wayne and I of course ribbed him and said it was probably a Toad or maybe he'd jagged a Mullet, anything other than a Flathead until it was safely in the net. John was jubilant and the curse of the Jerk had finally been broken! Wayne and I continued casting while John unhooked his fish and transferred it from the little net to his wading bag. He cast the Jerk again and hooked up almost immediately. This time he was a bit more cocky as he played the fish and soon Flattie number two joined it's mate in the wading bag. Wayne and I kept casting. With fish number two safely in the wading bag, out goes the Husky Jerk again, a few winds and bang! John is on again. This time, as he plays the fish, he starts to return fire some of the old "Jerk" banter- touche! Fish number three secured and out goes the Jerk again, to be taken almost straight away! John is in his element, laughing and joking, playing the fish so casually, enjoying the moment. Neither Wayne nor I could believe it- as not a strike between us and all casting the same small patch. Better change lures. Lures changed, more casts, still nothing. John meanwhile has finally got the Jerk out of the latest fish, which had really engulfed it and took some unhooking with one hand while in the net. Fish number four safe in the bag, not a word from him this time, just a cartoon-sized grin as the Jerk sailed from the rod towards the sand patch, stopping short of his usually distance due to the line being a bit "buried" from the pressure of the last hook-up. Once again, a couple of turns of the handle and bang! On again, even with the "false cast" not landing that far away from us. Flathead number five soon joins it's clan in the bag. "This bag's getting a bit heavy now" says cheeky John. No reply from Wayne or I, who were onto about our third or fourth lure change, still with no result. "Maybe you should let me choose a lure each for you guys" then "you'd better have a close look at my lure, could be the way I tie them on" etc etc. Two more Flathead making seven in seven casts and it had become ridiculous. Wayne and I had made about 10 lure changes by this stage, still without a strike between us. John decided to observe instead of cast, "giving you guys a chance to get one" his mantra. Wayne finally got one and the pressure was then on me. John decided to show me how he did it (I said I wasn't interested in watching, but secretly looked!) and he cast again, this time hooking a fish that really took off and had his drag singing. He played it for a few minutes and on getting it close, realised there was no way it was going to fit in the little net, so made the decision to walk it in to shore- probably about 100 yards or more from our watery position. Wayne being the good bloke that he is, said he'd help John with the big fish and they started the slow walk in. Great, surely I'm going to get one now. About 20 more casts and finally I hook up. About the same size as all the others John has landed- around a pound and a half. The net is with the boys inshore and even though it's not a big fish, I decide to walk it into shore as well- can't risk losing it and ending up with a donut! Wayne walks part of the way out and nets my fish and as we've got enough, we trudge back to the caravan park where all our companions are sitting having afternoon tea. John is triumphant! Not only did he finally break the "hoodoo" of the lure, but in fact caught eight Flathead in eight casts. The "legend" of the Husky Jerk was born

Great article Derek! Excellent information for anyone who wants to chase squid and cuttlefish. Thanks for doing such a great job, you covered everything. Just need some crumbs and hot oil now

What a great idea- I just signed up

Nice catch David well done. You never know where they'll turn up next. Did you use Pilchards or live Yellowtail?

Hi Dieter the gaff shot would have been the end of me I reckon, would have pulled me straight in and probably been dragged down while being smashed in the head by the tail! The reactions of Ross and Doug were as quick as mine and I cut the lanyards of all my gaffs and nets after that. The whole event was surreal as it happened so slowly, normally when you have a fish come after a hooked fish you're landing, it's really fast- like a Kingie chasing something up to the rocks, not so the big Jewie. I didn't know they could just "rise" like that either. The eye looking at us was bigger than a tennis ball I reckon, and in a relatively shallow bay where you'd least expect something like that. The Flathead were gone too after it left and that also was something I wouldn't have expected- that anything like a Jew would eat a Flathead but I guess it's all food

Thanks GF ! I hope so too! Wanted to go to Port Stephens for the meet up but won't make it this time, however definitely something to aim for. Probably dream about that Jewie tonight!

Thanks Yowie! I am, but it's just a real slow process, however I'll fish again before too long and man am I looking forward to it!

Hi JAKSShark that giant fish is as vivid to me now as when I saw it. Sights like that never leave your memory I guess

Hi Yowie I'd like nothing more, but am disabled with a couple of serious medical conditions. Hopefully at some stage I will be able to go again, in the meantime, this is therapy!

Hi Pete the old Halvorsen's were the "ducks guts" of recreational hire boats in the 50's, no doubt your folks had some great times on them! They were by today's standards a bit spartan, but had the feel of "a caravan on water" and made overnight stays on the river both possible and fun. Did about trips on them before we discovered houseboats

Hi bessell1955 when I worked at the Australian Fishing Museum, museum director Hank Newman who was South African born, brought some photo's of their "Kob" in to show me. The scientific name for Kob is Argyrosomus hololepidotus and the Australian species Argyrosomus japonicus which look identical. The South Africans regularly catch them over the old 100 pound mark and fish over 150 lb are caught each year

We'd gone on a Hairtail trip, hiring a Halvorsen cruiser from Bobbin Head for five days, but the weather before we left had been shocking. It had rained pretty heavily for almost two weeks and the water in the Cowan Creek system was really dirty. Normally, due to it's direct proximity to the sea and the fact there are minimal feeder creeks, it clears up fairly quickly from even heavy storms. A few big tides are usually enough to return Cowan to it's normal emerald green colour. Sadly for us, it remained really dirty for the entire trip, which was no good at all for Hairtail fishing, as they prefer clearer water. New tactics were needed if we were going to get any fish on the trip this year. Generally, the fishing is usually planned around one of the big four spots in Cowan, these being Akuna, Waratah, Yeomans and Jerusalem Bays, as they, along with Smiths Creek, are the traditional Hairtail grounds and we fished them each year- the wind direction often being the deciding factor of which one we went to on the start of the trip. Depending on results each night, we would change bays the next morning as you have to give the motor a decent run to charge the boat's batteries. After trying Waratah and Jerusalem Bays the first two nights and only getting a couple of Bream and Flathead between the seven on board, we decided to go and have a look at the twin bays of Refuge and America Bay, which are right near the mouth of the Cowan Creek system. Going any further than that would lead to being exposed to the deluge of muddy water which always flows from the Hawkesbury River after continual rain. On arriving at the mouth of the two bays, we decided that America Bay, with it's big number of moorings was going to mean easy anchorage and it was well protected from the seemingly never ending southerly wind, that had battered the coast for days. So into America Bay and boat moored securely. Normally on these trips, a big effort fishing for Yellowtail on the first day provides enough live bait to last for several nights fishing, as they are kept alive in a floating plastic washing basket, sitting inside a bike inner tube, this year however, we'd only managed a couple and had none in reserve, so all hands on deck fishing for "Yakka's". A couple of hours fishing and no Yakka's to be seen, only a few tiny bream, not a good result. We put it down to the dirty colour of the water and again had to rethink strategy, maybe we could find a few closer to shore, as most of the shoreline of Cowan has plenty of them if you sat and used a decent and constant burley trail. So Steve and I grabbed a couple of Yakka hand-lines, the "Yakka" tackle box (which just had size 14 long shank hooks and various small bits of split shot) some hamburger mince for bait (the best Yakka bait!) and a small bucket of "squished" white bread, which was flavoured with a little bit of whale oil and we hopped in the Halvorsen's dingy and rowed in to the shore, tying the boat's tow rope up to a fallen tree, hanging just over the water. You could just see the bottom through the discoloured water and it was probably about 5 feet deep. We got a small continuous burley stream established and sat quietly waiting for the expected (or hoped for!) Yakka's to turn up, it was late afternoon and the tide incoming about two hours from being full high. About twenty minutes after we started putting the burley in, a fish grabbed the bait on the 4 lb Platil Strong mono and after a few seconds, had broken the line pretty easily. Bream for sure, they are always happy to take mince, especially in a nice burley trail. Re rig, another hookup, another bust off. Both of us lost a few fish each, before we decided we were wasting our time using the 4 lb hand-lines and not a Yakka in sight either. They called out from the big boat, moored about a hundred yards away, that dinner was nearly ready, so we left our "Bream spot" and rowed back. Steve was keen to go back and have another go at the Bream, but rain fell constantly for a couple of hours after dinner, making that look like not being much fun in the tiny dingy. Side covers on the Halvorsen clipped down and back to having a drink and playing cards like we'd done for the last couple of days. As the night went on, three of the crew decided to turn in, too many band hands and a drink or two too many. By midnight, only Steve, Ross and I were still keen to fish on. The poly dingy looked anything other than inviting, with a bit of water on the deck from the rain, plenty on the bottom of the boat and everything pretty wet, so Ross opted to stay and fish from the outer deck of the Halvorsen, while Steve and I got organised to have a proper go at the Bream. To minimise noise, we cut a heap of nice small baits and put them in an ice cream container on the dingy's middle seat. Pilchard tails and small pieces of Bonito fillet, along with some decent quality frozen Hawkesbury prawns was the bait and we took about 3/4 of a bucket of hand squished bread, soaked in water and added some squashed Pilchard and a little whale oil for the burley. The burley is dispensed with a plastic ladle as the oil makes it slimy and sticky and you just can't fish with a hand-line with oily hands. Gear this time was a 6 ft light spin rod each, combined with a 2500 size spin reel and 6 lb mono and a hand-line each of 10 lb Tortue. Rig was just a 1/0 suicide hook tied straight on, no leader, swivel or sinker. A container of hooks in the pocket each, pliers, forceps and a knife completed the kit. A small torch each, already weakened from two nights of use and a life-jacket each to sit on, a couple of rags and a towel. So we wouldn't make any noise after landing a fish, we sat a large size fish box on the middle seat and half filled it with water and sat the box lid on top. About as simple as fishing could get. So with very quiet dipping of the dingy's oars, we rowed slowly over to the same tree as earlier and tied the tow rope on the bow to the tree again- these dingy's don't come with any form of anchor. Due to the cloud cover, it was pitch dark in close to the shore also. It was now nearly 1.30 am, the tide on the rise again and it probably only took about fifteen minutes after we started the burley, for the fish to arrive. At first, the usual tiny, picky bites that timid Bream transmit, followed by sharper bites revealing a fish of decent size was mouthing the bait. Give them some line, then a little more and they'd have the bait down. Very easy on the hand-line to tell exactly what is going on and easy to feed line without any resistance. We started getting them pretty easily and they were nice school sized fish around the pound and a quarter mark. We were fishing the prawns on the rods, casting outwards from the shore where the tree was, but the hand-lines were only thrown parallel to the shore-line about 10 feet away from the boat and these were baited with Pilchard or Bonito and were getting most of the action, only every now and then one of the rods went off and in every case, the fish would have swallowed the bait so far down, you just broke off and tied another hook on. Four or five times throughout the night, a fish got around one of the tree branches and we had to put the torch on to untangle it, each time, regardless of care to not put the light on the water, the school would spook and no more action for about ten minutes, but by keeping the burley stream going and being really quiet, the fish would be back again.On a couple of occasions a fish also managed to get free before being lifted over the fish box and flapped around on the floor, this too, spooked them away, but they'd come back with the burley. By dawn, we had a pretty impressive box of Bream, with a few nudging around the two pound mark. As we'd been sitting, straddling the boats bench seats- one leg each side of the seat, with no backrest for about five hours, by dawn, I'd just about had it and when I dropped my last fish on the floor of the dingy before I could subdue it, it jumped around like mad and spooked them off again. No more bites and after about fifteen minutes, I said I'd had enough, and wanted to go and wash the filth of Bonito, Pilchard, Prawns and whale oil burley off my hands and have a nice hot cuppa, after all it was winter, so we rowed back to the Halvorsen to find Ross awake and still fishing. Looking down on the dingy from above, he asked how we'd gone? Real good the reply- what about you? Not a single fish. Before we'd left on the Bream mission, Ross had asked me what he should put out, as there were about fifteen rods rigged up, sitting on the roof (there isn't enough room inside the Halvorsen's as the back section is converted to bunk beds of a night) and my only suggestion had been to make sure he had a whole Pilchard out, for any chance of a Hairtail and of course to keep trying for Yakka's. He'd had Pilchard pieces out all night, but not a whole one. Does this make a difference? Absolutely. I got out of the dingy and was relieved to stretch my legs. Steve, having just caught the most fish he'd ever caught, enjoyed the session so much, decided to head straight back to see if he could get a few more Bream! On hearing there hadn't been a whole Pilchard out all night, I grabbed my Hairtail rigged rod off the roof and put a Pilchard on the set of hooks, complete with wire trace and tossed it out the back of the boat, then clicked the ratchet on the Alvey and sat the rod inside next to the stairs that you climb down and into the Halvorsen. Right next to the stairs are two bunk beds and other mate Doug, in the lower one had just woken up. I went to put the kettle on, but before I got to the stove, the ratchet on the Alvey rang out, as a fish had grabbed the Pilchard. A good sized Flattie was reeled in and I lifted it over the back and had to bring it right inside, where it shook itself off the hooks.and lay on the lino floor. Ross was devastated! He'd been there all night and to make matters worse, the Flattie had grabbed the bait on the wire trace- not something you'd recommend when rigging for Flathead. Another Pilchard on, cast out again- still from the inside of the vessel, ratchet on, rod down, now for the kettle- bang! Ratchet alarm goes again and an identical Flattie is dragged aboard. Again, this one just hooked on one of the hooks of the gang, and it comes off on the floor right next to the first one. Scenario repeated, another Pilchard, cast again, this time though I held the rod and bang! Flathead number three comes aboard to join it's mates. As the fish are squirming around on the floor next to Doug's bed, he's now wide awake and makes the "polite" suggestion that I should put the B*@# fish somewhere else so he can get up, besides I was going to make a cuppa for the three of us. Fair enough! I get a towel and take the three fish into the the shower, where we'd stowed the fish esky overnight, kill them and put them in. Doug tends to the kettle, he doesn't want me touching anything with a whole nights fish-filth on my hands! Ross in the mean time, has found a heavy 40 lb hand-line, complete with a set of ganged hooks and throws a whole Pilchard out, it's the last Pilchard within reach, so I climb back up the three stairs onto the outside deck to grab a few more from the bait esky. Ross hooks a Flattie pretty well as soon as his bait hits the bottom. This one's larger than the first three (which were all about two and a half pound- nice eating size!) and as it's Ross's first good fish of the trip, he's playing it gently, regardless of having the "big" line. Halvorsen cruisers have a Marlin board at the back of the boat, which is basically a boarding platform about four feet wide, that sits a few inches above waterline, making getting in and out of the dingy an easy process and Ross stepped down on it to bring his Flathead up. Then, calling the fish for a huge one, he says get the gaff, which I do- we usually take a couple of gaffs and leave one at each end of the boat- the one at the stern is a short handle about four feet long, with a wrist lanyard of Venetian blind cord. I put my hand through the lanyard and join Ross on the Marlin board to gaff his huge Flathead (which turns out to be only about three pound!) Hearing the excitement outside, Doug comes out from inside and stands above us on the deck as the "giant" Flathead comes into view. What happens next, is a sight that the three of us will never forget. We were looking straight down into the murky water and just below the Flathead, what initially appeared to look like a huge fish with an almost "triangular" shaped head was rising fast, not swimming, but just rising up in the water column. Ross instinctively pulled his Flattie up and simply lifted it out of the water and onto the Marlin board to get it away from it's pursuer. The triangular head however, kept rising up, only revealing it's true identity as it reached the surface. It was an absolutely massive Jewie and it had risen up, virtually motionless, from below and arrived on the surface only inches from the Marlin board. Still having the gaff in hand, my initial reaction was to gaff it- it was certainly well in range and almost lying still on the surface, but in one of those moments of "self preservation" I only moved the gaff to above the fish, before realising the wrist loop was on. It's pretty amazing the amount of information our brains can process, because all three of us realised in an instant that I had the wrist loop on and that gaffing it would have probably resulted in disaster, as the fish was so massive and totally green, it hadn't done anything bar rise up. Doug had instinctively moved to grab me and Ross moved to block the attempt, but my brain had already decided not to do it. The huge fish then did a slow roll, it's massive tail breaking the surface and the huge brown-yellow looking eye seeming to stare at us. It then sank, the same way it had appeared, barely seeming to move at all, it certainly wasn't in a hurry. Ross then said "Do you reckon it was going to eat the Flathead?" Yes the reply- put the Flathead back in! Which he did and let a bit of line out, a sharp tug on the line and the Flathead was gone, with Ross unsure if the Jewie got it or it simply got off. The three of us kept looking at the water where the monster fish had been, as if waiting for it to reappear, which of course it didn't. Wow, what a moment, Doug said he was glad to see it and both Ross and I were glad we had a third person see it. Without exaggeration, the Jewie was as broad as a keg and Sharks,Tuna and Marlin aside, by far the largest fish we'd ever come across. Several years later, while viewing the weigh-in of a spearfishing competition at Little Beach Port Stephens, I saw a Jewie weighed in that went right on 90 lb (40.83 kg). After weighing, the fish was placed on the grass and I walked up to it, standing what I reckoned was the same distance away as our America Bay monster. Our one was much bigger. I was going to post this story earlier, but was sidetracked and put up a different one, however, Ross who lives at Old Errowal Bay on St Georges Basin these days, sent me a message out of the blue that just said "Thank God you didn't gaff the Jewie" and said I should do the story of it. The very same afternoon as we experienced the monster, and after moving to Smiths Creek, Ross caught a Jewie barely larger than a Pilchard. We talk about that day whenever we all get together.

Hi Joel 95 just buy a keeper net and leave your fish in it in the water until you are going to leave. If you catch more/other fish you can release the ones you don't want and they will have had time to recover from capture. To ensure they can move freely in the keeper net, stretch it out around something like a bucket turned sideways for a couple of days before you go so there's a bigger cavity in it for them to move around in. They used to be available in a "light-bulb" shape from better tackle shops, but I haven't seen those for a fair while.

Hi Dieter have never heard of one caught on a fish bait before, only a couple of Silver Drummer who have small sharper teeth. Maybe some of the larger fish lost at night are them? Definitely omnivorous as like Bream, they eat almost anything that is an easy meal. Hence being called Pigs. Have caught them on ab gut, cunje, crabs, cabbage, weed, prawns, bread, nippers, worms and fresh squid in differing locations. At Bondi Murk they were fishing for them with bullocks liver dipped in kero! Nearly all the big ones on either cunje or crabs (mainly red crabs) If fishing specifically for them, cunje is the bait of choice now ab gut is off limits. Salted cunje works well also. At times of rough seas, when whole pods are dislodged intact, even as the pods that have been washed in,rot in the sun, there are usually numbers of fish in close proximity that will try getting to the cunje at higher tides- aka "potholing or pussyfooting"- two good examples of these locations are Long Reef platform and more so Curracurrang Bay, where plenty of cunje gets washed up in amongst the southern boulder side of the bay and is only reachable to the fish on the higher parts of the bigger high tides. After a few days of really big southerly swell, there are always fish tucked up in the southernmost corner of the bay, in amongst the boulders, waiting for a chance to get to the rotting cunje. Years ago, while fishing at the "Gutters" between Little Bluefish and Bluefish Pt's another mate Steve (who is actually a Raider) and I sat watching heaps of big Luderick floating up onto the southern side of gutter number two to get at the really long streamer cabbage growing on it. After watching for a while, we tried fishing the gutter, but with no success initially, so I went above the ledge and watched the fish for a while to see what the go was. While watching, I spotted 4 big Pigs all crammed in a small hole about 4 feet in diameter, directly under where I was sitting, they could have gorged on the cabbage like the Luderick were doing, but they were doing something else, still appeared to be feeding though. On going down on the ledge at low tide to have a look, I discovered that there were about 20 odd small cunje's growing in the hole and some were obviously torn open with no contents left inside. The hole was probably only a foot deeper than the rest of the ledge it sat on and it was the first time I'd ever seen such large fish in almost no water (the Luderick were left high and dry between swells some of the time) but it made me realise they know where the food is. The same day, on the opposite north side of gutter two, we also watched a Groper about 25-30 lb continually float up and "slide" along the ledge with it's head up under a long crevice, using the water run-off to move itself along. It was obviously feeding on red crabs. So in one day I watched 3 different species get their food from off rocks that were only submerged at high tide. Each species were actually quite vulnerable (I thought) but seemed well versed in doing what they were doing. On returning the next day to the same spot, the sea was even flatter than the previous day and the masses of fish observed the first day, were nowhere to be seen. With most of this type of evidence pointing towards fishing higher tidal stages, they are one species that definitely responds well to a constant burley stream and can actually be caught on all stages of the tide. Spots like the "Tablet" which is a small cunje covered island on the northeast corner of Burning Palms southern rock platform (known as "Oyster") are actually only accessible to fishers on the lower stages of the tide, as there is a permanent wave break due east, which throws a curling wave towards the shore, even on dead flat seas. The gutter between the island and the platform holds heaps of small Pigs, and is a top spot for them as the tide goes out. There are also good Bream and quality Luderick in there, although the Luderick are best in there when the sun disappears in the afternoon. Bobby corking works really well in this location, with cunje for the Pigs and crabs for the Bream during daylight hours. So if I was going to target them during daylight hours, cunje would be the standout choice, crabs second and probably prawns, bread or cabbage in that order

Well done Andrew! Nice fish!

Well done- best eating fish in the sea!

Hi Rob good to hear! They are a great fish to chase through winter as they are one species that doesn't shut down. Best time for large fish in Sydney metro area is October, when they are in spawning aggregations and feed aggressively during this time. It's quite common to burley up a school of large ones during October, however, landing them is the challenge! Fish over 4 kg are probably the dirtiest fighters of all rock species and require luck as well as skill and good tackle to be a "land-able" proposition. Small fish (under 2 kg) from deep water locations are certainly realistic on lighter tackle though. Some good locations around Sydney are South Whale Beach ledges, "Donkey's" around the front of Julianne at Little Bay and the "Tablet" a small rocky islet at the southern platform of Burning Palms Beach, but can be found around most ledges along the coast that have good cabbage growth and/or cunje beds. They are also present in the harbour and in years past have caught them as far up as Cremorne when chasing Luderick, although they are generally under a kg and have a "kelpy" smell and taste, even after bleeding. Dobroyd Head and Middle Head have some better sized ones, but I consider those two areas more as "ocean" fishing, due to being affected by swell and wave action. The simple Sydney rock fisho's rig of a pea sized ball sinker running between a swivel and a 2/0 suicide (Octopus or Big Red pattern) is the best method for "dropping" a bait down walls, or the alternative for both snaggy areas, shallow water and avoiding pickers, is an egg sized running bobby cork with appropriate sized ball sinker to weight the cork/bait down, then a swivel and followed by 45-60 cm of leader, then hook. When fishing rough terrain make sure the leader is slightly less than main line, so in case of snags, only the hook is lost. Bites on the cork rig are usually quite violent downs and on the dropping rig, the bite is pretty much the same as larger Bream. Personally, I only give the fish about a meter and a half of line on the bite before striking, as they get a head of steam up quickly and it is imperative they are stopped before reaching the bottom or they'll find either an obstacle to cut your line on or a crevice to wedge in. In plenty of fishing advice books/columns authors have stated if you get wedged by a fish, to simply slacken off and wait- I don't agree with this advice as I have tried it plenty of times on light tackle and the fish don't come out, even after waiting about 10 minutes. A better approach in my view is to pull hard and on rare occasions the fish comes out, although mostly, your line will break. Better off re-rigging and trying again, your line is usually damaged anyway if you get crevice or cracked. Eating quality is high if bled and filleted/skinned. Best of luck when you go.

Hi AVR and welcome. I used to fish the eastern suburbs rocks for Pigs and caught them up to 6.5 kg with average fish over 3 kg. As said above, Ab gut was excellent bait, but banned due to the Ganglioneuritis virus which is highly infectious and survives being frozen/processed, enabling transmission of the disease to healthy populations of Abalone. I don't think it affects humans, but is banned to preserve existing Abalone stocks from becoming contaminated. Next best bait for large fish is a whole unbroken cunje interior as large as you can get. To retrieve the interior so it stays intact, push your knife straight down on the side from the top of the pod and cut around the entire pod. Gently twist the top as you lift and once in hand, slip your thumb under the meat to prise it away from the "lid". You need to do this on each side as the anchor points under the lid are like two teats- once they have been released from the lid you should have an unbroken sack with the two teats (or nipples). By not breaking the sack you don't disturb the "guts" of the cunje- which is the delicate red part and the yellow- this helps in minimising pickers and whole pods attract the opportunist large fish who will "muscle" their way to the bait before the pests. If there are heaps of pickers, small whole red crabs are next best, just remove a rear leg and insert hook through the socket and out through the crabs belly. Small red crabs can be obtained by attaching a pink plastic octopus skirt- the ones used for trolling- on a piece of strong wire about 4-5 ft long and twirling it through waterline crevices. Use a larger skirt -say 6 to 8 inch length and the crabs will run out of the cracks and can be grabbed by hand. This is a better method than how I was shown originally, which was to plunge both arms down a crevice, with hands about 2 feet apart and slowly bring your hands together. The biting type crabs- "scuttley's, sowrie's and reef crabs" all run from your hands, while the red crabs stay put and hang on. When "feeling" for crabs, when you get both hands together you only have the non biter's. Both eels and octopus are not present in the cracks where there are numbers of crabs, just beware if you can't see any crabs as they might have exited due to threat of either of these, but safer and easy to use the plastic octopus "frightener" When using cabbage, try to find some "streamer" cabbage, which usually grows out of the red-brown short growth on the lowest ledges, mainly where there is water run-off. It is long and thin, commonly about a half inch wide by 8-12 inches long. A large bunch of these streamers is an attractive bait for bigger fish, but a single long streamer sent out as a Luderick bait is often taken. Personally, have done far better with this type of cabbage as opposed to the usual "flowering" broad leaf type or Black cabbage (which is olive green, has many perforations and grows individually, submerged in pools) As for where to cast in the wash, look for run-off points of the ledge, which continually return water from the platform, as this is the natural place fish are looking for food. Most of our Pig fishing was actually straight down deep edges of over 25-30 ft, the big fish sit along these walls looking for stuff coming over. If using cabbage however, bobby cork your cabbage between 3-6 ft if fishing the wash in close, as it takes cabbage a while to sink naturally and fish searching wash areas for cabbage are used to taking it closer to the surface. We had a spot called "Pig Rock" at the Mattens at Dover Heights, where both a really huge pool flowed off next to it and there was a massive cunje bed only yards away. Although around 30-35 ft deep, the big Pigs were usually only about 12-15 feet under the surface as that was the level the natural run-off food would have sunk to at the location. They would wolf the bait down as it sank down along the wall below where we stood. The gun burley for big Black Drummer is chicken layer pellets. They need to be completely soaked until they break down, if not completely broken down, the fish will ignore your bait and gorge on the pellets.They are right to use when they have broken down into a mud-like consistency, they get the fish into a good feeding pattern and they beat the rubbish fish and Bream, Tarwhine etc to the bait 90% of the time. If bobby cork fishing the wash zones and you are having problems with Kelpfish etc , come up about 18 inches in depth and use large baits. Bread works well if pickers are around and Kelpies aren't that interested in it either. We used to bobby cork for them at places like Burning Palms in the Royal National Park and do well on the smaller ones using cunje set about 10 ft under a cork and cast to the shore side of rock outcrops. There is a spot there known as the "Tablet" which produces a lot of smaller Pigs on dead flat sea days and it was easy to get them there on 12 lb line. When collecting cunje via the "whole-pod" method, it's wise to only take one cunje from each cluster, so as the rest aren't disturbed and of course check regulations re bait collecting. When pussy-footing use a small piece of lead just to keep you in contact with the bait unless fishing in under 3 ft of water, you'll kmow when ones taken it! Hope this information is useful. Any other questions feel free to ask. They are my second favourite fish to fight (after Kingfish) and are great to eat. As for line size for the eastern suburbs, we used 18 lb Tortue for them and lost 50% of the ones we hooked, go up to 23 lb and you get more than 50% less bites. If chasing the 2-4lb models you get a lot more bites on 12-14 lb , but you'll lose the odd one and most of any real big ones Regards Waza

Thanks Rebel!

Hi Pete knowing exactly where those crevices are at Moe's you've got my sympathy! Running and jumping them from the tip of Moe's was always race against that blasted wave break. Wouldn't want to go in the horseshoe where they empty either. Those barnacles are so damaging on skin. Been in twice fishing and twice while just walking/swimming, it's no fun, especially in remote places. Safety gear so sensible to wear and take. Like you, I reckon I was in some sort of shock

Hi Noelm those volcano barnacles are shocking to have a ride over. One of the old Mattens crew- Frank- had a ride over them on his backside wearing only speedo's, he got some shocking injuries that bled for a couple of hours. Still had to climb the cliff to get home though.

Hi Yowie it's amazing when those giant boulders are just "gone". The big one at the Mattens was as big as a shipping container and 40+ yards from the water, nobody could believe it was gone, especially from where it was sitting

When you're young, you do things that are often foolhardy, even downright dangerous. When I was 17, I used to get Wednesday's off work and usually go fishing, either to White Rock near Bradleys Head in the Harbour, or often to the Mattens at Dover Heights. Both locations during the week you'd usually have the spot to yourself, which can be OK for the Harbour, but rock fishing alone is far too risky. Anything can happen, other than the obvious dangers of climbing cliffs, negotiating tracks and the ever present swell, something as simple as turning an ankle can leave you in a helpless position, with nobody to either render assistance or raise any alarm in case of a more serious predicament or immobility. So trips to somewhere like the Mattens were always with companions. Nevertheless, when young, like they say- "you're 10 feet tall and bullet-proof"- which is great confidence-wise, but not necessarily always a good thing in regards to safety. The plan had been to travel to mentor Wally's place at North Bondi and go down the cliff and just spend the day chasing Blackfish, however, Wally couldn't go at the last minute due to his wife becoming ill and he rang me just as I was about to walk down to Croydon railway station to get the train to Central. Bugger- what to do now? Gear and lunch packed- go to the Harbour? No weed or cabbage though and although quality cabbage grows on the sides of the zoo wharf, you need someone to hold your legs while you stretch over then under the wharf to reach it. Maybe I could still go to the Mattens? If the sea is as predicted- "slight seas on a low swell" and I stick to the safer spots, should be OK. So off to get the train to Central, then the bus from Eddy Avenue to Dover Heights. On arrival at the cliff top park, first thing all the fishermen do is walk slightly south of the spot you get over the fence, so you can view the conditions far below. A quick look revealed a really flat ocean, however it's an unwritten rule of rock fishing to have a long look at the sea, as sometimes there might be a swell that's quite far apart, even though it looks flat, it can still be too dangerous for fishing. About fifteen minutes is the "accepted" time for viewing the sea, barring rogue waves, you get a pretty good idea of any pattern provided by watching the sea-to-land water movement. Looked pretty flat, maybe too flat in fact. No wash means no food going in naturally, so fish are naturally more cautious and obviously unable to gorge themselves, like Blackfish often do when feeding. Sea observed, decision made, down I go, being more careful than usual. Safe at the bottom of the climb, gear untied from pulley and rope tied off to a sandstone protrusion. About half an hour from getting over the fence at the top and I'm at the spot. No water coming over anywhere, bar the end of "Bombie" ledge, which is only fish-able on the lower part of the tide and then only during flat seas as it's only just above waterline. The whole location is a Blackfisher's paradise, offering up almost every kind of fishing scenario, from a tidal "lake" where you could fish either 6-7 ft deep in the main body of water, or about a foot deep in the shallow end- the most exciting form of Blackfish fishing, to various deep water washes, soupy white water fishing, cunje beds and shallower boulder bottomed drifts. Unusual "straight-edge" fishing for them is also on offer on really flat days, in another spot there, cunje is used instead of green growth and when you can fish there, action is also really fast. So gear rigged, fixed float set about 11 and a half feet deep- about 6 inches short of the rod's length, 6 and a half pound Tortue mono on the Golden Eagle centerpin greased the night before with Vaseline to keep it floating. Fingers given a good wash to make sure no Vaseline taints the bait. Shoes swapped for rock plates. Keep-net unrolled. Film container with a few spare hooks and an extra couple of bits of sheet-lead in the pocket. Now which spot to try first. As there was hardly any swell at all, there wasn't much in the way of wash and if there's no wash going in, then the fish are either really scattered or more likely in an area where at least a little water is moving back off the platforms, bringing in a little food, or at least the chance of some. On days such as this one, with clear water- due to little turbulence, you might take a while to bring them in with burley, as it doesn't disperse with minimal current, often trying a few of the spots before you locate larger numbers of fish, then "activating" them into feeding mode. After trying three spots and only catching a couple of fish, I decided to go down onto "Greeny", a long low platform straight out in front of the cave, that we used for a base when staying overnight. There is a large pool all over the back of the platform, which flows off to the most southern extremity of the Mattens, emptying in a permanent wash. Normally, there are really large fish off Greeny, but due to it being low, it's only safe to fish the lower section of the tide. In years to come, it became our number one spot for big Bream and where most of the guys caught their biggest Snapper, often while Tailor fishing in the dark. This day however, the Blackfish weren't there and a few drifts and a heap of burley kicked in provided only a couple of "Cocky's"- Rock Cale- a species treated with contempt by most ocean Blackie fishers. After having a look at the nice, soupy looking wash at the extreme end of Greeny- the area's only "permanent" wash, I decided that as the tide went down a bit more and no water at all had come anywhere near coming onto the ledge, that it would be OK to try there next. This spot was called "Bombie", as about 30 yards out from the end of the platform, there is a huge rock under the water that comes up to within about 8 or 9 feet from the surface and it displaces inward moving swell, throwing small curling waves and "lumps" of water in different directions. There are always fish hanging around this spot, as there are a couple of swirling eddy's, keeping any food washed in in a small area and the water naturally pulls outwards from the ledge. There is also a large cunje bed against the shore, abundant red crabs and really long "streamer" cabbage- the favourite food of the biggest Blackfish. These streamers, up to about an inch wide and eighteen inches long, grow very close to the edge and when the tide covered the ledge, the big Blackfish often come right up onto the rocks, grab a huge bunch of streamers and tear the whole lot off, before rolling back into the water. Watching them from high up above, floating up en-masse and shaking violently to tear the streamers off is quite surreal, with numbers of them actually lying high and dry for a time, waiting for the next swell to float them back off. On calm days however, with virtually nothing much being dislodged, the fish feed on what's called "black cabbage"- which is the softer (than the strong streamers) green cabbage that grows permanently under water in the larger pools, most other cabbage is exposed at some stage of the tide- black cabbage isn't black, but in fact darker olive green and grows as individual plants more so than in a "colony" of others. It is also softer to touch and has multiple perforations, or holes, throughout the individual leaf structure. The reason the fish feed on it during calm conditions is that due to it's soft, more fragile texture and small individual root system, it is the only cabbage to break off and wash in with minimal wave action during calm seas. I guess fish instinctively know what should be/is washed in and black cabbage is the go-to cabbage for glassed out conditions due to it's availability to the fish. So after baiting up with black cabbage (which I'd only just learned about) I moved to "Bombie" and cast out well away from the danger zone of close to the rocks- danger zone? Yes danger zone because there are large numbers of big Black Drummer close to the edge at this spot, mainly in the 6-8 lb size range, and too hard to stop on Blackfish tackle in this particular location, some of the deep water spots you'd occasionally manage to stop one, but not where the bottom's in sight- they just go too hard. Drift commenced, float moves to the closest eddy and down it goes. Beauty, hooked up. Two minutes later and a nice fat Blackie is lunging around close to the edge. I look south as I maneuver the fish to my selected wash up spot and suddenly hear the noise that chills rock fishers to the bone- the sound of the water dropping rapidly right on the edge. Large drops mean large rises in terms of water, and as I turned 90 degrees to face the sound, I was confronted by the level of the ocean at over waist height, just on my low spot on the end of the ledge. The bombie had thrown up a lump of water directly at me. I was standing right in the most vulnerable place too, right on the edge, before I could brace for impact or stand on one leg leaning into the wave - the usual "defence" for a swell over the ledge- the water pushed me sideways, straight off the edge and into the water, where I went under in about 15 foot of water. Within a few seconds I was about 7 or 8 feet out, in the natural current, but away from the edge. Instant panic. Everything you've learned and read about what to do if you go in, says swim out a bit from the rocks so you don't get "sucked down" with the water flow, but instinct wants you to get out immediately. I still had the rod in my hand and I didn't want to let go of it, I'd built the rod and it wasn't new, but it was my first quality Blackfish reel- a Grice and Young "Golden Eagle" and it had taken a while to save up for- in 1978 four days work only gave me about $72 clear. Even though the sea was really flat, when you only have your head out of the water, everything looks bigger- the height of the platform to climb back out on, the distance out from shore, the next rising bit of swell, albeit really small, the little bit of soupy looking water- which also looked sinister- I've always been worried about sharks after seeing some big ones just "appear" from out of nowhere. How your perspective can change in just a few seconds. Also and forefront in my mind was that the two eddy's situated off this particular location, just slowly swirled around in a circle, with anything drawn in, such as a float, would be held pretty much where it was. Getting back in and away from these eddy's could be a life or death move. Some years later, two of the guys- Fraser and Brad were to find out, that making it out of these same eddy's is very difficult indeed, after both being washed in from the same location, under pretty similar sea circumstances, only this time, Rob, who wasn't taken by the wave that got them both, was quick in getting the pulley rope from the cave and managing to get it to them. Brad was to later say that he didn't think he was going to be able to stay afloat, as trying to swim out of the eddy, wearing heavy rock plated shoes, was like swimming with bricks tied to his feet, regardless that he was a good swimmer. So with rod still in hand, I swam sidestroke towards the big cunje bed adjacent to where I was originally going to wash my Blackfish out on. The bed, slopes gently into the water from just off the cliff wall and is completely covered in cunje "pods", it sits about 3 feet lower than the platform I got knocked off, but due to the angle of it, combined with both water run-off from the big pool behind the ledge and the oncoming wave/swell action, the water is quite turbulent, however there isn't much current. I had to swim hard, as I knew if I got taken into the eddy I'd be in trouble. I made it away from the drifting area, out of the current, and just as I was wondering where to aim for, another push from the water behind me landed me on the cunje bed, where I found myself standing up as the water receded. At first, I couldn't move as my rock plates had sunk in between cunje pods and I guess now that I was just startled at being back on solid footing without having to do much, but I snapped out of it pretty quickly, got my stuck plates up and ran the 6 or 7 yards to the safety of the back of the platform. Phew! Only then did I realise that I was OK, not a scratch on me and I still had my rod and reel in hand. Winding the line in from the reel, which had had no tension on it whatsoever, I discovered the line was wrapped around the cunje in multiple spots, so I broke it off and climbed up off Greeny and went to sit in the sun to dry off from my untimely swim. It took me a fair while to stop shaking and longer to dry off. About an hour passed before I re-rigged and went to fish a safer spot, keeping in mind what had happened and how lucky I'd been to not get caught in the swirling eddy. After fishing for a short time, I decided to give it away for the day and go home before peak travel time. I got unusually nervous climbing back up the cliff and took the goat track very carefully also. Thinking about the whole event while on the way home on the bus, it seemed to hit home as to how lucky I was and I couldn't wait to get back to Central, then on the train home to Croydon. I didn't dare tell my Mum that I'd gone by myself, as she would have banned me from going again, but I did fish the same spot plenty more times, albeit never by myself again. This might sound like I didn't learn much of a lesson from the experience, but I did. NEVER go rock fishing by yourself- it's just stupidity.

Hi KC next time you see them that cheap buy a few! You're a gourmet chef, I bet you could turn them into a wonderful dish. I bought some real big ones one year to take up for the "Greenback" tournament at Cabarita Beach (there are other species prizes on offer also) and thought they might be good for some Jew. My mate's wife spotted them and said you guys won't even use them, you should leave them here and we'll put them on the bbq. We did- they are really nice to eat, like a giant sweet prawn