slinkymalinky

Nice work with the fishing and the photos, Greg. Good to hear you're getting the fly rods back out. I've been back at the tying bench and picking up some new gear myself to get back into it more seriously. There's something about a fly rod loading up with that first cast of the day that just gets into your blood. Hope to see some good pics when you head west. Cheers, Slinky

Congrats Moro Mou They'll come a lot easier now you've got your first! Cheers, Slinky

One thing to think about though is that you want your fly touching down on the bottom and then jumping up off the bottom as you strip.... not just sliding along the bottom at all times. The flatties lie in the sand looking up so a fly right on the bottom at all times will only be seen if it happens to pass right on the nose of a fish. If you're fishing in very shallow water, that might mean using a floating line or perhaps switching to a lighter weighted or even unweighted fly (like a bendback instead of a clouser). For most situations though, you've got the perfect set up for flatties. Colours are personal choice but I usually fish bright flies (chartreuse or pink) in discoloured water and natural colours (tan or white) when it's clear. Size wise just go with flies that are the same sort of size that you might use for soft plastics... usually around a #1 to 2/0 clouser will do. For retrieves just think about how bait moves... short, jerky retrieves to immitate prawns or small bait fish is a good start. Again... try to imitate what you'd do if you were using plastics. Hit the edges of weed beds, drop offs, sandy pockets among the weed... and you'll get flatties. When you're starting out it can be good to go to locations that hold good concentrations of fish... Patonga creek, Iron Cove, Hen & Chicken bay... any of the known Flatty hot spots are worth a go. This will give you a better chance of connecting and starting to work out a pattern Cheers, Slinky

Well done, Skip. May there be many, many more. Cheers, Slinky

G'day Benny, Get yourself a set of digital calipers. I got a set from an auto shop for about $20. I use them all the time to measure bearings and drag washers... then you can order whatever bearings you need, whenever you need them. Cheers, Slinky

I'd go for either the Sol or the Soron STX. I upgraded the drags on my own Sols (2000s) and as said before, it turns an already great reel into a beast. The Sorons come with a better drag as standard. The 2 reels feel quite different in the hand... The Sol feels more 'buttery smooth' but a little less solid (Sorons are quite heavy). IMHO the engineering in the Soron is more robust and tough but the Sol is more 'high-tech' and sophisticated. Its even reflected in how they look... the Soron looks like a 4WD, the Sol like a Japanese sports car. I have a personal preference for the former (that's probably because I service a lot of reels so I prefer reels that are less 'high-strung') but both are brilliant reels. I recently sold my Sols but own 5 Soron STXs (one of each size in the range)... but it's only on personal preference. Pick them both up and buy the one that feels nicer to you and that you like the look of more (they both have quite a distinctive look) Cheers, Slinky

Nice to see you back, Roberta. At least with the fishing bug, you can keep it fed even when not fishing... that's the real reason to buy tackle. Looking forward to reading some of your posts full of fish soon. Cheers, Slinky

G'day Basscatcher. I personally think that ceramic hybrid bearings are wasted in spin reels. While they are also more resistant to corrosion, the real advantage of ceramics that I prefer, is their ability to reduce spool inertia and increase casting distance in baitcasters. The bearings in a spin reel have no influence on casting distance. Ceramic hybrid bearings are also by nature a little more noisy than stainless bearings... you certainly hear it when casting a baitcaster. Given their extra cost, I'd not worry about putting them in a spin reel... particularly for fresh water. Stick with good quality stainless bearings. Cheers, Tony

Yet another great couple of fish. Personally, I'm glad you've left the area... now, maybe the rest of us might be able to get a fish How's that work coming on distilling your pheromones into a fishing scent. D-Factor!! Nice work, Slinky

Nice work, Mick. Shame about the cod but they're a couple of great fish in the pics. Cheers, Slinky

Definitely worth looking for a second hand rod. In the last month I've managed to pick up a Sage RPLX 10wt for $150 and a Sage Z-Axis 9wt for $350. The bargains are out there. Cheers, Slinky

What began as a simple reality fishing trip soon became the stuff of legend. A legend now spoken of in central-western NSW as... THE BALLAD OF DANNY COD 3 men (Jewhunter the Elder, Slinky Malinky the Rounder and Outdoor Dan the Not So Old and Not So Round) drove to where the rivers flow West. A wide land... a harsh land... a land where the nearest Macca’s is hours away and toilet paper is worth its weight in gold... a land home to the Mighty Goodoo. Transported by 4WD on rough bush tracks to the banks of a river on private property, the 3 were deposited at an equally rough bush hut and told to survive as a tribe for 3 days. JH as tribe elder made a plan. In addition to survival basics (fishing rods, reels and about 2,340 spinnerbaits and surface lures) each tribe member would be allowed a single personal item. JH chose to take his “Shirt of Endless Shame” with which to try dazzling or confusing his tribe mates. Unfortunately, the reaction to the “Look at Me, I’ve Been In The Bass Electric, Aren’t I a Legend Even Though I Look Like A Total Tonker” shirt was not the awe and respect he had hoped from the tribe. Slinky chose to take “The Fly Rod of Poncieness” which inspired similar disrespect. By choosing to attempt fly fishing in the company of heathens... the size, quality and very existence of Slinky’s man-bits were often called into question. But all were at least impressed with the giant hairy Cod Merkin fly. If you’ve never seen a Murray Cod with pubic hair, this is where it all went. Dan’s choice was so simple it really wasn’t a choice. Both for the sake of himself and his resident tapeworm ‘Tapey’, his personal item was 1kg of spicy meat twiggy sticks. Over the 3 days his choice would test both his intestinal fortitude and the durability of the tribe hut’s septic system... and because twiggy sticks have a half-life of nearly 100 years,the region around the hut may now be uninhabitable for decades. Friday Afternoon - first team challenge. Cracks in the tribe began to appear immediately. While JH and Slinky began unpacking the transport vehicle, Dan disappeared “to have a look at the river”. His tribe-mates weren’t concerned. They knew Dan (like Slinky) was a Cod Virgin and because of the ENORMOUS challenge of catching the elusive wild Murray Cod, he was unlikely to be able to steal any kind of early march on the others. Dan’s cod virginity lasted exactly one cast. The rest of the tribe was toiling to pack potentially life-saving fluids (necessarily stored in individual blue cans) into the tribal esky. Dan meanwhile was squealing like a girl as his spinnerbait was inhaled by a couple of kilograms of suicidal Murray Cod of within a stone’s-throw of camp. Such was the rejoicing of the tribe that many sacred words were yelled at Dan (words which because of tribal tradition and Australian Obscenity Law, cannot ever be written down) Friday afternoon - first immunity challenge With the survival stores packed away, the 3 tribe members boarded transport for the immunity challenge. Whoever could catch the most Murray Cod in the late session would be immune from washing up. Slinky became a Cod Man after around half a dozen casts. A strong performance that would be repeated 6 times through the session (including once on a surface lure). Ensuring immunity from everything except the acid caress of the prolific stinging nettles and the even more acid comments from JH (who could only manage 3 fish). Dan meanwhile had decided to breach tribe protocol and disappear from sight into Brown Snake infested jungle, where the slightest misstep could result in a tumble down jagged granite boulders into cod infested water. Unfortunately for him the particular bit of water he found wasn’t quite as infested with Cod as Slinky’s bit. It is just possible that Slinky’s success was due to his use of Secret Stealth Boot technology. Doubtless the quieter approach of socks on rocks was less threatening to the resident green fish. JH had a chance to hone his survival tracking skills by following a trail of sole and liner fragments from pool to pool. After returning to the tribal camp in darkness, the ritual first meal of twiggy sticks and blue can fluids was supplemented by spicy sausages and onions cooked up by JH. That night, the tribal area resounded to the haunting calls of a flock of Crested Bum Buglers. It was decided that the immunity challenge had no clear winner so the washing up was left (ultimately for the entire weekend). Slinky maintained that the other tribe members were just sore losers. Saturday Needless to say, with the coming of daylight on Saturday the air was thick with more than just anticipation. Rods were rigged, spinnerbaits were tuned, Slinky set up his ponce rod and insect repellant was applied by all. The next location to be investigated by the tribe required a long 4WD journey across the ridge lines, fields and valleys into an isolated stretch of river gorge. The Crested Bum Buglers had apparently nested in the car in the morning so it was windows down for the trip. They were far from the only wildlife on the journey too. The large property was almost overrun with groups of deer, mobs of Grey and Red Kangaroos... ... And goats. Lots and lots and lots of goats. You’ve never seen so many goats. An interesting fact about the property where we stayed is that if you lined up all of its goats nose to tail, there’d be a FREAKIN’ LONG LINE of stinky goats! Oh, and did I mention they were stupid? When the 4WD came roaring towards them they would stare stupidly at the tribe-mates; run around a bit in circles crashing into fences, bushes and each other like the Keystone Cops; race to a safe distance (usually between 2 - 3m from the track); stop; stare stupidly a bit more; then do some more running and crashing in circles with a few stupid bleats thrown in for good measure. One majestic Billy with a big set of horns was impressive though. He was standing majestically alone on a majestic ridge rather than running with a not-so-majestic mob... so when he majestically ran around in majestic circles he only ran into bushes and not other goats. Dumb goat! At this point, ‘Survivor’ got interesting. Secretly overnight, JH and Dan had formed an alliance. Their plan to get rid of Slinky for the morning was devastating in it’s subtlety. It began with constant suggestions of the danger of trying to fish in socks (the stealth boots having been retired, hurt). “You can’t walk around like that on rocks all day”, “don’t our feet hurt”, “there’s lots of snakes around” and “go and get some firggin’ boots” along with other comments were constant? Helpful comments were made about the closeness of the nearest town with a boot store “I reckon you could be there and back in only an hour”. Dan made certain to point out that he and JH would be fine to wait by the river. “You just honk the horn when you get back and we’ll come and meet you”. Foolishly, Slinky was duped by their combined sly cunning and drove across hill, dale, river crossing and road to town. Having found a boot store he promptly made the return journey (via McDonalds to have something marginally more nutritious for breakfast than twiggy sticks). The return journey was nearly 3 hours and Slinky’s joy at having new boots was quickly dampened on arrival back at the river. After honking the horn without response for several minutes, he set off to find the other tribe members. He found them and suddenly realised he’d been duped!
 In those 3 hours, JH and Dan had caught and released another 10 or so cod with several around 4kg and one up around 7-8 kg. This put Slinky at risk of being voted ‘most gullible’ at tribal council. At least there was some minor consolation in that JH had managed to turn his 6kg baitcast stick into a short-stroker (but even broken off at the 2nd runner, he still managed to catch a fish on it before Slinky got back). To try to make himself more valuable to the tribe and recover some lost ground, Slinky decided from that point to assign himself as the ‘human tackle-back’. Whenever a lure or spinnerbait got hung up in accessible water, a quick dip... a fast swim past the tiger-leeches... and the lure was saved. Now let me tell you about the beginnings of the Ballad Of Danny Cod. Of those 10 fish caught in that session, 8 were taken by Dan. Building on the ‘first cast loss of Cod virginity’ from the previous day. Dan was on-fire. He had tied to his line the mankiest, smallest, scruffiest spinnerbait imaginable with the hope that he’d lose it on a snag somewhere. Instead, everywhere it landed seemed to hold a cod with apparently poor eyesight and no discernment for quality tackle. After each fish, Dan would bend the wire back into shape, try to re-secure the stinger hook in the shredded soft plastic tail, test is to make sure it would swim slightly better than sideways, and get straight onto catching the next Cod with it. He possessed an almost mystical ability to cast far into the bush on the far side of the river, lassoo a tree, and with a little flick of the wrist, have the spinnerbait come free (and often fall with a plop onto the head of the nearest Cod). There is some evidence that Dan’s funky smell may have had something to do with the irresistability of his lures to Cod. When in sight of fishable water Dan also moves faster than the eye can see, so JH and Slinky could never catch up with him long enough to hog-tie him and rub their lures on him before fishing, to test the theory. Saturday Arvo After returning to the tribe area to refuel on twiggy sticks, the afternoon session was decided as a chance to explore a new stretch of river with bigger pools and dramatic, deep, sheer-sided gorges. I think the haunting calls of the now resident Bum Buglers are still echoing around in those granite canyons! We’re not sure what the area is called but ‘Canyon of Slow Burning, Itchy Death’ could well describe it. Rumor has it that these gorges will be nominated as a world heritage area as the best example of native stinging nettle forest still in existence. For once, JH managed to beat Dan to the first prime casting possie. Proving that age and cunning can still beat youth and fitness. First cast from a large flat rock and JH was continuing his morning’s work, landing a fit 3-4kg Green Fish. Cracks however were beginning to appear in the alliance. While JH struggled to photograph and release his fish, Dan almost trampled him in his rush to get at ‘the rock’. Ownership of ‘the rock’ became hotly disputed with Dan’s cry of “get of my $^&&* rock!” sparking a row that continued to simmer for the remainder of the tribe’s stay. Each new, good looking casting spot became somebody’s “*^* Rock”... failure to get off a ‘called’ rock, would result in a torrent of abuse. The practice began to get a little out of hand when Slinky had to cross the river by swimming with a badly injured arm (courtesy of a spill into the rocks). With his gear, fishing outfit and boots all rigged to his backpack and using an inflated wet-bag for buoyancy, the swim ended at a rock along the deep edge upon which Dan was standing. Apparently, rescuing a drowning Slinky contravenes rock etiquette so Dan left him clinging desperately to the edge while he cast to and caught a cod that Slinky’s swim had obviously berleyed up. But trying to drown Slinky wasn’t Dan’s only underhand tactic for the afternoon. While traveling down one side of the Gorge with JH (Slinky had wisely crossed to the other side), they came upon a sheer cliff. The cliff stood between the 2 tribe members and the next good pool. Now it’s possible that Dan’s motives were entirely innocent but what happened next could have reduced the tribe by 1 member permanently. With the agility of a mountain goat and his much younger legs, Dan managed to traverse the cliff face by moving from one precarious hand-hold and foot-hold to the next. “It’s easy!” he shouted to a dubious looking JH. The evil glint in Dan’s eyes showed he was well aware that JH’s legs were a good 30cm shorter than his own. He was visibly disappointed when JH actually made it across the cliff face (albeit with different coloured pants than when he started). In the lower deep pools though, the fishing continued to turn on, particularly for Dan. After peppering one particularly promising pool with over 40 casts between the 3 tribe members for no result, someone threw a switch and every cast for the next 10 minutes got hit. Dan landed a beautiful 7kg fish on his mankie spinnerbait. By the end of the session Dan had landed 16 fish for the day. There was just enough time to head to another spot with longer, slower pools for an evening surface session. A couple of fish were landed by the boys before both JH and Slinky decided that they were too old and hopeless to keep fishing in the dark. With typical determination though, Dan just kept casting. And boy, did it pay off. The first that JH and Slinky knew of the drama which unfolded was when Dan came crashing through the bush in the dark, hissing spitting and cursing like a rabid wombat. The language wasn’t just blue... it was full ultra-violet. Without lip-grips or help, Dan found himself connected to The Old Man of the River. After gently sipping a big Kingfisher lure from the surface, all hell broke loose as a monster felt the hooks. While it didn’t take long runs, all the big Cod’s massive weight went into bulldogging dives around rocks, branches and any other obstruction it could find. Everything held together and the Ballad of Danny Cod was made... at 109cm and an estimated 50lb, it dwarfed every other fish caught for the weekend. Not bad for a bloke who had only caught his first ever Murray Cod the day before! At tribal council that night, Dan was torn between elation at catching the monster and being let down by his tribe-mates who weren’t there when needed to take the great photos a fish like that deserved. A whole lot of twiggy sticks were needed to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. For Slinky and JH, beer was a better choice than twiggy sticks. Slinky got cooking duty (which pretty much consisted of reheating a cooked chicken). JH got moral support duty (which pretty much consisted of patting Dan on the back and thanking him for not killing him on the cliff so that he could bask in Dan’s reflected glory). The session next morning was quiet with some overnight rain slowing down the bite considerably. Dan and Slinky both picked up a couple of fish but once the sun got up a bit, the tribe retreated to the tribal area to eat the last of the twiggy sticks and get packing. The long drive back to Tweed Heads was pretty uneventful (if you don’t count the speeding ticket on the New England Highway). It’s tempting to say that Cod Fishing was the winner on the day but without doubt ‘Survivor - Cod Country’ is Dan. In 4 sessions, 2 Cod virgins and the tribal elder managed 40 fish. 21 of them were caught by Dan. Awesome! And still today, you can hear the echoes of the great cods splashing and the ghostly curses of Danny Cod, echoing in the valleys and gorges of New England. And ever more the Ballad Of Danny Cod will be told in hushed tones around fires and bars. 
THE BALLAD OF DANNY COD It was dark along the river The sun had sunk from view And the Bum Buglers had settled for the night All alone upon the bank Little Danny had a plan He was itching for a monster he could fight So he lifted up his rod And whispered a short prayer And threw his lure out into the gloom Where Old Man Cod was waiting Looking for a feed The lure splashed down in his living room Dan saw the sipping splash “another little flipping fish” Then all hell broke loose upon the nighted shore Up and down and round about, the mighty Goodoo lunged Dan wet his pants and danced and danced Until the fish was done Now, Danny has no mates of course So none were there to help Instead he had to improvise And land the Cod himself With fear and curses on his lips And mud upon his hands Dan wrestled with the monster Until it swam on land “Where’s my bloody camera” Whined Danny in a tizz As he photographed his bum While trying to shoot the fish Old Man Cod was grateful As Danny slid him back But Danny boy was ropeable “Where’s that friggen’ track?” Crashing through the bush The night was getting late And curses flowed like water As he fumed about his ‘mates’ “Where were you, you mongrels” and many words I can’t repeat “You could have bloody helped me” We just stood and shuffled our feet “All I wanted was a photo of me and my big Cod” Said Danny in a huff But at least he got one On the bank And that has to be good enough And to this day you’ll hear the sound Along the river bank Of Danny and the monster fish We can only dream that we might catch.

It was a great weekend and I'm only sorry it had to end so soon. I'll post a full report in a couple of days when I get back from interstate... watch this space. Cheers, Slinky

What are you fishing for and how and where are you fishing. Leader choice is more a factor of these things than the breaking strain of your main line. For different scenarios with 20lb braid I've regularly used everything from 10lb nylon to 80lb Fluorocarbon with a 58lb wire bite leader... and almost every possible combination in between Cheers, Slinky

Uni Knot. Simple and strong and ties in 50lb line fine. As line gets heavier I just reduce the number of turns... I usually use 5 turns in line up to about 20lb, 4 turns in line up to about 60lb and 3 turns in line up to 100lb (any heavier that that and the crimping tool comes out). Cheers, Slinky

Well done, Skip It might not be a monster but any Jewfish on lure is memorable (I still haven't managed to get one in the boat ) That's one for the memories. Cheers, Slinky

Good news, Matt. Replacing damaged or worn bearings is a great, quick and inexpensive way to greatly improve a favourite reel that isn't performing like it should. Cheers, Slinky

Happy Birthday Raiders Go and see if you can chase up another Jewie for your big day, Dan. Cheers, Slinky

I've been refused entry through security screening at Sydney domestic airport with a travel rod and made to check it in as baggage. It might depend on who's manning the screening point at the time I guess. Cheers, Slinky

G'day Dan. Congrats on a top fish after from what I heard was a whole lot of dedicated hard work. Great reward for a top effort :thumbup: Don't forget to give the reel some TLC so that the salt water doesn't knock it around for the next time you want to get out there. Awesome fish Tony

Yes, Geoff. At the lever arm. I didn't even think about getting SS cable... just went on auto-pilot and got a replacement from the local boat shop. I'll use the lanolin now but based on what's been said in the replies, I'll switch next time. Cheers, Slinky

Hi all, I'm after some advice. I just replaced the brake cable on my trailer (for a 480 Quintrex). It's something that needs doing regularly unfortunately. Is there any way of slowing down the corrosion of the cable? Would it be ok to give it a coat of lanolin grease maybe? I know not to use grease on roller spindles as it traps salt and crud inside the rollers but with the cable being exposed does the same thing hold true? Any thoughts? Cheers, Slinky

Another awesome trip Stewie. Great pic, great video and great smiles. Beeeeewwwwdy Cheers, Slinky

Here's link to the schematics on-line... download them and you'll be able to zoom right in on your computer. http://www.mikesreelrepair.com/schematics/displayimage.php?album=24&pos=154 The claw definitely looks like it's installed the wrong way around in your photo. In looking at the schematic, I'd say that the trigger may not actually attach to the claw... rather, when the reel is turned and the anti-reverse is engaged, it will rotate around and the hook should engage the upright part of the claw, pulling it in to engage with the rachet. Only a guess mind you. Get the on line schematics... zoom in close... swap the claw... and see how you go. Good Luck, Slinky

G'day screwdriver, I'm not sure which specific BG model you've got but I had a look at a couple of schematics. It's sort of hard to diagnose without being able to have a poke around with it but I think that maybe the anti-reverse claw immediately under the brass screw may need to rotate 180 dgrees (might be completely wrong though). With diagnosing any reel problem, the important thing is to try to understand how each part works or is meant to work, then you can usually figure out why it isnt. This often just takes some time fiddling with it all. The other thing I always recommend when stripping down a reel is to take photos at each stage, at least until you're completely familiar with that particular reel. Photos are much better than just relying on the schematics. Cheers, Slinky