Old tales of Hawkesbury Jew Fishermen

[intensehotdog]

I was chatting to my uncle today and he told me about a guy that use to fish the Hawkesbury River in a small tinny and a handline. He would fish at irregular times, and have fishing holes that he would never tell anyone. After reguarly catching 3 or more huge jewfish, he would take them to the Sydney Fishmarket and sell them for some beer money. Apparently hes moved up to the central coast now. I wont say what his name/nickname was, not PC these days lol.

Love hearing old-time stories of fishermen like this before social media, using old-school techniques. Would be funny if someone on this site also knew of this guy, he was quiet well-known during that time as a gun fisho apparently so wouldn't be suprised. Or just any other stories like this, love to hear them.

[mrsswordfisherman]

54 minutes ago, intensehotdog said:

I was chatting to my uncle today and he told me about a guy that use to fish the Hawkesbury River in a small tinny and a handline. He would fish at irregular times, and have fishing holes that he would never tell anyone. After reguarly catching 3 or more huge jewfish, he would take them to the Sydney Fishmarket and sell them for some beer money. Apparently hes moved up to the central coast now. I wont say what his name/nickname was, not PC these days lol.

Love hearing old-time stories of fishermen like this before social media, using old-school techniques. Would be funny if someone on this site also knew of this guy, he was quiet well-known during that time as a gun fisho apparently so wouldn't be suprised. Or just any other stories like this, love to hear them.

Plenty of stories in The Library ----- Waza's Yarns 

Jump in and have a read while you wait for some replies here  

https://community.deckee.com/forum/101-wazas-yarns/ 

[noelm]

When I was very young, my father had a launch in Shellharbour, we would walk from our place, well before daylight, along the beach, dad carrying the magneto, a “sugar bag” that contained his hand lines, a screw top bottle of spare fuel and some kind of stale bread to eat. At the harbour, he had a small rowboat (that lots of times we fished out of, often rowing around to Minamurra to fish) but, we would load all the gear, row out to the putt putt, jump in, and he would put the magneto on the front, check the fuel, turn on an old tap, jiggle some kind of lever, get the big flywheel moving with his foot, then away went the motor, shaking the whole boat with a kind of “chugga chug chug chugga” off with the front mooring line, shove the clutch (this death trap gizmo spinning uncovered on the floor) forward and away we would go, dad at the tiller, me curled up the front on the sugar bag. As we left the harbour, out went the cord lines with “spinners” before we went more than 5 minutes, a fresh Bonito for bait was secured (he had a bottle of salted bait under the front deck, in case the Bonito were scarce, don’t remember ever using it) 

Anyway, he would look around and say something like “North East today, we’ll head North” as we neared his “marks” something about a tree and someone’s house and a dip in the mountain……he would slow down, then out went the anchor (usually a sand bag or “kellick” as he called it) and he would fillet the Bonito on an old board, scrape the flesh off the back bone to release bit by bit as burley. Out would come the sugar bag, and the old square cork, full of green line, about a 5/0 hook and no sinker, or maybe a tiny bit of sheet lead. He would bait up, swing the thing around his head (while I kept my head down) then let it go, it would sail about 15 feet or so, and he would let out free line bit by bit. More often than not, the line would spring to life, and the old cork would be bouncing around on the floor, after a minute is so he would yell “get the gaff” which was a bit of broom handle with about a 10/0 hook lashed on, there gleaming in the early light would be a 10-15 pound Snapper. He would wet the sugar bag and put the Snapper in, then repeat the bait and cast out, until he hooked another fish! After that, he had to walk back home, carrying the gear and the fish, and now and then, me on his shoulders!
One very memorable experience that I can still see in my mind today…..we used the row boat, and fished for Jewfish near Minnamurra river entrance or “Rangoon” as dad called it. He had a big line out with a whole Yellowtail on it, it was late afternoon, just about dark, and he got a “run” after some cursing and carrying on, this monster Jew (that was so big, it scared the hell out of me) was on its side, near the boat, “we’ll have to swim him in” dad says, “you just sit in the middle and don’t move” he dragged it right along side, then dipped the side of the boat down and this sea monster just “washed in” I was crapping my pants, yet in awe and the same time. The damn thing came alive, and smashed the middle seat in the row boat, dad “donged” it a couple of times with the broom handle gaff, pulled up the kellick and stood up to row back to Shellharbour in the dark, around Bass Point, dad just kind of in a trance, gently pushing the oars (he called them paddles) as the boat just seemed to glide without effort on the dark water.

that doesn’t even go near fishing in the row boat from home, rowing out the lake, and coming back, surfing a wave in, either in the dark, or later in the morning if it was a morning trip.

Edited November 13, 2023 by noelm
Typo

[Blackfish]

That’s epic. Epic story, epic description and EPIC memories.

Thanks Noelm.

Edited November 13, 2023 by Blackfish

[noelm]

Just now, Blackfish said:

That’s epic. Epic story, epic description and EPIC memories.

Thanks

Not too sure about the description, putting words together isn’t my strong point, but I have been very lucky over the years to experience life boating and fishing from a very young age, and over that time (like others on here) dozens of “things” good and bad have happened. My father always used to say “give a man a boat and oars and he will catch fish, give him a motor and he will catch none” meaning it’s too easy to zip here and there without really trying a spot.

[noelm]

Another story I think I have posted before! But when I was about 7-8 I was old enough to go around the rocks at night with dad to “hold the bag” while he caught Red Crabs for bait. We had an old Carbide lamp, now, most would have no idea what Carbide is, but, it’s a rock like substance, and stinks, when water is dripped on it, Acetylene is produced, which of course burns very bright. The lamp consisted of a “jet” and container for the Carbide, and a water container with a drip tap to allow just the right amount of gas produced to burn bright. Now and then, I have no idea why (I was way too young) the lamp/water drip would malfunction, dad would start yelling obscenities that near burnt my ears, and he would toss the lamp as far away as he could, all I remember is the light spinning in the air and bursting into flames before hitting the rocks and going out. Dad would creep over in the dark, find the lamp, make sure it was out and head home, only to spend the next day fixing the dented lamp. Red Crabs were prolific at night and easy to catch, once again, the old “sugar bag” was used to hold the crabs, now and then he would find an Octopus and lure it out of its hole with his fingers (or a crab) then grab it and fling it up the rocks, I had to make sure I was out of the way, or a big Occy might hit me in the face, the legs were threaded right over the hook and up the line, then tied on with string and used to catch Kingfish, which back then had little value and were never eaten (except by us)

Edited November 13, 2023 by noelm

[noelm]

Just kind of adding something, anyone got any old terms for gear? My father always called oars “paddles”, the stern was the “tuck” you never rowed, you “pulled” an anchor (sand bag) was a “kellick” when using the motor, you were “steaming” any kind of kerosene light was a “Tilley” 

[Green Hornet]

My dad always called the anchor a kellick as well and the tilly lamp was the old primus light. He had his father’s (merchant navy) kerosene lamp that he called the hurricane lamp and an old, heavy wet weather coat he called a sou’ wester. Abalone have always known as mutton fish in our family.

 

[noelm]

Yep, very similar, we used to get “Mutton Fish” in the Rock pools, we didn’t eat them all that often, usually in some kind of stew/ casserole or as teenagers, cooked on the rocks after diving. I think dad called his rain hat a “Sou Wester” . The Tilley lamp was filled with Kerosene, pump up with a little gizmo on the side, then some little spring loaded things called “kidneys” were soaked in Metho, and clamped around the lamp just under the mantle, as it heated up, a little knob was turned to illuminate the mantle to a brilliant white light, and heaven help any kid who bumped the light and broke the mantle……they became very brittle once used, funny, I found some new ones not that long ago in an old box. Tilley lights were the choice of prawners way back in the old days, Lake Illawarra was a sea of lights during the summer months, as scoop netters caught their supply of prawns.

[noelm]

Haha, I just laughed out too loud and my wife wondered what was going on…..I just remembered when underwater lights started to be used for Prawning, my mate decided to make one. He got an old car headlight, glued it into some plumbers plastic pipe, and ran the wires to a car battery, it worked a treat. First time out, he took the battery out if his car, taped it to an old polystyrene boogey board and we walked out a bit, and he hooked up the light, all good…..he put it in the water, there was a blinding flash, then a sound like steak on a hot BBQ, then dark……in all the drama he somehow tipped the boogey board over and his car battery went swimming, so, here we were, all set to prawn, but, no light and no car battery either, it was a long silent walk home that night!

[Green Hornet]

Another funny story. When I lived at Hyams Beach my wife and I had just come back from a trip out on St Georges Basin with a feed of flathead, when the new neighbours, inner city types, from a couple of doors up dropped in to see how we went. While I was washing down the boat, my wife was filleting the catch just out of sight and when asked she yells out "we got a feed of fresh lizards for tea". The look on the visitors faces was priceless and the fact they already knew my wife is aboriginal made it even funnier.

[JustJames]

On 11/13/2023 at 11:02 AM, noelm said:

When I was very young...

Strong "Old Man and The Sea" vibes from this story!

 

M doesn't by any chance stand for M-ingway does it Noel?