Owen
26-03-2006, 10:12 AM
Captains Log:
Stardate 25th March 2006
Moral on base is at flashpoint.
The winds continue to ruin any chance of getting outside. The crew try to act interested in household chores and renovation projects. All attempts to discover new horizontal polka steps fail due to lack of interest.
The first mate decides to vege out in front of the TV, so I reach for my new copy of Modern Fishing.
Moral plummets even further!
Another story of some blow-in from down south catching barra at Awoonga :'(
Everywhere I turn, people are catching pocket battleships from this impoundment, yet my sole fish remains a 56cm tiddler.
Am I (as I often suspect) completely inept, or is it that the Gods just hate me (entirely probable).
A raiding party is launched immediately.
End Log:
Launched about 3:30 with no intention of returning until well after dark.
Decided to head into previously unchartered waters well up the back of the dam to see what I could find and hopefully find some respite from the wind.
Fishing amongst the trees in my 4.55 quinnie is a bit of a pain on your own. Being forward steer and having a screen & canopy it tends to get picked up by the wind.
The next three hours I tossed lures at every likely looking stick, weed bed or just plain open water to no avail :(
A few promising swirls around the weed, but no hookups.
Darkness came and I decided to troll back towards the ramp to try a few tree lines closer in.
Just as I cleared the trees heading out of the bay I was in the rod bucked in my hand and line starting whizzing off.
Kill the motor, we're on!
Somethings not quite right with the way this thing is fighting. After the initial burst it goes dead weight. Then it turns straight for me (deeper water) forcing me to crank like made to keep the weight on.
Five metres from the boat it realises it's heading into danger and comes out fighting. It erupts out of the water and immediately dives for the bottom almost under the boat. The next 30 seconds consists of me dragging the fish back up and it trying to simultaneously get back to the bottom via a quick circle around the outboard leg.
Do they teach them that at fishy kindy?
Finally it comes to the side. Only trouble is it won't fit in the mesh net, so I get his head in and grab his tail.
Now it's on board, the panic sets in to get it unhooked, get a photo and get it back in the water.
I discover that it was foul hooked up the outside of the cheek. One hook buried to the hilt, possibly explaining why the fight didn't quite feel right. I extracted the hook from the fish (getting it out of the net was another story) and proceeded to completely forget how to work the auto-timer on the camera).
A few quick snaps and the fish is over the side for a quick revival. After two pushes back & forward he kicks off to the depths.
In the excitement I forgot to measure him or her. Best I can extrapolate from the photo vs the width of my hand is about 75cm. No monster by Awoonga standards, but PB for me.
I may be still inept, but the Gods don't hate me so much that they don't relent enough to keep me interested.
Darling...... - I need a new environet.. and a few more lures... and wouldn't an electric motor be cool???
Cheers
Owen
the fruits of my labour
Stardate 25th March 2006
Moral on base is at flashpoint.
The winds continue to ruin any chance of getting outside. The crew try to act interested in household chores and renovation projects. All attempts to discover new horizontal polka steps fail due to lack of interest.
The first mate decides to vege out in front of the TV, so I reach for my new copy of Modern Fishing.
Moral plummets even further!
Another story of some blow-in from down south catching barra at Awoonga :'(
Everywhere I turn, people are catching pocket battleships from this impoundment, yet my sole fish remains a 56cm tiddler.
Am I (as I often suspect) completely inept, or is it that the Gods just hate me (entirely probable).
A raiding party is launched immediately.
End Log:
Launched about 3:30 with no intention of returning until well after dark.
Decided to head into previously unchartered waters well up the back of the dam to see what I could find and hopefully find some respite from the wind.
Fishing amongst the trees in my 4.55 quinnie is a bit of a pain on your own. Being forward steer and having a screen & canopy it tends to get picked up by the wind.
The next three hours I tossed lures at every likely looking stick, weed bed or just plain open water to no avail :(
A few promising swirls around the weed, but no hookups.
Darkness came and I decided to troll back towards the ramp to try a few tree lines closer in.
Just as I cleared the trees heading out of the bay I was in the rod bucked in my hand and line starting whizzing off.
Kill the motor, we're on!
Somethings not quite right with the way this thing is fighting. After the initial burst it goes dead weight. Then it turns straight for me (deeper water) forcing me to crank like made to keep the weight on.
Five metres from the boat it realises it's heading into danger and comes out fighting. It erupts out of the water and immediately dives for the bottom almost under the boat. The next 30 seconds consists of me dragging the fish back up and it trying to simultaneously get back to the bottom via a quick circle around the outboard leg.
Do they teach them that at fishy kindy?
Finally it comes to the side. Only trouble is it won't fit in the mesh net, so I get his head in and grab his tail.
Now it's on board, the panic sets in to get it unhooked, get a photo and get it back in the water.
I discover that it was foul hooked up the outside of the cheek. One hook buried to the hilt, possibly explaining why the fight didn't quite feel right. I extracted the hook from the fish (getting it out of the net was another story) and proceeded to completely forget how to work the auto-timer on the camera).
A few quick snaps and the fish is over the side for a quick revival. After two pushes back & forward he kicks off to the depths.
In the excitement I forgot to measure him or her. Best I can extrapolate from the photo vs the width of my hand is about 75cm. No monster by Awoonga standards, but PB for me.
I may be still inept, but the Gods don't hate me so much that they don't relent enough to keep me interested.
Darling...... - I need a new environet.. and a few more lures... and wouldn't an electric motor be cool???
Cheers
Owen
the fruits of my labour