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Big Bugs

January 18, 2018Crayfish, Diving haydnt 2 Comments

January 18th 2018

It’s hard to believe the East and West coasts of New Zealand are so close, for they are wildly different environments. I’ve just returned from a week on Northland’s East coast. Its golden sand beaches, crystal clear seas and myriad of tropical coloured fish are a world away from the West Coast I usually explore. It’s impossible to say that one is better than the other, for they are too different to compare. After a week of fishing and diving from our Tutukaka base, we learned that the seas are rich with life, but not all of them are species we’d readily recognise. Take for instance the glorious pigfish above ( or ‘pug fush’ if you are a talking to a true kiwi). Sure we get the odd one in the Manukau, but they were everywhere up North. Whether we were dangling a line, or snooping through the kelp, there was always a crimson red pigfish on the scene.

Different species and different environments, means utilising different techniques to catch the fish that inhabit them . . . and figuring out quite how to do that is often the biggest hurdle. While we enjoyed some fantastic days out on the water, our catches were never spectacular . . . except that is for the hefty packhorse cray I wrestled from his hole. It had been one of those trips when everything seemed to go wrong; lost kingfish, broken rods and malfunctioning dive computers. But it took a sudden turn for the better when I spied a long pair of antennae poking out from the rocks. Closer inspection revealed a nest of pack-horse crays. One big buck guarding his harem of ladies. After a quick scout to assess the best method of attack, I reasoned the trusty snatch and grab technique would seal the deal. Mr Packhorse had his own plan – and this involved a vice like brace against the walls of his cave. After a prolonged tussle of gloves against thorns, I victoriously hauled the flapping critter from his sanctuary. . . . . But my celebrations were far too premature: a knock to my mask meant an instant flood and the sudden realisation I was in something of a pickle. Holding on to the cray was a two handed task made even harder when I couldn’t see a thing. Taking time to slow down and assess my predicament I maneuvered him into a one armed bear hug, re-aligned my mask and gained a little more clarity once the world came back into focus. From there it was a quick shove into the catch-bag before pausing to catch my breath and savor the moment. Another dip into the burrow to retrieve one of the females and I decided it was time to head for home and tell the family they’d be eating like kings that night!

Our oceans and islands are a treasure trove of wildlife, but most spectacular of all, are the Poor Knights islands. Snorkeling here was like stepping back in time. Dipping a toe into seas that hummed with life and energy. In some ways astounding, in other ways a sobering realisation that much of our seashore has become a sparsely inhabited world that has been over exploited and over-fished. What the Poor Knights marine reserve proves is that where fishing is banned, then life can still thrive. Why there aren’t many more such reserves, I just cannot fathom.

www.recurve.co.nz — Spectacular Poor Knights

The Knowledge.

December 28, 2017Gurnard, Kahawai, Kingfish, Shark, Snapper haydnt Leave a Comment

December 28th 2017.

Every trip out on the water is an education. Sometimes you learn a little, sometimes you learn a lot. Fishing is a process of trial and error. Often you figure out little snippets of knowledge and these are tiny little pieces of the puzzle that all combine to make you a better fisherman and maybe, . . . eventually, . . . an expert. There’s a heap of advice online and in magazines, but you can’t beat time spent out there on the water. However, learning where the fish will be, when they will be there and how to catch them, is a long journey. It’s therefore a revelation when someone reveals a short cut. One that arrives outa the blue and takes you from zero to hero in a matter of minutes! This is exactly what happened to me recently. I learnt more from one short conversation, than from 5 years on the rod – and it was with an almost guilty sense of excitement, that I put the knowledge into practice on our last trip. Let me explain . . . .

A couple of weeks ago, after another fruitless hunt for the elusive Manukau kingfish, I stopped to chat with another fisherman and lamented upon my poor luck and lowly catch-rate. Whether it was pity – or just good ol’ kiwi camaraderie – this guy turned out to be The Expert on catching kingfish and delivered the 10 commandments of West coast king fishing. Something of a religious experience let me tell you! He told me exactly what bait to use, where to catch it, where to find the kings and what tide to fish. Some of it I already new, some of it I thought I knew, but there were a couple of nuggets of wisdom that were ’trade secrets’ and quite why he divulged them to me . . . I really don’t know. Either way it helped me pull all the pieces of the puzzle together and on the very next trip, we executed a perfect plan of attack, which went something like this:

1. Launch boat.

2. Travel to point A.

3. Catch live bait.

4. Travel to point B.

5. Catch kingfish.

Easy as! The bones of it were simple but the time money and effort spent getting there are almost impossible to calculate. A combination of my many hours spent trying and his many years of experience, distilled into a few gems of enlightenment. We returned that day with a smorgasbord of seafood crowned by a kingfish. It could have all have been a fluke. It could quite easily turn to custard on our next expedition and we return empty handed, but I’m kinda thinking we may just have made a breakthrough. Hopefully we’ve turned a corner and can finally enjoy the thrills and spills of arm straining, line stripping, rod wrenching West coast kingfish on a regular basis. . . . . Hopefully.

Okuma Matata

December 24, 2017Gurnard, Snapper, Uncategorized haydnt

November 24th 2017

Do you remember our last East coast foray? – you don’t? Well, I’m not surprised. It was a completely forgettable trip. The only thing I had learned from that particular day, is that local knowledge is the key to success . . . and we had none. So when I was asked to accompany the boys from CD Rods out East on their awesome new boat Okuma Matata, I had high hopes that with a little local expertise, we might achieve greater things this time around.

My own boat was out of commission due to engine problems and there is surely no worse time of year to experience those. I called around numerous yards til I found anyone who could squeeze a job in before Christmas – and by that stage the thought of spending my whole holiday season without my trusty Sea Nymph was giving me serious concerns. The engine is currently in pieces at Bensemann Marine and I’m waiting with baited breath for the news that she’s to collect.

It was very fortunate therefor that I had the call from the Composite Developments team inviting me to join them for the day. Their impressive vessel is a 7.5 metre Surtees that purrs along thanks to the silky, smooth twin Honda 150s bolted astern. She’s looked to be the ultimate fishing machine and after a day spent aboard I’m not ashamed to admit I have a serious case of boat envy.

After a 4am wake-up and bleary eyed drive North to Gulf Harbour, we were out on the water before 6am and wetted the first lures on sunrise. We tried a few spots in vicinity of Kawau and fished a mix of lures and baits to figure what was going to work on the day. When you are fishing with a tackle wholesaler, there’s no shortage of lures to choose from. Their communal bag was more treasure chest than tackle box, stuffed to the brim with jigs, softbaits, stickbaits, and poppers. We drifted various spots over the morning and landed a mix of snapper, kahawai, and gurnard. With a pristine day of clear skies and gentle breezes, on a shiny new Surtees, amongst the stunning scenery of the Northern Hauraki gulf, I have to thank my lucky stars I’m fortunate enough to live and work where I do.

Big Red.

December 8, 2017Snapper haydnt

December 8th 2017

How lucky are we with this phenomenal run of perfect weather? But, you gotta say it was well earned after one of the wettest years on record. Mother nature has been hurling the curves balls around this year; Soaking wet, then baking hot and now a Tasman Sea that is up to 6c warmer than it should be! Quite bizarre.

The fishing has been consistently good out West after a slow winter lull. I took the kids out last trip and we weren’t the only ones making the most of the perfect conditions. Little Huia was a hub of activity as a procession of boats launched then funneled West through the Manukau Heads. But it’s a wide open ocean out there and pretty soon all we could see were a few trailing wakes heading to the horizon. I’ve never seen the Tasman so docile. The water was stilled to an oily calm and when we cut back over the bar at high water, not a single wave crest was breaking across it. Anywhere!

The fishing ran as hot as the weather and within minutes of setting anchor we were catching. Most a good size and many still plump with roe. I do wonder whether the catch limit should be adjusted for the spawning season. It’s sure to open up a can of worms – even the suggestion of it – but if ever there was a time to limit your catches and give the snapper stocks a chance to recover, then it would be now.

Scott was the hero of this day when he struggled with a beast of the deep in a tit-for-tat enounter. The fish made every effort to evade the boat and with Scotts light tackle set-up, it was a fair fight between the two. Such was the nature of the fight – long runs and and deep lunges, I’d called it for a sizeable shark, but the man on the end of the rod was insistent that he’d hooked up to a snapper . . . and he was right. Spiralling up through the deep blue we first caught glimpse of a stout round body, which then coloured up into a rich red flank. Easily the biggest we’ve seen this year it was a tight squeeze into the landing net. When the old girl loaded the scales to a whopping 18lb, I was almost as happy as Scott himself. Almost.

After a couple of quick photos we tried to revive her and send her back down below, but the deep water and valiant fight had taken its toll. While it’s a shame to kill a fish that may be 30 years old, she’d spent many years feeding, spawning and maintaining the life-cycle. Needless to say nothing was wasted and she came back home along with the rest of the catch, to be filleted down and enjoyed by many.

Back in the Saddle

December 4, 2017Snapper haydnt

December 4th 2017

After our previous trip to ‘the dark-side’, it felt good to be back on the home patch. It was only 8:30am, we had the whole West Coast to ourselves and the bin was stuffed with a dozen prime snapper. We were back in the game – and smashing it!

An early start saw us launching from Little Huia and crossing the bar while the sun was still glowing warm over the Manukau Heads. As has been common of late, we had an Easterly breeze on our stern and the ride out to the 50metre mark was smooth as silk. The ocean was a barren expanse until we neared our chosen depth and there we found a myriad of birds zigzagging to and fro in search of an early breakfast. When there’s birds above, there’s often fish below so we took it as a sign we were in the right spot.

Sure enough, first drop and it was all on. The fish were hungry for a feed and we were hungry for a fish. Interspersed with the reds we saw the odd barracouta, a chunky gurnard and a few small kahawai. Luckily there were very few sharks in the mix so tackle losses were low. We even had a fleeting flypast from a dolphin and her calf to brighten the day further. Some days West really is the best.

When the bite runs this hot and the snapper are surfacing 2 at a time, it doesn’t take long to fill the bin. It wasn’t even 10am when we hauled anchor and headed for home. Whilst crossing back through the harbour entrance a boil of water on the surface looked a heck of a lot like a pack of kings busting up some baitfish. We motored over to take a look but the crime scene was empty save a few ripples. But it was hard to leave without at least lowering a bait . . and with a live kahawai in the tank we had the perfect cheese for the trap. We set up shop for another hour, but alas, the Manukau kings proved as elusive as ever. My plan this season is to dedicate some effort on every trip to chasing the kingies. Sooner . . . or later . . . I’ll get those fellas figured out. It’s just a matter of time on the water and dedication to the chase. Watch this space folks . . . .

Bad Day/Good Day?

November 29, 2017Trevally haydnt

November 25th 2017

Getting up at 4:30am and driving 80km to Sandspit seemed like a good idea. Storing the live bait in a floating bait cage also seemed like a good idea. Motoring out to Flat Rock to fish for a kingy . . . . yeah, you guessed it . . . .it seemed like a good idea.

Unfortunately, none of the above were good ideas. They were all bad ideas. It proved to be one of those days when (almost) everything went wrong;

Lusting for a change of scenery and a change of species, a trip to Kawau made for an attractive prospect in the minds eye. With kingfish the target species some frisky live-baits were an essential element to the success of the mission. And things were going swimmingly until every last livey escaped through a hole in the cage mesh. 2 hours work undone in an instant! . . . and it spiralled further downhill from there.

I’ve seen more space at Westhaven Marina than we found at Flat Rock. It was more boat park, than fishing mark. We didn’t have the bait and we couldn’t find the room so we made a hasty decision to try elsewhere. North Kawau seemed a fair bet, so picked our way through the flotilla and sought sanctuary a few K’s up-coast. But it was all guesswork and when you don’t know the marks, what tide to fish them and which techniques to use . . . then the odds are really stacked against you. We spent a few hours dropping berley, baits and lures but the results of our efforts were a few tiny snapper and a solitary Trevally. Slim pickings for a 12 hour day.

The one good idea came courtesy of my wife, who cooked up a veritable feast of delicacies. Pulled pork buns, Frittata and blueberry muffins kept our spirits high while the fishing ebbed low. All things considered, a day on the water eating like a lord and having a chin-wag with your mates is pretty bloody awesome. I’m starting too see the attraction of buying a sailboat. Those yachties have really got it sorted; Savour the journey and don’t waste time on the fishing.

Fish School

November 11, 2017November 11, 2017Shark, Snapper haydnt

November 11th 2017

I was probably 8 years old when I first discovered fishing. Why on earth I waited that long, I’ll never know. There were 8 good years wasted there. Thus I’ve always been conscious I should start my kids fishing young – real young. They are now at the ripe old ages of 5 and 7 and already have a couple of years experience under their belts. Both are quite the dab hands at dropping a line and catching a feed. The girls love a day out in the boat with their old dad and our last aquatic adventure was a grand success. Chris and his son Jack came along to complete the crew. We loaded the boat with bait and snacks – plenty of snacks – and beat a path West at a rate of knots.

While fishing was our ultimate goal, the pod of dolphins who arrived to play in our wake proved an easy distraction from the game plan. It was a first for the kids who were ecstatic at their frolicking rolls and boat-side surfing. 15 minutes passed before the dolphins tired of our presence and carried on their course. It turned out to be the second most talked about part of the day – and we hadn’t even dropped a line yet!

Bouncing lures off the seabed along a slow drift had found us some heavyweight snapper on the previous trip, so I reasoned that a good method to start off. But in typical inconsistent fashion, the same tactic was not gonna work this day. We jigged and jagged and pitched and pulled a succession of lures through some real fishy territory, but not a single bite was had. So it was over to the tried and trusted technique of – “drop the anchor and dangle a bait’. There is a good reason most folk out West fish this way – it really works. Soon enough the fish found our squid baits and the children began reaping the rewards. The fish coming aboard were plump, firm and beautifully conditioned. While I was more than happy with the reds, the undoubted highlight of the day was Jacks sharky capture: a 2ft rig that writhed over the gunnels bristling with anger. The gasps of surprise and shrieks of excitement were quite different to the usual grumbles and grunts of dismay. Funny how we become conditioned to enjoy only the fish that are considered worthy. Wouldn’t it be better to enjoy everything that grabbed the bait and added interest to the day?

We headed for home with a happy crew, who finally fell into an exhausted silence while we bounced our way ashore, through an easterly chop. I recall similar days of fishing and adventure as a child back in the UK. In those times the seas were bountiful and most days we were rewarded with a fish or two for the table. Alas, that has all now changed due to massive over-fishing and corporate greed. What we never had was a recreational fishing body, like Legasea, fighting for the rights of anglers. Those guys are doing a great job in empowering the voice of the masses and hopefully stymieing the persistent ecological onslaught of the commercial fishing industry. While it’s almost too late to turn the tide of damage and disaster that has been wreaked upon European seas, my hope is that New Zealand’s waters are offered better protection. I don’t want my kids to witness any decline in the rich biodiversity we are still blessed to enjoy here. Lets hope they’re still out there enjoying it when they are as old and craggy as I am.

Real Fishy

October 23, 2017Uncategorized haydnt

October 22nd 2017

Tony had already travelled 19,000 km from the UK to get here, but it was the final 20km that were the hardest; An out-going tide, and a 15 knot South Westerly breeze meant it was an uncomfortable ride across the Manukau bar and out to the 60 metre mark. Steep troughs and sloppy waves forced a slow slog of stop-start progress. It was one of those trips where you hold on tight and suffer a pounding in the hope that the fishing will justify the effort it takes to get there. A keen boatie and fisho, Tony’s home patch is very different to NZ. Neither the environment or the species were familiar, but as a subscriber to the Recurve blog he was well aware of the exciting fishing we are privileged to experience. His hopes were high of enjoying his own small slice of the action.

So did it pay off? Did the West coast deliver the goods? . . . . I’ll let the photos answer that one. Though what they don’t reveal is quite how amazing the fishing was. The snapper were all fit, fat and frisky. Their average weight was 4kg with barely a pannie amongst them. My initial theory suggested the lures were helping us avoid the small stuff and weeding the bigger specimens from the schools. . . . . but just to prove me wrong, Andy tied on a flasher rig, dropped a fresh cut bait – and this was also hoovered up by another substantial red.

We filled the bin inside of 2hours and judging by the stream of boats who headed for home alongside us, we weren’t the only ones to enjoy an epic session. Talk back on the beach was of spectacular action and hefty hauls of plump spring snaps. Seems like the West coast is blowing hot right now. And when she’s hot, she’s scalding!

Getting Down to Business

October 17, 2017overseas haydnt

October 17th 2017

When you are sent to Samoa on business, you’d be a fool not to make the most of the opportunity and squeeze in a few hours on the water. . . . and I’d hate to be made a fool of. Despite a tight schedule with less than 48 hours on the tropical rock, I was fortunate to find room on a charter vessel for an early morning stint on the waves. They were quite some waves too: A churning, lumpy sea, roughed up by a steady Nor-Easter meant we were in for a hairy ride. Fortunately the journey times are short, for Samoa sits atop the edge of a precipitous sub-aquatic shelf and within a few kilometres of shore, you have 3000 metres of water under the hull!

While it was a quiet morning with just 2 mahi-mahi boated, these were exhilarating fish to catch. From the moment of hook-up they erupted in virulent explosions of colour and energy. A cartwheeling display of aerial acrobatics ensued until the fish were gaffed at the boat and hoisted aboard. The only thing more stunning than their iridescent coloration, was the speed at which it disappeared. Within 30 seconds of capture their golden green hues had all but vanished.

My only disappointment was the tackle we caught them on. The fish were totally outgunned by the giant Shimano trolling gear and I can only imagine how much more fun the encounter would have been, had a stick baiting rig been the weapon of choice. Nevertheless, it’s another species ticked off the checklist and I’m looking forward to targeting them again during their Southern migration to NZ, in the height of our summer.

Sixty Five

October 8, 2017Uncategorized haydnt

October 8th 2017

65 – It’s the magic number. For that’s where the action is out West at the moment . . . or at least it was a few days ago. It’s been such a fickle year it may all have changed by now, but one thing I can say with certainty – it was THE place to be last weekend.

Our trip started early. We hit the beach before sunrise and were crossing the bar whilst the clouds were still fringed pink with orange bellies. Our journey to the horizon was interrupted by a brace of dolphins who chased and spun through the wake. They were motoring at a fair clip toward a larger pod who’d pushed a school of bait to the surface. Whether it was inexperience, or lethargy it appeared these cetaceans were not the seasoned pro’s. They popped up here. They popped up there. The birds overhead chased around in random circles trying to predict where the action would next occur, but it was a poor effort on the dolphins part. We gave up and left them to it. Hopefully they’ll have refined their technique when our paths next cross. Keep practicing guys. Your cousins out East have got you whipped.

Once out deeper we fished a slow drift in a stilled breeze with barely a ripple on the ocean. The slow jigs were snagging the fish and within 10 minutes we had 4 fat snaps in the bin. and that’s when the rain started. A pummeling drench of biblical proportions . . . and pretty much par for the course in Auckland of late. So over went the anchor and the boat swung around to shelter us from the downpour. We carried on fishing a mixture of baits and lures and the fishing ramped up to CODE RED status. It didn’t really matter what bait you offered up – or indeed if you used any bait at all – we were chalking up the double hook-ups at every drop.

Whilst every snapper was a good eating size, none of the bigger fish, which were surely down there, could beat the feisty youngsters to the hooks. But right on cue who should come along, but Mr Couta. He was rapidly diced and sliced into 8 large slabs and those proved the difference between the big and the small. Whilst the little-uns could nibble the barracouta fillets, only the big guys could swallow them – the plan had worked a treat. We ended the day with 4 fish over 10lb and a for a short 3 hour session, that was pretty good going.