Sixty Five

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.