Bynoe harbour Trip Report 20140713

Arrived Saturday afternoon at the Sand Palms pub which is about 3-4km from Milne inlet boat ramp. I set up the swag out in the back paddock amongst 10 or so other tents and campers. The 25 or so members of the NT Social Fly Fisher Mob were just starting a cook up. Three woks on gas burners, finger sized cuts of fish fillets from the few fish caught that day covered in various batters and coatings to fry them up with. Add a couple of big boxes of hot potato chips - and as a big full moon rose from the eastern horizon we had the makings of a great evening sitting around in circle drinking, eating and chatting about the fly fishing of what, where, with what and why no one was catching any.

The conversations mostly involved why the sighted fish that day were not enthusiastic enough to suck down the fly presented to it. Other discussions also solved all the world's problems and even identified why the kids of today just don't get it. As you usually do when sitting in a circle and most involve continue drinking alcohol as the night wears on. While the alcohol is not my thing, it was interesting to listen and participate in the discussion's journey even though it degraded as the evening progressed.

I was in bed early at 9:30pm, however I think the talking went on a lot longer. I slept under the stars with just a mosquito net above me. It was a cold night for Darwin standards with 19 degrees Celsius, so I was happy to have a sleeping bag - normally you don't need anything as a covering during the night during dry season.  The night time stars were awesome in their display away from the glow of city lights, as too the full moon so bright that no light was needed to see what was around you.

Jim and I were up at 5am to beat the high tide of 7.4m at 6:30am filling the boat ramp's lower carpark (a trap for those not familiar with using this ramp). We motored along the rippled water under the moon light for 45minutes towards the front of Bynoe harbour to look for Pelagics at dawn. Out the front, the wind was up right from the start and the water very choppy, so spotting active Pelagics was difficult and they didn't seem to be hanging off the usually points and confluence of current places either.

We then popped into a protected corner on the front beach of Indian island to cast around some mangroves covered by the high tide. Threadfin salmon at times herd up baitfish in this back corner. But nothing was seen nor taking the blind cast flies. So we moved along casting, searching, casting, searching, changing spots. working our way back down the harbour. A difficult day loomed.

The water was different than normal, the wind frustrating, cold and warm spots in air and water - the fish almost non existent. We did see the occasional slashing fish or 'boofing' splash of bait being taking off the surface but there was no consistency. One splash here or there and then no more , maybe one to three splashes a hundred meters away but by the time you moved over there - no more activity.

Due to soft mud and the ever present crocodiles up to 4.5m that inhabit the area, we fished from the boat as opposed to wading. As the tide started to drop we started searching the flats and 'snake' drains that squiggle across the flats from drainage areas at the edge of the mangroves. We spotted one small barramundi, its tail bright as the fish moved along the edge of mangroves but a cast 6 metres in front of it spooked it, all fish seen in morning were were highly skittish.

Bucktail Baitfish

Had one good presentation at a sighted 60+cm barramundi hanging at the  corner of a snake drain. The stripped bucktail baitfish fly induced the fish to follow! The fish even had a half hearted 'boof' at the fly but failed to hook up. It brought me to my knees in despair at the missed opportunity given the lack of cooperative fish we had been finding. I felt the take, a slight tightening of the line then nothing, bugger!

This continued for most of the day. Sighted fish, stealthfully approached, carefully cast to, only to achieve refusals or half takes, missed hookups or scared off.

One interesting incident occurred that I would like to share (see video). As were cruised under the electric motor along edges, a small barra about 20cm long was chased out of the water and landed high up on the mud bank . It flipped itself several times up to 50cm into the air trying to get back into the water. By the time we arrived it was exhausted covered in mud and deathly still in the thick mud. We positioned the boat nose into the bank and used the landing net to reach out to retrieve it and revive it before releasing back into the water.

Around 2pm at bottom of tide, due to wind direction we ventured to a leeward flat on the side on Crab Claw peninsula, one I had driven past every other time fishing Bynoe on way to boat ramp. The flat was starting to be inundated with the rising tide. Baitfish could be see moving around but no predatory activity seen. There were a few gravel and rocky areas we thought we might pick up a golden snapper or mangrove jack from.

Mangrove jack from previous trip to Bynoe

Jim did hook up a mating pair of crabs that amuse us greatly but as we got close to gravel patches a large 70+cm barramundi could be seen sitting above the gravel in clearish water only just covering their back.

We surmised that the fish were warming themselves above the gravel beds that had absorbed the sun's heat during the morning. I know several other similar locations within Darwin and Bynoe harbours that I will have to visit to verify the theory before the water starts warming up in a month or so.

Prior to approaching the gravel patch, I had changed from a baitfish type fly I had been using on the snake drains to a scampi/squimp combination fly to more suit the bait found on the gravel beds - shrimp and crabs.  As I cast the flats crustacean fly to these fish, they were interested immediately - whether due to my fly or being warmed up from the solar heat in the gravel and rocks - I choose my fly tying skills - ha ha !-).


This first fish cast to could be seen reacting to the fly and chasing the fly across the bottom of the gravel patch as I skipped and paused the fly. The fish tipped head down and inhaled the fly off the bottom substrate and spat it out before I could even react. The hook point almost got purchase in the lips I could feel the contact through the flyline but the fish flicked around after picking it up and dislodged to fly. Amazingly it went straight back to its lie above the rocks (again confirming our solar heating theory?). I cast to the fish again and it followed the fly like last time. This time as it tipped and ate the fly, I strip struck the flyline and hooked up firmly, line taught, weight on with the fish boofing or inhaling the fly right into its gill rakes and it sliced the leader material as it it was cotton thread. After  a short of second, all went slack.

Man! that was fun to watch all that and understand what it was doing and why, having it take my fly chosen for the purpose.

I just love this scenario and this type of sighted flats fishing!

Jim using a baitfish profile fly, (yellow head with white feathered tail with a touch of blue flash) had two fish follow his fast staccato strip. These two fish were much bigger than others we had seen on this gravel patch and similarly to previous fish seemed to be sitting along the gravel bar for warmth. Thinking on it, this solar heat transfer theory is similar to the barramundi in dams and large impoundments that gather in the shallow bays for the warmer water in colder weather.

Now, given two fish were following the Jim's fly, competitiveness took over and the larger fish rushed ahead of its partner and engulfed the fly aggressively. Now normally once hooked barra will jump and flex immediately on being hooked, they repeatedly flare their mouth and gills to dislodge the fly before the fight really begins.

However, this large 80+cm fish took off with amazing speed, almost instant acceleration, making a arrow straight bee line for the deeper water. It was a great visually - the follow, the take (the boof), the hookup all within 10 feet of the boat in clear water, then the 180 degree turn and sprint. All to be seen in the metre deep clear water - exactly what flats fishing is all about.

As I was laughing exuberantly and expressing my wonderment at what I had seen, Jim was saying more than just a few choice words at the back of the boat! We both don't mind missing fish, but there is always that momentary disappointment at a lost fish for the SWOFFER (and laughter for his fishing partner at the time).

For the next hour or so we very slowly moved along the flat as the water rose, casting to sighted fish after sighted fish but they were not the most enthusiastic to take the fly as the first few fish were. The water also got murkier as the tide rose making spotting the fish before they spotted us difficult. A few big queenfish were sporadically harassing the baitfish at the mangrove edges but we couldn't interest them in our flies either.

We had been focused on flats barra for the day, but after a day of no scales in the boat we wanted to catch something, so we went to a known trevally and queenfish location. This spot had saved many a hard day of fishing it but it  too was barren of fish, wind swept and large waves. So back to the ramp we went at around 4:30pm. I was packed up and home by 6pm back in Darwin in time for dinner with my family.

Lord Jim

Thanks Jim for a good day.
Even though not a scale in the boat that we had caught on a fly (i.e. the jumping mud barra).
It was a hard day on the water, not just for us but all the SWOFFERs there for the weekend. Even the commercial fishing guides we meet in the pub bar later expressed the lack of participating fish.

Still that one stretch of flats about 500m long and its undulating gravel bars was a fantastic, time stopping totally absorbing SWOFFING.
It made the trip for me.