Why the Blog......

9 years now into the blog, and lots and lots posts on the SWOFFING (Salt Water Fly FishING) in and around Darwin - maps, flies, outings and musings

Hope your enjoying it!

Thursday, October 1, 2015

From the Canadian Deckie....

From the front Deck (for a change of author)......

As some of you may have heard, or not, my 81 year old father, William travelled from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada through Manila to spend 3 weeks with us in Darwin.  We did our best to treat him like gold (my wife did a much better job at this than I did) and show him all things that is Darwin and the Top End. 

William grew up in war torn London in the 30’s & 40’s so the Bombing of Darwin was of great interest to him.  The East Point Military Museum and Winnellie Aviation museums were a highlight and he was very surprised to learn of the extent of the bombings and the sustained war effort in Northern Australia.
Being a Canadian fly fisherman he couldn’t wait to get ‘oot and aboot’ on the water and try his hand at hooking a few unknown troppo species. 

Given that I’m an emerging authority on the best time to fish Lee Point (thanks to The Stig); Dad and I made a beeline for the high and dropping tide on and near the reefs around Lee, which I think was on Monday, 24 Aug 2015. Moments after arriving, which was almost exactly at high-slack, the first hook up was a 75-90 cm Golden trevally, which after a strong initial run ended up within a ½ meter of the net, of course resulting in a freaked out trevally going down and away again.  After a total of about 20 minutes, the gold leviathan broke the leader and the deep, sagging feeling of loss quickly set in, mostly because I didn’t expect that we’d hook anything like that again while my Dad was here!!!  We’ll dub that moment as “the great disappointment” (TGD). 

After some searching we found the main reef on the sounder and hit the anchor button on the electric.  Dad spent some time figuring out his 300 grain sink-tip rhythm and after flailing around a bit and wondering where the fish were the Gar started to accumulate right behind the boat.  We took this to mean that the bait fish might soon be flushed through the area and we tied new Clousers on and let our leaders sink just a little more.  We soon started hooking grey mackerel at fairly regular intervals and the odd school of queenies would bust up within striking distance.  Dad was shocked at the toughness for the relative size of the fish compared to trout and North Pacific salmon.

We hung out on the reef throughout the tide and the first Can-Aussie fly fishing experiment was over for the day.  Next stop, the kitchen, to try some local caught fish in the fry-pan.  Dad prides himself in filleting, skinning and de-boning any species of fish so we had some flawless, crumbed white meat in the pan before we knew it.  Good on ya Dad!

Four similar Darwin Harbour/Lee point outings happened over the subsequent three weeks with similar fish searching/catching efforts.  All up, dad landed about 30 fish and 6-7 species in the salt water.  On the last day, he’d really tuned into finding fish by watching birds and sighting bait balls.  I think he’d soon start out-fishing me if he lived here, crafty ol’ fella!

On to Corroboree to test out the fresh. 3 ½ short years ago I was pronouncing Corroboree - 'Core-ahh-bore-eee'.  You shoulda seen the looks I got from locals when I dropped that one on them, like they’d just tasted something bitter. J How things change. 

We got off to a shaky start in the billabong with Dad being stranded in the boat 20 meters out from the launch without being able to start the motor and without having the opportunity earlier in the trip to put the electric down or control it with the remote, after shouting some possible fixes from the car park, a trusty local suggested I jump on his boat so I could attempt a rescue.  I didn’t get his name but he was a very thoughtful bloke to suggest such a practical response to the problem.  Unfortunately, when I attempted to board the Good Samaritan’s boat, which was still on the trailer, I slipped and my ribs dropped onto the top of his winch. Whooph, all the wind knocked outta me!  I kept a very fake ‘I’m ok’ look on my face and soon after boarded the boat with my dad, thumbs up to Good Samaritan and all was almost back to normal.  Turns out the safety switch under the key hadn’t been pulled out enough by the clip/separator device.  I managed to catch my breath after the full contact with the winch post, we got geared-up and off we went to find Barra and Saratoga.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t scare up any fish until I got a 55 cm Saratoga at about 3pm on my trusty orange and black whatchamacallit fly.  It was tougher fishing than the Social Mob comp in May and Dad was starting to wonder if it was a fishless billabong. L

After a micro-SD card full of pictures and harassing what seemed like a multitude of crocs, two of which circled the boat while we ate lunch, we were done for the day.  Dad was super impressed with the billabong and was shocked overall with the wetlands and fishing opportunities so close to home.  He was amazed by the crocs, birds and lily pads at Corroboree and the rest of the wildlife observed at the Humpty Doo Hotel.  Dad’s an adventurous guy but he couldn’t stomach the idea of a kangaroo or croc burger, buffalo it was!   

Dad admitted that he didn’t think he’d be very impressed with Darwin but around every corner there were good restaurants, excellent museums, beautiful sunsets, the Territory Wildlife Park, Crocasaurus Cove and accommodation that included a deck overlooking the Beagle Gulf.  Despite being from arguably the most beautiful scenic region in the world, he admitted, “I could live here”.  That moment was a source of pride that he’d approved of me living in this foreign land that we call the Top End.  I’ve invited him to join us in May at the Core-Ahh-Bore-eee Social Mob Challenge.  He says he’s really gonna try to make it.



After an epic journey back to Canada, within days of being back home - Dad was out on the local river hooking Pink Salmon on pink Clousers.  Crazy, eh?

1 comment:

  1. Great story Pete, your Dad looks great for 81, will have to look at some date for the Core-Ahh-Bore-eee get together next year.

    ReplyDelete

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