Island time

Island Time has a quaint homesy aura, and CXI runs on Island Time. For this, our third trip, we were greeted by Shimano at Cassidy International. Progress is being made and the tin roofed shed is being replaced by a modern looking terminal facility. I predict that the quaintness factor will go by the wayside faster than ever now. This was reflected by the attitude of some of the guides who, after a long season were frank in their admissions that Australasian anglers are given second rate treatment behind the higher tipping US based anglers. Shame that. By now they should realise that we work as hard or maybe harder for a buck, so they should either step up, or step aside in the case of some of the older guys leading the young fellas astray.

The frustrations of guides not showing up for work, or in our case on the final morning the boatman not arriving, topped off the the feedback above given were on the whole evened out by several experiences.

Lunch 

Day 4 and I was on the "Long Walk" with my guide "T". I had 1500mls of water on board and my lunch... T had nothing and refused water when offered. We'd been dropped off the boat and wouldn't see it again until late in the afternoon. The pancake coral amongst the back country lagoons is a very special environment and we'd done well on the bones and were hunting a GT. Several shots were taken but the fish were very cagey and turned away at the last second. Come lunchtime and T asked if I liked eating fish? Sure I do! We set off for a small island and once there I was tasked with collecting salt brush and grass for firewood and tinder respectively. T in the meantime had my fly line in hand and was jigging the fly over the rocky outcrop, soon throwing fish after fish over his shoulder. When he deemed that we had enough we set about starting the fire - my role was mainly to lie in front of the pile of grass and tinder to block the incessant wind. Once lit and embers formed, the fish (snapper) were raked into the coals and cooked whole. Once skinned and with the head removed (taking the guts with it) the flesh was sweet and juicy - amongst the very best fish meals I've ever eaten.

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The formidable drag

Post our GT trip earlier in the year where our gear was simply smashed, an excessive amount of research had gone into reels with responsive, powerful drags. Jase and I had both settled on Hardy Fortuna XDS 10000's - one drag knob turn and you've gone from zero to 32lb of fish breaking drag.

Until that is, you meet fishzilla. One minute the pink bill fish fly was idyllically swimming through the cobalt water, next minute the ocean opened and a fridge sized yellowfin mashed the fly. Within seconds the 65lb backing was disappearing at an alarming rate and the fish was unerring in direction or pace, quite simply it was flat out for the horizon. 

Over my shoulder, Dion, the driest Aussie you'll meet drawled "turn the drag up, he'll spool you...". I sunset the drag knob. Less than 10 seconds later, the fish was gone. At first, I'd thought that my rigging had failed but as I wound in I realised that the backing had parted. Why???? It wasn't until I tried to back off the drag that I discovered it had seized solid. The formidable drag.... good on paper I suppose.

Later, Dion fought a tuna to a standstill but lost it at the boat as the hook pulled. Mike boated a junior fish soon after. I call that an ass whooping :) - I'll probably never attach to a larger fish on fly gear and I'm ok with that!

Yup, it was good to be back in Kiribati.