Last couple of weekends have been spent on hunting related stuff. Sunday of last weekend we had a swamp working bee to get a few maimai repairs done, chop firewood and spray back the willow primrose. That nasty stuff's had a ball of a growing season; obviously the wetter summer has had an affect because the growth was hideous. I've never seen it before quite like this; thick mats had grown out.
Individual strands...
Choking mats
A few hours of careful intensive spraying, hopefully it'll knock most of it over. Recovering from a bout of norovirus, the heat didn't agree with me so slept well that night.
The current weekend was set aside for the annual summer paradise duck special season. A few weeks ago while goose hunting we'd been buzzed by hundreds of post moult parries; but they'd mostly dispersed according to the boys. With a number of parties of the property and the adjoining one, we were sure that we'd be able keep the birds moving - we'd set a goose spread as well as having our paarie silhouettes out. A damp hot NE had set in over the past couple of days, and at 4am it was 21 Degrees and chokingly humid. A dark wet cloud lay over the land and stayed there as well lay in our layouts boiling away. It was really uncomfortable. The parries mostly avoided us, however Chewie Tony and I had reular shooting. The boys a couple of paddocks over had a great parrie decoy spread and they limited early before a new crew rotated into their spot. Finally at about 11 a westerly came up so the humidity was replaced by searing sunshine... Feb really is a tough time to hunt from a heat perspective.
Humid hunting... no socks allowed
We finished up with close to limits, had a debrief with some of the locals and other boys and came to the conclusion that the cockies would be happy enough with our efforts. At least there'd be no parries crapping in their water troughs for a while; a couple of hundred had been harvested.
Round about now I'm looking forward to autumn. Hunting in the cool - that's more like it.
A big week, even if a short one on the work front. Human frailty to the fore with the mum in law falling and busting her arm, Milo's dad passing and my old man diagnosed with heart stuff. On the home front we'd missed out at a house auction on Wednesday evening, and so with everything going on I really didn't have much time to think about getting out fishing for a couple of days - but I'm damn glad I did get out!
By late Wednesday evening, TT and I had in a flurry of sms messages decided that we'd head to Galatea to stay with a guy he knew, chase fish down the Rangitaiki from our yaks, fish the low reaches of the Whirinaki, and if time allowed check out some of his old haunts.
I didn't know if I'd be able to be up really early and ready to meet him the next morning, so that night put the roof rack and yak on the truck to at least get a head start. Up at 6 packing stuff (forgot my head lamp) and at TT's by 7.30, we soon had his yak aboard and headed off down the line. The trip from Rotorua to Murupara through the forest was punctuated by the occasional winding down of windows to listen to the scream of cicadas - they were on song at last, after what has been a cool and windy summer. By lunch time we'd arrived at Pheasant Tail Lodge which would be our base, and I was feeling pretty sleepy but ready for a mission. First up would be a walk up the middle reaches of the Whirinaki so we set off with light gear and rigged with cicada imitations.
Vince at the lodge had told us to walk for at least 30 minutes before fishing, but with no prints on the bank we began a bit lower down and in the first pool I missed a trout that snatched the fly under. TT got on the board soon after, and after that we rose a few fish. They seemed to not be hard coded on eating the cicada, and a few drifts with nymphs nabbed a number of fish.
We did well though, knocking over some nice fish, despite the at times ferocious downstream wind, that featured more and more as the afternoon wore on.
We moved through some lovely water, catching rainbows only, hoping for an elusive brownie to show. The cicada when hit was absolutely smashed. TT was using his #3 Composite Developments and I had the old Sage XP #5 - by the time we'd taken a few each using his little rod, I was itching for a lighter rod.
At 18.00 we called it, to allow time to get back downstream, have a meal and prepare for the evening rise. God I love fishing the twilight caddis hatch, and its been some time between drinks on that front. We arrived at a long glide before dusk, and waited for the first signs of fish. Soon the little guys began to splash. I grabbed a fallen cicada, struggling in the shallows and threw it midstream; however he gathered himself and made it across the river smashing headlong into a willow - before falling with a plop on the water... he only made it 2m before disappearing in a gulp.
I sent my Elk Hair Caddis on an exploratory drift and a wee neb broke the surface - I soon landed a small but fat brown, our first for the trip. As darkness descended I worked a riffle entering the glide and 'thought' I saw a rise and struck into a fish that dragged me downstream. TT was on at the same time and he quickly played his fish out; another small brown. My rainbow was about 3lb and fat as a horse. That was it.
Back at base we talked with Vince about how to put our yaks in for a day drifting the Rangitaiki, but it seemed that without 2 cars we'd not be able to make it work. Besides which, this is no neighbourhood in which to leave a vehicle unattended and expect it to still be intact when you return...
Day 2 - doing it
We decided on a change of plan. Early on we'd visit a spring creek that TT hadn't been to for years and then later we'd head up above Minginui for a look at the middle reaches of the Whirinaki. The spring creek was a cracker - clear and slow, weed beds all over and cruising brownies. While still, over head conditions were grey, making spotting very difficult.
We found browns - big fish, cruising feeding lanes between the weed beds. At the fist pool I cast a wee Klinkhamer at a rising fish and he inspected the fly before inhaling it. On the strike he immediately charged into the weed and buried himself. I tried pulling him out and only succeeded in getting him to dive into the willows where he broke off. FUN!
We fished on, raising and losing fish - while the were ready to eat they certainly didn't want to know about being caught. I nabbed a wee video of one fish that I hooked on the 3 weight...
And skull-dragging proved the kindest way of getting fish to shore. After working the beat we went back to the car and drove for an hour up into Te Urewera, past Minginui before dropping down into the river.
The bank was covered in prints and only a couple of fish came to the fly - one in an amazing hit on a cicada that saw him tearing down the pool ridiculously fast. After an hour we ran into a Maori bloke with a rod; he told us that there were anglers ahead of us so we turned and went down to the car. Next stop was in the native forest where the river was spectacular. Again the overhead conditions foiled us, making spotting bloody difficult.
The fish we found in this beautiful section were wary and ghosted away at the cast. Even the longest most delicate leaders weren't enough.
We each worked to get casts into fish, they simply had seen it all before. We set a quick pace getting out of the forest then headed back to eat, grab Vince and head down to the Aniwhenua outlet canal for the evening.
It was some time before the hatch started - one second nothing, the next fish splashed on the surface. TT and I both hooked up straight away and I lost what felt like a decent fish while he banked his. Darkness fell and then I muppeted my leader into a fine knot so gave it away and watched Vince work and land a fish.
Driving away from Aniwhenua in the dark, I was pretty damn tired. But tired in that nice relaxed way, not that $hitty day in the office way. A return trip is an absolute must.
Last Friday, Rudi Hoetjes who is Regional Manager for Northland Fish & Game Council undertook the annual "parrie" trend count by flying over nominated sites and counting/estimating the number of birds available.
I've been asking ben Wilson @ AWF&G if we'd get a summer season and the news came through today.
Results:
1. Te Hana Irrigation Lake 550 Shelduck
2. Wellsford O2 Pond 900 Shelduck
3. Tapora Peninsula ponds 320 Shelduck
4. Tapora Peninsula Wetland 350 Shelduck 6 Black Swan
5. Kaipara Harbour (Glorit Area) 1,450 Black Swan (The swan were again all concentrated on this area and feeding on eel grass)
6. Kaipara Harbour 220 Shelduck
7. South Kaipara Heads Lakes 260 Shelduck 4 Black swan
8. Helensville O2 Pond 400 Shelduck
9. Tawharanui Peninsula 255 Shelduck
10. Omaha Beach O2 Pond 350 Shelduck
11. Snells Beach Pond 400 Shelduck
12. Snells Beach O2 pond 400 Shelduck
13. Spectacle Lake 50 Shelduck
The total time for the flight was 1 hour 45 minutes
Weather conditions clear with approximately 25 knots of wind.
This translates to enough birds for a special summer parrie season, to be held over 2 days (22 & 23 Feb) with a 10 bird per person per day limit. I found it to be a real highlight last year, so greet the news with anticipation and a bit of excitement.
The shotgun will come out of hiding.
The Tui Ridge syndicate will take delivery of our poult pheasants in a couple of weeks; so we needed to finish up the pen with netting cover, feeders and drinkers. maybe a fifth of our birds will go into this pen, the others going into last year's (much larger) pen.
At day's start
The feature of the pen is the big tree in the font third, a perfect place for a hawk to sit while selecting which juicy poult to pounce and then chew on. Because you're not allowed to fully cover a release pen (stupid regulation!) we would only be able to drape net over a portion to allow some cover that the birds can wander in and out of, a temporary arrangement. The team was Rick, Dickie & Helen, Andrew, Malcolm and me. We got stuck in and got things looking pretty good in a few hours.
There are some lovely gulleys nearby that should hold plenty of birds.
So, next mission for the syndicate will be collecting the birds and releasing them into the pens, continuing to suppress predators... feeding, watering...
Despite the forecasters calling 20+ kt NE winds, Sunday was the only chance over the long weekend to get out at fish. Ostensibly a fly fishing mission, we'd chucked some bait rods in at the last minute - to some this is like swearing in church, but TT wanted fish for dinner and a juicy pillie is a pretty damn effective way of having fresh snapper for dinner.
TT and I were getting the boat hooked on when Michael arrived. Another swoffer, he's met TT when practice casting in a park. TT had offered to show him how it was done; had then promptly hooked a tree or fence or stray cat on the back cast and snapped Michael's rod on the front cast. Ehem.
We launched at Westhaven in a minor gale. This wasn't going to be easy. Because of the short chop the water was murky as we headed to the north side of the harbour to find cover. The naval docks were bird and fish free, so a quick cruise to try against the Devonport wharf piles saw us working flies fairly soon.
Michael casting into the old wharf
Nothing moved after several drifts so we decided to poke our nose around North Head and into the howling NE "breeze". It was simply shit out there but on we pressed. As we moved out we briefed Michael on what to expect when casting to channel markers. The poor bugger really struggled to aerialise a line and with no double haul in his arsenal couldn't punch a line into the wind. It was more than a wind so I wasn't that surprised... plus the wind was against the tide, all in all it was pretty hard.
No dice at any of the buoys, markers or poles that we visited before running back into the harbour with the wind... which was increasing.
The afternoon was spent fishing at Shoal Bay, using both fly and bait... the bait put dinner on TT's table. The only really interesting thing was the medium sized kingi that chased up a hooked snapper.
It takes a slight kind of madness to try and fly fish in those conditions, but good to blow away some cobwebs none the less.
On my way home across the NW Motorway viaduct, I saw 3 swoffers fishing the Pt Chev shell banks. I'm seeing more and more fly rodders out there these days.
Had a few hours at the vice today, replenishing flies lost and preparing for an upcoming mako shark adventure. That should be fun, but with their dental attributes the fly needs a few additional bits and pieces.
But to start with I worked up a few piper flies, as I've been using them extensively and almost exclusively of late. They are an easy tie, so not hard turning them out. I made a few sizes, just in case. The red head is to give the fish a target... not sure if that works really, but the fly sure does so no point changing a killer pattern.
Next up, some mako flies. I used 10/0 Gamakatsu SL12 hooks, and tied a couple of bright attractor types along with a couple of "tuna head" flies.
Then rigged them with heat weld wire, which I attached to 100lb clear shock tippet, finally joining to a 30lb fluro leader.
The theory with these guys is that we'll be chunking cubes of skippie to attract the sharks; so drifted down as a chunk hopefully the shark will make a mistake.
Also whipped up some general attractors, just to hiff at the pointy end of the shark and hopefully get him worked up enough to bite.
Anyway, tomorrow a harbour adventure, maybe we can get a bigger fish worked up.
I've been freezing my smoked fish lately, with mixed results mostly due to moisture inside the bags. SWMBO went out and came home with a vacuum packer today, which was spurred by a nice piece on fallow venison that Tim had presented in a vac seal bag - still yum a year later on.
I put it to work this evening and the results are awesome.
I can see this thing getting quite a bit of use. Highly recommended, can't wait to seal up a pheasant or 2.
Yesterday, I got smacked. Smacked and sent to my room to have a little cry – except that when its big kingfish doing the smacking there’s not much point crying, that’s a just a fact of life. Andy and I had had a week look at the long range forecast (which in a long, narrow country like NZ has to be taken with a grain of salt sometimes), and as Sunday approached the forecast firmed up so a West Coast trip was reality!
We started at 5am, hit the floor, got some coffee in and headed for Manu Bay. Conditions were close to perfect, a long lazy 1 m swell not posing any concerns. Soon we were on the water and away, heading for Gannet Island. Dawn was brilliant, the sun rising over Te Ika-a-Māui (North Island – The fish of Maui) in our wake.
Dawn - the best time of day
Gannet Island
We both had music plugged into our ears – an excellent way to kill time on the journeys to and from Gannet. Finally we arrived, 3rd boat on the spot and began our initial drift. As I’d approached Raglan I realised that I’d not remembered the Stella – loaded with PE8 it’s a monster stopper. As it was I would’ve been stick-baiting with it had I remembered to put it in anyway; I’d put in the little PE4 jigging set and 12 weight fly rod, thinking that I’d have some light tackle fun. So that first drift was a semi disaster, I got hit straight away – but the braid snapped at the water line… immediately I thought that the braid was rotten – but nah, I’d tested it at home recently. On with a new leader – hit – bust off – a clean break. Uh-oh. Andy showed me how to tie the FG knot, so I sat weaving the new leader on which took a few minutes… we then tested the knot thoroughly and reset the drag back…. Andy in the meantime had put a couple of fish on deck so I was ready to do the same.
Next drift and boom, double strike – this time everything held and we both got fish aboard. The fish were biting well despite the moon being in the western sky – not my fav – and we settled in to our fights with grunts and groans.
Soon though, I hit a good one that I only just managed to lift. With the drag at sunset it bored off and dragged me into the reef… jig #3 gone and new leader time… Andy got the same treatment a while later. It was outstanding fishing – as more boats arrived every one of them at some stage had one or 2 rods bending.
Happy punters on Clansman
We put a couple of fish on ice for eating and then I broke out the #12. Silly silly me. I’d theorised with Andy that simply cranking up the drag and fighting tough would get me nowhere in these environs (having tried that before) so I backed it right off, stripped line and got the fly down. The first hit ripped line through my hands then the Gulfstream started purring and then screaming. The backing loops smacked through the guides and quickly I was well into backing….. but I just couldn’t coax the fish off the reef and soon the leader was cut. I rigged again. This time with drag cranked up. It was an even more impressive bust off – this time the drag was shrieking as the fish made cover in seconds. Fair to say that the punters on the charter boat Clansman were having a bit of a giggle at the guy with the noodle stick getting destroyed. Not to be deterred (oh really?), I re-rigged. This time the hit was mid water and I had the fish under control. I said to Andy that this time I was onto a winner as I was gaining line, when it all went slack – in a funny way. There was still some weight but when the front quarter of the fish popped up I knew it wasn’t my day – the tax man had called and taken his pound of flesh.
Taxed.....
Andy in the meantime was steadily catching fish… I thought I’d take another shot on the fly and again got hit. Another crazy unstoppable run and this time the cut was in the head of the line, so I packed the fly rod away. If I’d thought that my run of losing jigs (at $25 - $30 each – OW) was over, I ought to have thought again.
By session’s end I was down 5 jigs and the jig bag was looking bare. We were both a bit beat up and were feeling it in arms and legs so with a solid session behind us called it. The little Jigging Master rod had clearly never been bent as much as it had today, as it had developed cuts in the fore grip – war wounds.
We'd decided to have a troll on the way home so setup a couple of light rods with skippie lures and put a marlin lure out on the Tiagra. The water was blue and inviting looking and screamed tuna, but it was the big lure that got hit first – a mako charged the lure from the side and cartwheeled on it, luckily not hooking up. A few seconds later and both of the skippie lures were hit; we grabbed a rod each and laid into them. Skipjack tuna on light gear are the best fighters going and Andy’s soon threw the hook. I got mine under a semblance of control and had it boat side before trying to lift it to the net resulting in the rod snapping like a .22 shot going off.
We handlined the fish in and put him on ice…. Luckily that was the end of the tackle carnage. The rest of the journey was highlighted by a couple more skippies and then finally an albacore – just what we wanted for sashimi.
Back at Andy’s we had quite some cleaning of the boat to do – blood on the deck and everywhere else a reminder of an epic session. We put the fish on ice and then Andy prepared the albacore.
Sitting in the afternoon sun with a cold beer overlooking Moonlight Bay eating fresh sashimi – a fine finale to another outstanding mission.
Resolutions –
1) Buy a jig per week to replace those lost.
2) Always carry the Stella – ALWAYS.
3) Don’t underestimate Mr. Seriola lalandi lalandi – over sand he can be tamed but in a reef system with toothy critters around he’s a dirty low down filthy tackle wrecker.
4) Grow stronger finger skin – the FG is fine the first 2 times, but by the fifth… owwwwww!
