Five days at sea, why not? - Part 1

by Jarrod Day on 30 Aug 2012 There are hundreds of fishing charters around the country offering keen anglers a wide source of fishing styles and though they are a great way to sample fishing around the coast, hopping on a live aboard trip can be far more profitable.

Heading from state to state with limited time can have you land when the weather is unkind or the fish are off the bite but on a live aboard trip you get to experience fishing where not a lot of anglers or commercial fisherman have been before. I guess you can call it virgin waters.

I was invited on board a live aboard trip to sample what the offshore waters of South Australia had to off on board Why Not Fishing Charters out of Coffin Bay. While these grounds have some of the largest and most brutal fish in the Southern Half of the country, I was very keen on getting a line in the water.

Packing for a five day live aboard trip was going to be a problem right from the beginning. With no tackle shop remotely nearby, I had to try and fit every hook, leader and lure known to man into a bag weighing no more than 20 kilos.

After culling my terminals, I was left with a pathetic amount of tackle, although for some it would have looked like I’d packed an entire fishing tackle store.

Arriving at Coffin Bay and after inspecting our living quarters, the rest of the crew joining us arrived. After getting comfortable in our floating home, our arsenal was pulled apart and set, ready to combat the first fish to come along. Unfortunately, it was a school of Dolphins playing in the bow waves, though a nice send off as we exited the entrance into Coffin.

Destination – Pearson Island: After a long journey, we approached a rather large reef system in 50 metres of water.
My preferred method, unbeknown to what lay below, was a paternoster rig tied from 60lb Black Magic tough trace, containing two droppers with a KL 5/0 hook on each.

While waiting in anticipation for my tasty pieces of squid to be devoured, Nigel tied on a pre tied rig given to him by Danny the Deckie. A section of line containing two 9/0 suicide hooks snelled together with a section of green cord between them to avoid being bitten off.

Within seconds of Nigel lowering his bait to the bottom he hooked up to a solid fish.

Not expecting such a hard hit, the battle began with a buckled rod and line being ripped from the reel. The ratchet squealed as more pressure was added to the drag attempting to slow down the challenger. Nigel kept the pressure on and inch by inch coaxed the fish toward the boat. After a few huff’s and puff’s, a monster blue grouper the biggest I had laid eyes on surfaced and was quickly released.

Meanwhile, the rest of us took pleasure in hooking into plenty of big nannygai, swallowtail, leatherjackets and some huge silver trevally.

Though our fishing methods were much the same, the only differences were the monotones bleated out from each angler while battling fish to the surface.

Getting a small taste of what we were in for over the next four days we wound up our lines and set course for the famous Pearson Island.

Being late in the day, we approached Pearson with its red hazy glow as the sun set on the horizon.

We took up anchor in a small cove inside Pearson escaping the oceans swells and prevailing winds.

As comfortable as it was, I quickly re-tied a lighter version of a paternoster rig from 40lb trace with KL 3/0 hooks, ideal for KGW’s in these parts. With the smell dinner cooking on the BBQ, I lowered a squid strip down below.

The first bait met a solid hook-up, at first I didn’t know what had happened since it felt like a steam train just went past, but after clinging too the butt of the light spin rod, I nailed a double hook-up on silver trevally.

John was first to boat a whiting and of exceptional size measuring just over the 50cm mark and fatter than your forearm.

In awe of such a magnificent fish, I quickly rebaited and let fly two tenderised squid strips.

While most of us were waiting for a whiting to take the bait, the silvers quickly honed in making a mess of our rigs.
After a short time, I set the hooks into a nice fish. At first I thought it was silver but mid water began the typical King George boat dive to signify I was on the money.

Under the water, the flood light lit up the shiny flanks of another good whiting placing me on the board with 50cm model.

The night went on with seven solid whiting ranging 50 to 55cm and fatter than a sherrin football. I was amazed at their fighting power at this size; thank god I took the 20lb gear.

Heading out wide: The next day we found ourselves fishing further to the West of Pearson to a little island known as Ward. Ward Island is about as far West as most long range fishing charters offer but with discovery in mind as our ancestors once did, we decided a few lumps further South-West were worth the exploration.

For both Dave and Danny this was new fishing territory that can only be fished with a combination of good weather and die hard anglers. Lucky for this trip, it all fell into place.

In every direction the horizon was blue with no land to be seen, testament of being on a long range charter.
Motoring towards an underwater bommie rising from 80 metres to 13, Dave tooted the horn twice giving fore warning that a school of tuna decided to boil a few hundred metres in front of the bow.

My trolling selection consisted of a Texalium 8-10kg short stroker married to a BMX overhead which was ideal for the size of the tuna we estimated. Everybody grabbed their trolling outfits and released a series of skirts and hardbody lures into the water.

I’d just sent out a black coloured Richter skirt to about 40 metres into the wash and picked the colour based on the day being bright and sunny. I’d figured that against the backdrop of light when looking from below the water toward the surface, a darker lure would catch there attention as they’d see it skipping past before a lighter coloured one. Within seconds of placing the line in the rigger, Benny’s rod howled. With his thought process much the same as mine in lure selection; a solid little tuna took pride in stealing a hundred or so metres of line off the reel.

In pure tuna fashion, my rod took off with a high pitched squeal as the 50lb braid was ripped from the spool.

The battle was very unique, a massive run only to turn and swim back toward the boat at a medium pace. Though this was quite easy to deal with it was the head down, tail up boat side battle that proved a challenge for both of us.
Still, after meeting our opponent’s face to face, they were set free to join the school in which they came.

After everybody had their blue fin fix, it was off again to explore the bommie West of ward.

Next week we dive further into the unknown that surrounds the offshore fishing in South Australia, stayed tuned.