Videos
Jewie season Brad!
- Category: Brunswick Heads
- Published on Friday, 20 May 2011 22:02
- Written by Jay 'Yakfisher' Penfold
Episode one
School holidays were afoot, head chef Brad is calling for an early start to the Jewie season. He's issued the challenge to catch the biggest Jewie. Pft, say I, the river has been so fresh of late, I held little hope of boating anything. So regardless, my seven year old daughter perched in the back of the Revo and we trolled slowly down to spot X,without so much as a bump. Rain looked imminent. Conditions were squally. Daughter decides "Daddy i want to go home now". So I said to her that "we'd go no further than another 300m ahead and finish our trolling run", then would head for home. No sooner than I had said the word home, the trolled hot pink 2" Micro Mullet on the Shimano Jewel 3-6 kg spin stick was loaded up and the rod holder was creaking, sending thumps through the hull. We were on. Hooked up, and BIG.
I hadn't set huge amounts of drag, but still enough to have some authority, not wanting to pull or straighten hooks, but never let the fish get too much line, a steady tick, tick, tick of the drag for most of the fight. Still, For about the 300m I'd promised my daughter we'd go further, we were towed around in figure of eights over and over agin, then in circles, under trees into less than a meter of water and back accross the other side of the river. Heart pounding stuff, my daughter cheering me on all the time and fishing my other rod out of the trees. (Note to self: one rod less trouble than two.) Once the fish had come yakside, I aimed the gaff (it's first use on the yak) for the underside of the gills, striking perfectly driving the ppoint of the gaff out through the eye on the other side and not piercing the flesh. WHat happened next surprised me. Although ten minutes of to and fro had past, and the fish lay quietly on it's side within touching distance, the second I sank the gaff, it went into overdrive, thrasshing madly, pulling a muscle in my back as I wrestled it on board. I pulled the hooks, both trebles pinned well, grabbed it by the gills and tried to take a photograph of it by holding it at arm's length, yet couldn't get it in frame. I layed it on my lap, still couldn't get it in frame.
It started to rain cats and dogs, I pulled a raincoat out of the centre hatch and my daughter threw it over herself upside down, crouched in the back. I necked the fish and threw it around the drive well and I pedalled my guts out in the rain the 3kmsto the boat ramp. As soon as we landed at the ramp the torential rain ended abruptly. So we dragged the kayak through town to the local fish shop where we weighed her in on the scales at the back of the shop at 4.5 kg and 80cm, a honker of a jew for the upper estuary! No one had taken a potograph for a trophy shot yet so we headed to Poinciana Cafe where i work, and Stefan, a regular customer took some shots on my phone. Took an hour to scale and fillet. Freaked out a few locals dragging the yak through town with that fish in the footwell! Looked like this on the plate.
Episode two.
Life sucked. Weeks of torrential rain had rendered the river a catastophic chocolate mess. Unfishable. Work and parenting duties had also stopped me from wetting the mirage drive. Family due to arrive in the afternoon and I'd promised them some North Coast jewie for dinner, and had never let them down yet. Kitchen banter between Brad and I consisted of "Hey brad, it's Jewie season" and "Hey Jay, I've heard it's Jewie season." By a stroke of luck I had the opportunity to fish a full moon high tide, so I took it. Set off dragging the yak through the center of Mullumbimby to my goat track boat ramp, the 1.5km to the river. Crisp blue sky, beanie weather, river full of mullet, so many jumping, so many fish on the sounder. Headed for spot X. Trolled it over and over again, threw flickbaits,trolled 'em dead slow, did everything. Nothing. Not even rat bream.
Where's my Mojo gone?
Trolling the little 2" hot pink micro mullet that Dunebuggy had given me, the one that took the last big jew, I began to question what I was doing on the river at all. The tide had topped and turned and was really starting to run. I headed for home. Suddenly 40cm of Dusky Flathead jumped on. Mojo coming back? Not sure. Could just be tide change? Not sure. Headed further upstream, a rat flattie took it. OK, DB's micro mullet might be workin' the mojo now.
I was within a 700m window of the boatramp,coming out of a half meter of water into 1.4m, dodging a fallen tree heading for another where 2PinkAnchors had taken a serios bass, watching the rod tip to see whether I'd snag up the fallen timber I's just passed. Damnit. The rod tip slowly loaded up, kept loading up until the Revo had turned through 45 degrees. "SNAAAAG" I shouted, annoyed at myself. Then the rod tip bucked. And bucked, and line peeled off. Then I looked at the sounder and saw the biggest arches i've ever seen, all in around one and half meters of water. Seven minutes later, six missed gaff attempts and half a heart attack I realised I had onboard a decent fish. I necked whislt on the gaff, slung it in the rear well with the gaff point toward me so it couldn't get out, and hit the pedals for home.
I dragged the yak up the ramp, a local guy was there watching and shot a photo for me. Then off to my local fish and chippery for yet another weigh in. Went 4kg and 78cm. Curious thing, the fish had a 30lb trace ab=nd swivel hanging out it's mouth, gut hooked. You could even see where the green braid had failed on the double uni knot. At the pub in the afternoon today, I met a guy who uses the same setup and lost a good fish...using dark green braid, two weeks ago.
I cooked this fish for my folks exactly the same way as I had done for the last one, having made enough baked beans for a small army and frozen them. I managed to fillet this one in 40 minutes. It fed six people not including using all the trimmings for a substantial ceviche to share. It melted in the mouth and was spectacular eating. Bring on Jew season.
5 hours ago
