Fish 'n Tips

Game Plan

It was one of those magical, early-winter mornings. Light breezes, warm sunshine, clear skies and an almost deserted beach to wander and fish meant that it really didn't matter if the fish weren't cooperating - it was simply great to be out enjoying all that nature had to offer. Which was just as well, because I was heading home with an empty creel.

Ahead, a lone angler stood at the water's edge, flicking small baits into the channel behind the sandbar. As I closed the distance between us I summed him up as a no-nonsense, down-to-earth fisherman. He was kitted out with a small backpack (probably for his tackle and other essential bits and pieces), a bait bucket on his belt and a large bag across his shoulder to hold his catch as he worked his way along the shoreline.

I could see that the rod and reel were worn but functional and the terminal tackle was fine and well matched to the likely species, with the smallest of sinkers. This bloke knew his stuff.

As I approached I slackened my pace and posed the universal, almost quintessential question used to open a deep and meaningful dialogue between two noble, piscatorial hunters.

"How are they bitin'?"

Of course, the opening line worked a treat and after a brief report on the fishing at hand, we fell to exchanging information and ideas on fishing generally.

USING THE TIDE
As I said, this bloke knew his stuff and, like the best of travelling anglers, it took him all of about five seconds to determine that I was a local and to start quizzing me more intently on the local fishing - in a polite, well-mannered way, of course.

But my new Mexican mate didn't need much coaching from this Bannabender. He had booked into the nearby caravan park just the previous day and had already cased the joint. He had climbed the highest sand dune to get the lay of the land, making a mental map of the holes and channels in the lagoon-like estuary which lay behind the wide sandbar. He had then used the low tide to explore the flats, refining his information by pinpointing channels and dropoffs, yabbie beds and snags. He looked for flathead lays and checked the texture of the sand in the backwaters and, I'll bet, he also found a few other locals to politely pump a bit of info out of.

When the sun rose next morning this bloke was primed and ready to go.

He pumped fresh yabbies from the flats he had located the previous afternoon and then fished the same spot as the making tide flooded the pock-marked beds. As the tide rose over the dropoffs and into the backwaters he worked his way along the beach, prospecting the clear waters with his lightly-weighted baits - baits that were cast and allowed to settle only briefly before the old spinning reel cranked them into a dead-slow, erratic retrieve.

Eventually he followed the tide into the highest backwater where he continued to almost subconsciously cast and retrieve as we talked in the morning sun.

Hopefully I was able to offer him a few snippets to help him during his stay, but I suspect I gleaned far more in return. His textbook approach to a new angling scenario was spot-on and one that many travelling anglers could learn from. Within a few hours of arriving he had located fresh bait and potential fishing spots, determined what species he was likely to catch and topped up his info with a friendly yarn with the locals.

He didn't blindly hurl a frozen bait into just any patch of water. And when he started fishing he stayed on the move, continually searching for the fish rather than sitting and hoping the fish would come to him.

Eventually I wished him luck and left him to fish the last half hour of the making tide. He deserved to catch fish and I hoped he did.

FOG FACTS
If there's one thing I associate with a great winter's morning on the water, it's fog. And the thicker the better. In fact, some of my best boating days have been preceded by a cautious drive to the ramp through a real pea-souper. The swirling mists add to the atmosphere and adventure and are usually a good sign of a calm, clear day ahead - at least in my neck of the woods.

But what is fog and how is it formed? Of course, most folk understand that fog is a dense cloud of water droplets hanging close to the ground. These suspended water droplets are about 0.01mm in diameter and a dense fog contains about 1200 visible droplets per cubic centimetre of empty space (don't ask me how they count them!). Fog is defined as an obscurity which reduces visibility to less than 1000m, but if visibility is greater than 1000m then the obscurity is defined as a mist.

There are a number of different types of fog, but the most common, known as radiation fog, occurs when the ground releases heat it has absorbed during the day, eventually cooling the air above it until water vapour in the air condenses into droplets of water.

Fogs layers can be up to 300m in depth, or so shallow that they are restricted to shallow surface depressions such as creek beds and gullies.

Essential information, I'm sure you'll agree. From a practical point of view, fogs can be anything from a simple inconvenience to a real hazard for boaties. With familiar landmarks shrouded in mist - or is that fog? - navigation can be difficult. Speeds should be reduced to decrease the risk of collision with hazards such as rocks, headlands, bridge pylons or other boats, to name just a few. And you may have to rely on a GPS, compass or depthsounder (or all three) to follow a channel, find an island or locate your fishing spot. Caution is essential, especially on narrow or busy waterways.

There may be days when you're better off switching off the alarm and snoozing for another hour or two, but if you can safely get out on the water early, you're almost guaranteed of some spectacular scenery, especially around sunrise. And chances are that within an hour or two of dawn the fog will lift, revealing nearly perfect conditions to be out on the water.

It's just another reason why I love boating and fishing at this time of the year.