fishgowander

Hey they are pretty cool 3d images - are they accessable

Did you have any luck? I am planning to go out on Friday

Anyone interested in crewing tomorrow out of Berowra on a 38' Flybridge for Kings and Snapper off Terrigal and Avoca - must be prepared to pitch in for fuel, have all own gear and dont get sea sick. Send me a PM if you want to come

Well, the group of us met at Berowra, keen and eager to go at 6.30am. Becuase of the freezing conditions each of us had the front of our beenies draped down to the tops of our eyelids. We all introduced ourselves as we had never crewed together before. I was the blue beenie. There was sky blue, dark blue, red and black beenies on board. All the beenies had come equipped with enough rods, tackle, food, ice, bait and so on in such volume, that I am sure that the boat was now sitting 3 inches deeper in the water than it had been prior to them boarding. But indeed, all of the beenies were ready to catch everything (anything). Our plan was to head to west head and pick up a few yakkas before heading outside. So off we went. Gratiously, I was left on my own on the flybridge to freeze and navigate the river with the front clears down because of the dew on them and the difficulty of the refraction of the sun. The other beenies sat in the heated saloon apparently working out whether the dropper that had been brought on board would be long enough reach the peak at Browns. So off we went with the goal of first getting some yakkas, then to fish the reefs and wrecks off shore then to Browns then home in the dark. (Nearly 110nm round trip) We got to west head and despite the fact that we had enough tackle to satisfy the requirements of any decerning shopper at a tackle store, no one brought a pump to aerate the water in our makeshift livey tank. The beenie responsible to bring one didnt turn up. We decided to substitue plan A for plan B which was to change the water a few times over in our tank. After 15 or so cowan young and a couple of slimeys we started for our first waypoint which was the valiant. (which isnt a sunk car btw.) As we were heading out I could see the patenoster rigs being pulled out and clipped on to the swivels on their lines. The beenies were rearing to go!! As we approached our first waypoint we could see that there was a dive boat already over the top of our mark. Despite the fact that I am sure we had the right tackle on board to catch divers, it wasnt our targeted species so we turned starboard and headed to Boultons reef. We pulled up at Boultons and the beenies scrambled for position. After releasing the drags on the reels, a few early enquiries on our lines alerted us to leather jackets below. I yelled out in disappointment "bloody leather jackets!" I was hoping for a nice red, the type that has been written about in the last couple of weeks. The red beenie responds by saying, "leather jackets are nice to eat". - A typical response from a "starved of action" land based fisho I thought. So after a few lost hooks and rigs (dont worry we still had tackle boxes stacked four high in places of hooks and sinkers) we decided to head to Reggies. Looking down on the deck from the 'bridge I heard the click of the bail arms and the flick of the brake leavers. The beenies were away again. After an hour we had only drifted about a n mile, however none of us had reported any enquiries on our baits at all. During this lull in proceedings, the get to know you session commenced where suttle questions and answers are exchanged to determine who knew more about what and who was just bluffing with all the tackle. The conversation that ensued with the beenies didnt draw any conclusions in terms of finding out who had the greatest knowledge and experience of all. I think it was too early and all cards were being played close to the chest just in case a big fish was caught by one of us and one of us could maybe then get away with just a little bit of fisho bul***. At 11.30 we logged in with Coastal Patrol and make a start on our nearly 2 hour voyage down to Browns. We managed an average of 18knts all the way to the mountain.(no not panorama) The swell was down to maybe .5 metre and the sea only lumpy, so a reasonably straight forward and relaxing drive down. All the beenies were due at this point for their second dose of kwells, so rather than remind them as they were all grown men, I knew that the one(s) who haddn't dosed up again would soon be exposed! On arriving at Browns after checking in again with costal patrol, we trolled for a little while, skirts, poppers and jet heads. In the distance i could see 5 or so boats out there with the same idea as us, but seemingly no action for them or us. The water looked ok but was cold. Anyway we pulled up at our spot of choice and started cubing. As soon as we started creating our burley trail, the dark blue beeny came running out of the cabin to the side of the boat and with his head over the side he did his best to contribute to the trail. The poor bugger - he looked sick. Red and violet flushed over his face, his beenie had even turned pale! The contribution was big and extended. And as soon as he would straighten himself up to observe his slick , over he went again. On and on as though he was Pro Hart painting an abstract canvass over the sea surface! I disregarded the temperature reading on the sounder at that time. Would have made the SST watchers come to invade us if they had known what it read. "Now I feel better" as the colour rushed back to his beenie. And thinking he would now gallantly take command of his borrowed rod and reel, he did an about face and headed straight back to the leather lounge. While this was happening, (and we were cubing) the quest to quietly lobby and ascertain everyones level of fishing knowledge and experience rared its ugly head again. The light blue beenie came forward and asserted that as he was the oldest, (well at least we gauged he was the oldest from the estimated age of his reel sitting on the purposeful rod bought the day before) he probably was the most experienced. I hid my age under my beenie and diverted the reference of most knowledgeable and experienced to how many dvd's and books and blogs one had read. (Can you tell nothing was happening with our lines and hooks?) The red and black beenie emerged clearly as the leaders here, with the black beenie happy to make copies of any that anyones library lacked. Nevertheless once all the bull was taken out of the conversation, it was very clear that out of all of us none of us had any experience what so ever about chasing YFT. The red beanie however had watched to most dvd's, read the most books and had trolled the most fishing websites. And he had the tackle that would bring delight to justify the advertising campaign costs of the tackle store they were purchased from. So we decided to move to another spot and start cubing. We had passed a type of charter vessel on the way east of Browns a couple of hours earlier. Now that we had turned back to the mountain the consensus was that given that the vessel was still in the same spot two hours later, he must be somewhat on the money. Whats more they were wearing beenies too. So we stopped some distance from him and started our new burley trail. And why not we still had 14kgs of pillies left? We had taken it in turns to cube throughout the day. It was the red benies turn. After about 20 minutes of cubing the red beenie gets his first strike!!! "Im on!! he yells. Even the dark blue beenie rose from the dead on the lounge to see what this pandemonium was all about. I called it early as an albatros and I was right. The bird had got caught on the line and while protesting vermently was being dragged back to the boat. "Get the gaff!" Shouts the red beeny. - I thought to myself - Surely his not going to gaff the bird" "Only kidding" he then says, and chuckled. Relieved also, was the light blue beenie who by this stage had admirably sedated the bird by placing a towel over the birds eyes. Mind you after the use the towel had endured by that part of the day I would have been sedated too had you put it over my head. The bird is released. By this point in time, as there had now been no action for 3 hours, the light blue beanie suggests that we should go home. It was going to take us at least 3 hours to get back. In unisome the red beanie and I protested, and explained to the light blue beanie, that the DVD of authority, (of which each chapter we discussed and disected while cubing) says that the best fish are caught on dusk. So we were going to hang in till at least dusk. The black beenie by this stage, had turned a pale shade of charcoal but was doing well to keep up appearances. We could see he wanted to go too, but certainly didnt put any pressure on. I worked out straight away that he had watched the DVD too. He knew about staying till dark and dark over sickness always prevail. The next hour passed with its end culminating in another strike. I called it again for an albatros and I was right. The light blue and the red beenie untangled the bird and released him. I could see a small degree of regret on the face of the red beanie as he did not get a chance to kiss the bird before it was released. So on nightfall we began to pack up. Those of us in the know agreed either we had missed something in the DVD or it had left something out. It didnt matter because it was a great adventure anyway and who needs the real thing when you can watch it on a DVD!

I have a 38' flybridge 4 yr old and looking for some crew to Browns from Berowra. If youve got your own gear, dont get sick and can pitch in for fuel send me a PM.