Hi guys,
Been a while since the last report, but honestly it's been a while since we've had a serious fish. With the on and off weather, fishing has become a premium. When I found out that an overnight trip to the Goulburn River was on the cards, I couldn't wait. I had caught trout in the past, but there was something about chasing them in tiny, hard flowing rivers. About wading and catching fish in knee-deep water that was, well, magical. After tennis was cancelled due to (a significant amount of) rain, we had packed the swags, the rods and the rest of the camping stuff and we were ready to go. Leaving our house to bleak skies and a torrential downpour, to say the weather wasn't the best was definitely an understatement. After watching the rain, hail and winds reign supreme, things weren't looking the best for the trip. However, things soon got better, the rain stopped falling and by the time we were at the Goulburn, the waders were on and I started to cast into a beautiful stretch of water:
After about half an hour of pouring rain, the clouds parted, and the sky turned blue. I wanted to get back out onto the river, knowing that the weather could turn to crap in minutes. I asked Dad if he wanted to come out, and he said in a minute or two. I waded out to the opposite bank, where there was a deeper, faster flowing stretch of water. On the other side of this stretch, existed a line of trees, with a section of river that lay out of the main flow. Perfect. There was a a bit of a backwater that looked promising. I could sense the presence of a trout. I waded closer to this fast flowing stretch of water, wary that if I wasn't careful I would be swept off my feet, and soaked from head to toe. I slowly and carefully crept into a casting position. Finding some nice ground to stand on, I made the cast into the pool. It landed, the lure disappearing in the water. The little minnow sunk toward the bottom. Cranking the handle of my reel, I slowly moved it from the pool toward the main flow. But before it was completely swept away by the flow, something stopped it. Something pulled it back towards the pool. And feeling head shakes, I knew that this something wasn’t a fallen tree or a patch of weed. This was a trout. A brown trout. After a short, but lively fight, it became my first river trout. And as I waded back to the campsite to show everyone, Dad, still strapping on his waders, ran toward me to take a couple of snaps:
After dinner was eaten, and the relaxing was done, we went back out, this time to check out a new spot. We left the confines of the caravan park, and walked a little bit upstream of where our campsite was. Unfortunately, aside from a fish on the opposite bank that was constantly teasing us by rising over and over again, we saw zero sign of fish. Soon, the sun got very, very low in the sky, and the air turned cool. And with this, we went back to the comfort of the armchairs around a campfire. Packing up the rods, and rolling out the swags, we ran over to the heat of the fire. Watching the sun set by the fire was a beautiful way to spend the night. Chatting by the fire while roasting marshmallows off a stick that I found on the ground was something that I couldn’t do every day. After the sun had disappeared, and the light had vacated the sky, we got dressed and ready for bed. And after jumping in our sleeping bag, it was lights out.
Waking up to see a sun beating down on a river was a nice sight to see upon waking up. After getting changed, and hopping into my waders, I went out for an early morning flick. I went to our honey-hole from the previous day and went for a flick. Casting and casting, but to no reward, I eventually checked my lure, to find it’s tow point had been bent in the slightest, meaning that the lure had been tracking sideways. I gave it to Dad who gave the lure a bit or a service with his trusty pliers. In the meanwhile, I had tied on another lure, a bigger 5cm jerk bait, and went back out. Unfortunately I was right back in, because the lure I had just tied on, was over the deep, fast flowing stretch of water, and in a tree. I really didn’t want to lose any more expensive lures, so I tied on a soft plastic. But unfortunately, on the 3rd or 4th cast, it too, wound up in a tree. Now I was pretty pissed. My casting was splendid one day, and the next it turned to crap. I looked in the water with my pair of polarised sunnies, and saw it wasn’t too deep. The problem was, it was probably chest deep, and it was the hardest flowing section in the river. But stupidly, I decided to try. And try I did, I made it halfway across that stretch, before I saw the water breaching my waders. I had to turn back. But by turning back, I lost my balance, and the image now should be clear enough that I shouldn’t have to explain what happened next. Soaked, and cold, I went back to the campsite to see an angry face staring me down, only to move its mouth to say, “How?” I got changed, hung my now drenched clothes up, and hooked my waders in a tree upside-down to try to get it to dry. Not my finest fishing moment.
After breakfast, and a couple of hours warming up in the sun, I tested my waders, and although damp, they were wearable. Dad and I went back out (not to our usual spot though…), and started to flick our lures. Seeing that the water looked a bit browner than the previous day, we assumed that it rained overnight. We cast into a deep, slower flowing pool, and soon, I had connected. However, this was a catch not meant to be, as it spat the hooks at my feet. We kept working the river, and soon, I had a chance to redeem myself. I set the hooks into something decent, and when it came up, I was pretty surprised myself:
A spectacularly coloured rainbow, and our only rainbow of the trip. It was a very pretty fish, and it put up a great fight to boot. It was a great way to cap off a spectacular trip. We eventually headed back in, knowing that we had excellent fishing trip, and that there was nothing much that could have been better (aside from being dunked into the freezing cold Goulburn). We rolled up the swags, and were on our way home. It was a fun weekend with some family, and a great fishing trip as well. And driving home it was great to tell Dad, “How many fish did you catch?” and for his response to be lower than mine.
Thanks for Reading,
Sam
