TWO FROM TWO AND A JEW FOR YOU

by Peter Oberg

Well its been on my mind all week within a world where I need 10 extra hours every day, and, after doing 18 hour days for the past three days Damo and I bit the jew bug and went for a bash. Today felt right, looked seemingly Ok, tides, moon and weather looked the goods. A brief coastal watch camera check even raised the hackles on my neck.

A quick phone call to Damo and we both called work quits, cancelled appointments and the like and were off by 2.00pm heading for coastal waters.

This was the second trip after a Jewfish this year, the first only being two months ago where I was rewarded with a nice little fella to get me off the mark.

We struggled our way to the spot and within seconds disaster looked imminent. There was no gutter, there was no abating sea, there was no sand where it should have been, and there definitely was the entire worlds supply of weed from one end of the beach to the other as far as we could see. Not just any weed, but every single type of weed imaginable, and it even went out as far as you could possibly ever hope to cast.

We sat and had a drink attempting to hide our emotions, then calmly started rigging up some rods. There wasn’t the usual urgency to get a bait in the water like normal, and the first baits didn’t hit the water until 5.00pm. The first weed fish was washed ashore in a matter of minutes, closely followed by a dozen other. It looked hopeless. There was no open areas to cast, and there definitely was no hope of not having the raging current drag weed onto the line. The sea even started to build and the predicted 1.7metre sea was simply, at times, appearing to be double that.

A nice little sit back up with the gear had us calmly wiping sweat from our brows, and it was time for a quick beer.

Energised, pumped again, and with a new vigor not seen before with such a dismal outlook, we hit the baits once more. The light was now fading, and we happened to spot an opening up the beach with what appeared to be little or no weed. We flew over to investigate, hopes rising, faster than we could run.

The first couple of baits even had bites, and with that a reasonable bite that ripped off half a squid head. Side by side we soldiered, and then a nice fresh slimey fillet (compliments of the tubes only 4 days prior) was hammered on my 30 pound Fireline. A second of good weight and then nothing... Damn! Missed it...

Time for a squid head again and I cast it to the exact spot where I had extracted the hit but nothing. Not even a picker, and the weed was starting to reappear.

I wound in frantically and produced my secret weapon which just happened to be a nice fresh, but frozen rock hard salmon fillet strip. Hooked once through the tip out it went, a bit more to the left this time to avoid the encroaching weed, right next to Damo, who had been having his own frustrations. It was now 5.50pm. We stood as soldiers within arm distance discussing the events unfolding and then I had a peck on the bait, "Damo, I just had a bite" ...then whack away she goes, and wouldn’t you know it straight through the damn weed.

Five more minutes of frustration fighting the mother load of weed and one very angry jewfish, and we washed up a tired but beaten little 8kg Jewfish. Ten seconds later the hook falls out!

The weed moved in, the sea got worse, we did however still manage to miss another little one among the weed mess, and we gave up hope by 7.00pm. We fished until 8.30 having the world championship weed challenge, then packed up for the 2 and a half hour trip home.

Two nice little Jewies, from two trips this year and 100% happy.