My Diary 

12/14/03

Harvest time has always been special to me. It reminds me of when I was a child running around the hay field chasing the door mice and rabbits as the combine tightened the trap on the last bit of hay. Everyone would be in a festive mood, gathering the corn that nature had provided. PINS in the fall gives me the same feeling. The fish are plentiful and the harvest begins. I am stocking my larder for what could be the slower months of winter ahead. The beaches are left to the sincere and the knowing. At this time of year you have the old and the new; the Jacks, Macs and Mullet etc. moving south, and the Reds and Pomp's being the new boys on the block who will stay for the winter. This provides you with an ideal time to catch a variety of fish. On this day, we caught seven species.

Billy had phoned me the day before and told me that the Jacks looked like they were staging below the 20's and that I should bring my fly rod if I finally wanted to catch one. I arrived on the beach at about 8am. The water was calm and the beach was perfect for a quick drive south. The sun was shining, there was very little wind, and the temp was in the 60's. Quickly shooting through the high banks, I came across the first set of pelicans working the first gut, moving quickly north as they pounded the bait the Jacks were scaring to the surface. Someone was fishing them so I gave it a pass, pushing towards God's country south of the 30. The pelicans soon came into sight again. I stopped the truck and loaded the fly rod. "No wind and a close first gut should make this easy picking," I thought. As I approached the gut I could see the young Jacks blasting through the curl of the wave. As per normal, I got a couple of casts off, then continued with the same shit that has plagued me ever since I got the notion to fly fish the surf. Line wrapped around my legs, hooks in my back, and the damn fly dropping just in front of my rod tip. Calming myself, I remembered what Billy has tried to teach me.

By the time I had got it going the fish had gone north. I ran up the beach to get in front of them again but it was not my time. I think I had better practice this noblest form of fishing, or design a suit that is hook proof and come up with a clip down fly.

Moving south, the Jacks had disappeared and it was time to hunt and harvest the Pomp's and Reds using a method that I can do: long casting small baits to where the fish are, using the DCD3 with shrimp as the key. This small hooked rig will produce some amazing size fish. The Demon Circle Ex Fine wire 7/0 by Mustad, which many people think is too small, produced this fine 35inch Red and all the Pomp's. When the Pomp's start hitting we have got it down to a fine art. Using 3 or 4 rods we harvest them using the: I sling, you wind in and you bait method.

35" Red, notice hook in corner of the mouth. Fish released unharmed but wiser. 

Well the weather was great, the fishing was as good as it gets, and it was good to spend some time with a few of the frogs that gathered around a suck out at the 37.

The Harvest. Pomps, reds and a sheep face.

On the way off the beach, we got some shots of this young lady that was waiting for us to leave so she could get back to her harvest before the winter makes it hard.

Regards Nickaway