Hello there,
This year the 2009 Wivenhoe Kayak and Canoe Fishing Convention is being held again and I will be attending for the first time when it begins this weekend.
The Convention is a social event which includes two competition sessions; a show and shine exhibition where entrants can show off their craft to the crowd and social BBQ's.
The weekend has a small entry fee of $50 and camping is located at Logan's Inlet (at the dam).
Information can be found here on the Sweetwater Fishing and the official convention homepage here.
Wivenhoe is a renowned fishery with many Australian Bass being often caught up to a reported 60cm and also stocked with species such as yellowbelly (Golden Perch), Saratoga, Spangled Perch, Fork-Tailed Catfish, Snub-Nosed Gar, Silver Perch and the Mary River Cod. Though introduced species like tilapia, banded grunter and Redclaw Crayfish also make their home in the lake.
Hopefully Ill be able to get onto some of these fish.
Till next time>>>
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Fishing Toonumbar Dam
It was the 25th August, when after a quick stop at the local tackle store to raid the bargain bin and some of those productive lures, we (John, Ryan and I) hit the road at about 10am with a boat full of various fishing, camping and other “weekend away” paraphernalia. Our destination was Toonumbar Dam, some 30km North-West of Kyogle.
Anticipation was high as John (who had been there before) and I discussed how to best fish the dam thoroughly. Ryan keenly listening as this was his first trip to Toonumbar and a stocked impoundment.
The 1 ½ hours drive in to the dam from Kyogle was pretty ordinary until we hit the trail leading from the dam wall to the camping area. This section is renowned as being a bit bumpy and as the recent rains had washed out parts of the road making the journey with a somewhat low trailer all the more tedious.
As we arrived at the camp ground, we readied our rods and the boat for the two days of fishing that lay ahead of us. Launching the boat at 1pm we set off for a spot that would be out of the strong North-Westerly wind that created some largish chop on the exposed areas of water.
The first of these spots proved fruitful as my second cast had me hooked up to a feisty 32cm bass, which was carefully released to provide sport for other future anglers. The lure that caused the damage was a 3in smelt Berkley gulp.
IMAGE
Using nearly all the lures in our tackle boxes we decided to move further upstream, fishing the small bays and inlets that provided some protection from the wind but to no avail.
3 hours later and we had moved up to the headwaters of the dam and utilizing the sounder I was able to track the old creek bed as John and Ryan trolled some hardbody (a Halco poltergeist and a lipless jig respectively) lures behind the boat. This area holds extensive weed beds and in previous trips has resulted in large fish jigged with soft plastics.
After trolling for 1km Ryan hooked up and landed his first impoundment fish, a 26cm bass with a deformed mouth. Shortly after John landed a small 20cm specimen casting his 3m Halco Poltergeist in amongst the weeds beds. This area seemed to be the more productive location, as John and I lost a fish each.
A short troll again to find some more fish and we moved on the downstream half of the dam where John and Ryan were using surface lures like Halco Nightcrawlers and Rapala Skitterpops as dusk became apparent. John lure received a spectacular strike on a Jitterbug, which saw me diving for cover as his lure flung back at my head.
This left Ryan and John with a surge of determination to hook the fish, so more than 20 casts were made though the same spot, but no repeat of the action. It also prompted me to change over from a jig to a surface lure, something I have never used in Toonumbar as I believe it isn’t a productive method of catching fish there. This was wise, as Johns lure got smashed again which resulted in a hook-up, but the fish came off right next to the boat.
By now the wind had said its goodbyes and the entire dam was fishable, but as luck would have it darkness fell and we didn’t have a torch. Navigating back to the ramp and jetty by the ambient light from the visibly minimal moon we tied up the boat and trudged defiantly back to the camp site and to prepare our evening meal of Apricot chicken and rice: gourmet camping or what!
While dinner cooked under the coal in a camp oven, we strolled down to the boat ramp and started our lame attempts at trying to collect some shrimp for bait as this is a go-to bait and method we (my father and I) have used very successfully at the dam.
With a few shrimp in the bucket and a trap set out in the water, we decided to check the food and come back later when the shrimp were more active.
Finalising our sleeping arrangements in the tent, it became nippy as we began to tuck into our meal. Sitting around the fire eating our luxurious meal (luxurious in comparison to my staple noodles and bacon and eggs) we chatted about our success and failures, the plans for the next day, fishing in general and contemplating life’s little mysteries.
The resident possums and pademelons ran around rustling through the bushes and trees, and even a very inquisitive bandicoot hopping right up to us and sitting next to my foot!
A restless night lay ahead, as the bandicoots raided our pots and pans and certain people (Ryan…) kept kicking me in the head.
Waking at the late time of 5:30am to some tea, we fell into the boat and began fishing the still surface of the rock walls that surround much of the dam, with no success (my guess it was too cold with and average water temp of 19°C.
As my shrimp kicked around on a light jighead, it got nailed by a very nice looking silver bass of 27cm.
Moving to the sunny sides of the banks, we cast diving lures, jigs, soft plastics, and the shrimp but again no success.
We retuned to the camp site for some breakfast, which courtesy of the fire was bacon and eggs. As they cooked I decided to explore the creek adjacent to the camp area. Walking more than 2km through and even over massive boulders, I noticed that there were several sets of human footprints in the sandy banks of the creek indicating that I wasn’t the only one to be interested in the creeks route. This creek looks straight out of a movie, as water cascades over moss, birds-nest fern, staghorn and native orchid covered boulders into crystal clear pools.
By the time I returned our meal had been cooked, and after its completion we packed up camp and went for another fish; this time to venture into the unknown of the very upper limit of the dam but not before I showed the guys the dam wall from the water.
This lead us to fish a deep (13m), shaded spot against the bank where John got a massive snag in a overhanging tree which required him and I to jump ashore and pull it out. But we left Ryan on the boat, which he used to his advantage landing a huge eel tailed catfish which weighed about 1.5 kilos. This was caught on my rod and shrimp, which was lying in the boat waiting for Ryan to use.
Reaching the upper limits of the dam itself, we motored slowly into the main creek that feeds into Toonumbar, which is Iron Pot Creek. Exhausting ourselves with casts, we received no fish or hits, so we decided to pull the plug and head back to the ramp and go home.
On the return journey we passed a monitor (goanna) trying to swim across the dam, which we came back to photograph it, but John had other ideas, grabbing it by the head firmly to give us a better look. All the while I’m telling him that he “dare not drop the thing in the boat” as precious rods lay everywhere and human flesh within easy reach. Noticing the reptile was physically exhausted from its marathon swim of an estimated kilometre (halfway across the dam), we chose to take him to the bank and chuck it onto dry land.
Leaving the monitor behind, we continued to the ramp, where we packed the boat, fishing gear and car at around 1:30pm.
All in all it was a great trip even though the fish didn’t fire like usual, which I decided was based on the water temperature and the recent floods which may have washed a fair few fish over the wall (especially seeing the floods occurred during spawning season).
But it was worth it, a couple of days fishing with a few mates, who could ask for more. Some of the photos used were provided courtesy of Ryan and John.
Till next time>>>
Anticipation was high as John (who had been there before) and I discussed how to best fish the dam thoroughly. Ryan keenly listening as this was his first trip to Toonumbar and a stocked impoundment.
The 1 ½ hours drive in to the dam from Kyogle was pretty ordinary until we hit the trail leading from the dam wall to the camping area. This section is renowned as being a bit bumpy and as the recent rains had washed out parts of the road making the journey with a somewhat low trailer all the more tedious.
As we arrived at the camp ground, we readied our rods and the boat for the two days of fishing that lay ahead of us. Launching the boat at 1pm we set off for a spot that would be out of the strong North-Westerly wind that created some largish chop on the exposed areas of water.
The first of these spots proved fruitful as my second cast had me hooked up to a feisty 32cm bass, which was carefully released to provide sport for other future anglers. The lure that caused the damage was a 3in smelt Berkley gulp.
IMAGE
Using nearly all the lures in our tackle boxes we decided to move further upstream, fishing the small bays and inlets that provided some protection from the wind but to no avail.
3 hours later and we had moved up to the headwaters of the dam and utilizing the sounder I was able to track the old creek bed as John and Ryan trolled some hardbody (a Halco poltergeist and a lipless jig respectively) lures behind the boat. This area holds extensive weed beds and in previous trips has resulted in large fish jigged with soft plastics.
After trolling for 1km Ryan hooked up and landed his first impoundment fish, a 26cm bass with a deformed mouth. Shortly after John landed a small 20cm specimen casting his 3m Halco Poltergeist in amongst the weeds beds. This area seemed to be the more productive location, as John and I lost a fish each.
A short troll again to find some more fish and we moved on the downstream half of the dam where John and Ryan were using surface lures like Halco Nightcrawlers and Rapala Skitterpops as dusk became apparent. John lure received a spectacular strike on a Jitterbug, which saw me diving for cover as his lure flung back at my head.
This left Ryan and John with a surge of determination to hook the fish, so more than 20 casts were made though the same spot, but no repeat of the action. It also prompted me to change over from a jig to a surface lure, something I have never used in Toonumbar as I believe it isn’t a productive method of catching fish there. This was wise, as Johns lure got smashed again which resulted in a hook-up, but the fish came off right next to the boat.
By now the wind had said its goodbyes and the entire dam was fishable, but as luck would have it darkness fell and we didn’t have a torch. Navigating back to the ramp and jetty by the ambient light from the visibly minimal moon we tied up the boat and trudged defiantly back to the camp site and to prepare our evening meal of Apricot chicken and rice: gourmet camping or what!
While dinner cooked under the coal in a camp oven, we strolled down to the boat ramp and started our lame attempts at trying to collect some shrimp for bait as this is a go-to bait and method we (my father and I) have used very successfully at the dam.
With a few shrimp in the bucket and a trap set out in the water, we decided to check the food and come back later when the shrimp were more active.
Finalising our sleeping arrangements in the tent, it became nippy as we began to tuck into our meal. Sitting around the fire eating our luxurious meal (luxurious in comparison to my staple noodles and bacon and eggs) we chatted about our success and failures, the plans for the next day, fishing in general and contemplating life’s little mysteries.
The resident possums and pademelons ran around rustling through the bushes and trees, and even a very inquisitive bandicoot hopping right up to us and sitting next to my foot!
A restless night lay ahead, as the bandicoots raided our pots and pans and certain people (Ryan…) kept kicking me in the head.
Waking at the late time of 5:30am to some tea, we fell into the boat and began fishing the still surface of the rock walls that surround much of the dam, with no success (my guess it was too cold with and average water temp of 19°C.
As my shrimp kicked around on a light jighead, it got nailed by a very nice looking silver bass of 27cm.
Moving to the sunny sides of the banks, we cast diving lures, jigs, soft plastics, and the shrimp but again no success.
We retuned to the camp site for some breakfast, which courtesy of the fire was bacon and eggs. As they cooked I decided to explore the creek adjacent to the camp area. Walking more than 2km through and even over massive boulders, I noticed that there were several sets of human footprints in the sandy banks of the creek indicating that I wasn’t the only one to be interested in the creeks route. This creek looks straight out of a movie, as water cascades over moss, birds-nest fern, staghorn and native orchid covered boulders into crystal clear pools.
By the time I returned our meal had been cooked, and after its completion we packed up camp and went for another fish; this time to venture into the unknown of the very upper limit of the dam but not before I showed the guys the dam wall from the water.
This lead us to fish a deep (13m), shaded spot against the bank where John got a massive snag in a overhanging tree which required him and I to jump ashore and pull it out. But we left Ryan on the boat, which he used to his advantage landing a huge eel tailed catfish which weighed about 1.5 kilos. This was caught on my rod and shrimp, which was lying in the boat waiting for Ryan to use.
Reaching the upper limits of the dam itself, we motored slowly into the main creek that feeds into Toonumbar, which is Iron Pot Creek. Exhausting ourselves with casts, we received no fish or hits, so we decided to pull the plug and head back to the ramp and go home.
On the return journey we passed a monitor (goanna) trying to swim across the dam, which we came back to photograph it, but John had other ideas, grabbing it by the head firmly to give us a better look. All the while I’m telling him that he “dare not drop the thing in the boat” as precious rods lay everywhere and human flesh within easy reach. Noticing the reptile was physically exhausted from its marathon swim of an estimated kilometre (halfway across the dam), we chose to take him to the bank and chuck it onto dry land.
Leaving the monitor behind, we continued to the ramp, where we packed the boat, fishing gear and car at around 1:30pm.
All in all it was a great trip even though the fish didn’t fire like usual, which I decided was based on the water temperature and the recent floods which may have washed a fair few fish over the wall (especially seeing the floods occurred during spawning season).
But it was worth it, a couple of days fishing with a few mates, who could ask for more. Some of the photos used were provided courtesy of Ryan and John.
Till next time>>>
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
The bass season opens and why my next rod will be a one-piece
The 1st of September marks a special day for the wild bass anglers of NSW and QLD, it is the first day of 'open season' in which we are legally allowed to fish for Australian Bass and Estuary Perch.
Last night I began preparing for an eventful afternoon after a Uni field trip, the kayak sitting in the garage with all my bass fishing stuff in it like rods, lures, net and pliers, etc.
At 1;30pm I arrived at the Tintenbar Bridge which crosses Emigrant Creek at the tidal limit. As luck would have it, the tide was dead low and still dropping meaning I couldnt launch anywhere along the creek. So this left me with no choice but to find another spot to fish until the tide rose again.
I drove from Tintenbar all the way out past Booyong and Nashua to check my local haunts, but after seeing the access routes were still steep and narrow, the drive that had me going before had disspated.
Saddened I drove home and waited till I thought the tide had risen sufficiently, though when I arroved home Dad had finished work and wanted to go for a fish.
The location we decided was the Upper Wilson River, near Booyong and we would walk the banks casting for some bass.
We arrived at the spot we use to launch our canoe usually, and walked downstream along the newly planted riparian zone created using funds from the NSW fishing licence scheme.
My 4th cast landed across the bank from me, and with one turn of the handle the lure (a River2Sea diving hardboy) was taken by a fiesty bass which I landed and measured for 24cm.
Releasing it and continuing downstream, we had several hits on surface lures and diving hardbodies but unsuccesful in landing one.
Eventually we came across a large log that was laying across most of the stream and causing the water to rush thorugh a gap between it and the bank. This current had carved out a large hole underneath the bank and we hoped our artificial presentations would tempt a bass out of its hidey-hole.
My attempts saw me using a small metal blade lure, which became snagged on something underwater. The lure broke off as I tried to drag it out, in frustration I flicked my rod forward and in a casting motion and my rod came apart with the tip half flying off into the large hole I tried to fish.
I knew straight away it was lost forever, but in vain I took for a swim in the cool creek water and probed around in the dark undercut bank trying to grab something like a rod.
The moderate current and water temprature took there toll on me, so I valiantly accepted defeat and climbed out of the water and got dressed.
Then after I walked alongside Dad as he cast his lure/s at likely snags all the while laughing at me and my remnant half of the rod.
At around 5:30pm we had reached our 'turn around' point, where Dad hooked and lost a bass right at the bank on a black jitterbug that would have measured 35cm easily. Thos pool also was home to a platypus who made himself present every time we moved, he would cause a ruckus as he dove back underwater in fright.
This signalled the end of our trip, so we walked back to the car and drove home. I sat there stunned as I had just lost my favourite rod to the depths of the river.
Last night I began preparing for an eventful afternoon after a Uni field trip, the kayak sitting in the garage with all my bass fishing stuff in it like rods, lures, net and pliers, etc.
At 1;30pm I arrived at the Tintenbar Bridge which crosses Emigrant Creek at the tidal limit. As luck would have it, the tide was dead low and still dropping meaning I couldnt launch anywhere along the creek. So this left me with no choice but to find another spot to fish until the tide rose again.
I drove from Tintenbar all the way out past Booyong and Nashua to check my local haunts, but after seeing the access routes were still steep and narrow, the drive that had me going before had disspated.
Saddened I drove home and waited till I thought the tide had risen sufficiently, though when I arroved home Dad had finished work and wanted to go for a fish.
The location we decided was the Upper Wilson River, near Booyong and we would walk the banks casting for some bass.
We arrived at the spot we use to launch our canoe usually, and walked downstream along the newly planted riparian zone created using funds from the NSW fishing licence scheme.
My 4th cast landed across the bank from me, and with one turn of the handle the lure (a River2Sea diving hardboy) was taken by a fiesty bass which I landed and measured for 24cm.
Releasing it and continuing downstream, we had several hits on surface lures and diving hardbodies but unsuccesful in landing one.
Eventually we came across a large log that was laying across most of the stream and causing the water to rush thorugh a gap between it and the bank. This current had carved out a large hole underneath the bank and we hoped our artificial presentations would tempt a bass out of its hidey-hole.
My attempts saw me using a small metal blade lure, which became snagged on something underwater. The lure broke off as I tried to drag it out, in frustration I flicked my rod forward and in a casting motion and my rod came apart with the tip half flying off into the large hole I tried to fish.
I knew straight away it was lost forever, but in vain I took for a swim in the cool creek water and probed around in the dark undercut bank trying to grab something like a rod.
The moderate current and water temprature took there toll on me, so I valiantly accepted defeat and climbed out of the water and got dressed.
Then after I walked alongside Dad as he cast his lure/s at likely snags all the while laughing at me and my remnant half of the rod.
At around 5:30pm we had reached our 'turn around' point, where Dad hooked and lost a bass right at the bank on a black jitterbug that would have measured 35cm easily. Thos pool also was home to a platypus who made himself present every time we moved, he would cause a ruckus as he dove back underwater in fright.
This signalled the end of our trip, so we walked back to the car and drove home. I sat there stunned as I had just lost my favourite rod to the depths of the river.
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