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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