Fishing Story

We have good weather this week, despite the forecast telling us we would have showers, I don't think we have had any at all. Lots of clear crisp days with good views of the distant hills to taunt me as I go to work each day.
Last Saturday was shaping up to be a fine day after a lot of rain in the week. I did not go to town as I normally do but opted to stay at home and do the cleaning. I received an invitation to go fishing with Pat at Scot's Point that was too good to refuse. He has told me about this mythical place where you climb down a cliff and catch huge fish.

It is at the top end of 90 mile beach and was reached by driving down Te Paki stream onto the beach. We walked round the sand and cliffs most of the way because the tide was out when we arrived. It was still a tricky walk, carrying all the gear, including a big sack of ice. My legs were wobbly by the time we arrived. It was encouraging to see another group on the way who had caught a 4 foot kingfish.

Our spot was on a narrow shelf at the mouth of a smallish bay. Big waves going past as the tide came in. A steep cliff behind. We got the burley bomb out ( groundbait of minced up fish) and I was instructed to chuck in pichard heads. Soon we could see large fish swirling through the water to snatch the offerings. What a sense of anticipation! Pat has the best tackle and I picked up some good hints on how to thread a pichard on to maximum effect. Pat had caught a trevally before I had even cast in. As is the custom in these parts the first fish went back in to Tangaroa (the god of the sea). It was not difficult to get bites, the trick was getting the fish in. trevally are reckoned to be the best fighting fish pound for pound. They don't want to be caught and will head off into the weeds, or round the corner to try and throw out the hook. It was an effort to bring in each one. I caught 3 ood sized ones and Pat got 4. The odd kahawai that we got seemed like tiddlers in comparison and they were not that small.

We called it a day when we reckoned we could carry out no more and started the walk back going straight up the cliff this time. It was a feww 100m vertical climb carrying all the gear plus all the fish. Lots of stops for breathers. It was a relief to get onto the main path at the top of the cliffs and to get back to the car.

My eggs ached hard the next day, but it was a good ache. The sort of ache that reminds you of a good experience. We distributed our catch amongst friends and had a lovely fish soup for Sunday tea.