Jack murphy fishing and photography gas 66


There’s a rumour doing the rounds. It’s about an aluminium hull that has the big boys looking over their shoulder. They say it rides like a glass boat, looks like a glass boat, but can take punishment like a tinnie. "Interesting", thought Jack who likes punishing things. It doesn’t have a name like Outlaw, Bandit or Renegade, which suggests you’re about to battle 1000 wart-faced Orcs with a wooden crossbow. It’s called Morningstar and it’s built in Taiwan. But don’t let the name or origin mislead you. This thing is a highly stealthy weapon.

Jack and I had heard the rumours. So we marched down to the local dealer and demanded a test run. Where would you take a 4.6m centre console tinnie powered with a 60HP outboard? To the continental shelf, naturally. types of electricity generation So we packed the 30 and 50 wides, some waterproof gear, a whole cooked chicken, some deep diving lures, gaffs, and some more waterproof gear. And a mask and snorkel to stay dry – above the waterline. That’s the done thing when you go the shelf in a little console tinnie, isn’t it?

There were surprised looking faces at the shelf, peering over their wave-breakers. “What’s a tinnie doing out here?” They weren’t as surprised as Jack, who declared all the rumours true. v gashi kenga e zagrebit The ride was special. Every bit the performance of a glass boat – a good glass boat. Soft as a duck feather pillow, clang-free and dry. I wore Ugg boots all day and they didn’t soak in a drop of salt-water. No mask and snorkel required…

Bluefin grow to 170kg, but it’s not size they’re renowned for, rather a reputation as a world-class table fish, with sashimi the dish of choice. The biggest tuna I’d ever seen in the flesh was about 30kg, but I’d seen photos of 100kg-plus fish – something my imagination couldn’t reconcile. We’d heard fish that size had recently been caught in the area, but it appeared the weather gods cared not for our optimism. Five-metre seas, 35-knot winds and snow above 300m greeted us. Not exactly the stuff of idyllic days on the high seas.

But nonetheless our steeds awaited us at the ramp; two spectacular White Pointer boats – shrouded in armour of silver and grey – lances at the ready. One was a 730 Sports Hardtop named Cray Nomad, while its older brother, a big, beautiful 800 Sports Cruiser, was affectionately dubbed Lie-ability. Aboard the 730, a gentle and wise old salt called Barry murmured softly through cold, thin lips. “Big tuna love this sordid weather”, he assured us. Our spirits were filled.

After 15 minutes, I was the only one with a fish still connected. electricity deregulation One had pulled the hooks; the other was ‘sealed’. I battled on for another 45 minutes, dropping to my knees in submission several times. The fish neared the boat, a big southern bluefin. A single seal then appeared, quickly diving down to inspect my trophy. The tuna ran hard with his (and our) adversary in hot pursuit. Although no one saw the deep-water battle between tuna and beast, the imagination paints pictures of a mythical kraken versus sperm whale tussle.

In an attempt to salvage my prize, I cranked the last 100m of line back onto the tired TLD 50. The last few slithers of adrenaline fueled my shaking arms and throbbing lower back. When the barrel bobbed up boat side the seal attacked again, ambitiously snapping at its tail and belly with almost canine barks between breaths. The crew jumped to action like a SWAT team, grabbing the leader and sinking the gaffs before hauling the oversized tuna onboard. physical science electricity review worksheet I collapsed, exhausted and ecstatic.

It’s the failures in fishing that make the triumphs even better. When it comes to gamefishing, I’ve certainly had my fair share of failures – long fishless days in horrible conditions usually have me come home thinking: I wish I’d just gone bream fishing instead. However, what unfolded yesterday pushed all those failures into a distant memory and made success so, so much sweeter – but I’ll start from the beginning…

With my Jack’s Lap Stabicraft in Sydney over Christmas I was keen to see how the little red rocket performed on my home turf. Without outriggers, gamefishing was going to be tricky, but the predicted conditions just looked too damn good to stay inshore. So a quick phone around and I had some awesome intel about where the fish were. I flicked a text to good mate and gamefishing tragic, Les Fox and told him we were chasing marlin. Although most of those before mentioned gamefishing “failures” have been with Les, he still excitably agreed and a day later we were cruising east out of Broken Bay in the Stabi.

After catching and releasing more kingys than we could handle, we threw the lures back out and kept trolling. Les decided he wanted to add a fourth lure to our spread and picked out a tiny little Pakula Fluzi (a lure which looked more suitable for a big trout or an Aussie salmon than a marlin). He clipped it onto a spinning outfit and set it a couple of hundred metres back behind the spread. To punish him for putting out such a silly looking lure, I decided to drive past all the fish traps I could find, which in turn would result in a little mahi mahi grabbing his tiny lure every time. After reeling in more mahi mahi than one man can bear, he cursed me as I drove past another trap. On cue, the rod buckled, but this time it took a lot more line than usual and Les struggled to actually get it out of the rod holder. A black marlin of around 60kg then appeared 400 metres behind the boat shaking it’s head in anger with that tiny little Fluzi hanging out of its mouth – well I’ll be damned!

Only on light line and tail wrapped for half the fight, Les fought the stubborn black for about 45 minutes until we grabbed the leader and set him free. e seva power bill payment After the obligatory high fives and a quick team debrief, Les got us back on the troll while I set the lines. First things first, I put the little Fluzi straight back out to the shotgun position. Next, I fed out a Pakula Phantom on the long corner, and a few seconds after I clicked the 30W reel into gear another 60kg black marlin came flying out of the water with the Phantom skirt helicoptering into the air! The amount of celebratory screaming and terrified laughter that came next is something that I think people fishing a few miles away could’ve heard (thank God I had my pants back on). Come to think about it, I must’ve been feeding that lure straight back into the fishes mouth! By far the most actively aerial marlin I’ve ever seen, this fish would’ve jumped over 30 times before he finally came to the boat – without a doubt, it was the best fight I’ve ever had. Actually, the best bloody day I’ve ever had – exhilarating!

There’s no way a fisho can travel halfway around the world and not sample the local waters at the other end. electricity recruitment 2015 So on my recent trip to the States, myself and a few other chaps from the Aussie media headed out on a local fishing charter. With five keen anglers, two boats at our disposal and a hefty wager of $50 USD up for grabs – things were going to get serious…

When I first heard we’d be fishing for salmon out on a lake I was a little disappointed. I assumed we’d be out on a dinky ol’ boat, trolling lures in a paddock-sized waterway for smelly stocked fish – but boy was I wrong. We were actually fishing on the mighty Lake Michigan – one of North America’s five Great Lakes. This thing’s no joke either; it has a surface area of 58,000 square kilometres and is around 300 metres at its deepest point! So it was no surprise that when we rocked up at the marina a fleet of gameboats sitting shoulder to shoulder greeted us. With more outriggers, downriggers and other fishing paraphernalia than I dared to count – I was starting to get a bit excited for this whole salmon fishing thing.

When it comes to the gear, light 1-4kg rods, small 2000 sized reels and sensitive 1-4kg braid is a must. Not to mention, the light tackle makes the fight even better. But hold your horses, the most important part of the setup is what you tie onto the end of that braid – this is what the fish is going to see. Light, good quality fluoro-carbo leaders are definitely the name of the game as bream can be particularly spooky. I’ll fish with anything from 2kg to 6kg leader, depending on how dense the structure is and how finicky the fish are.

So you’ve got your live bait rigged up, your dead bait on the hook or your lure tied on – what next? Personally, I’ll fish a live bait and a lure in very similar locations. Lightly weighted, or with no weight at all, I’ll cast either the lure or livey in close to structure and let it slowly sink down. Sometimes you’ll even see the fish rise up and nab your offering from the surface. However, when it comes to fishing dead bait, a small floater rig drifted down a burley stream is as close to a guaranteed bream as you’ll get. Finally, how many fish did you count in the image above? There are six bream and two blackfish!