Eventually
we fished our way around the corner and off into the distance, leaving
the others and the boat well behind. The beachscape gradually changed
and as the shallow margins became steeper and deeper, we stopped
seeing barra and instead started spotting more and more queenfish.
Probably
the last thing we needed at this stage of the trip was another queenfish!
But sight casting to big queenies with light fly tackle from the
beach is always a thrill. In fact, we didn't cast at all until we
spied a really big one and if a smaller fish got in on the act and
the fly wasn't out of the way fast enough……well, call
it practice, but it's darned good fun!
On
average, the queenfish in this steeper beach area seemed far bigger
than the shallow-water fish. The now familiar rumblings of a lunchtime
monsoonal storm were sounding in the distance, but Simon and I were
more than happy to fish on.
Soon
we could smell the rain that was coming, and a refreshing light
breeze (thankfully at our backs) started to puff. The queenfish
activity was increasing in tempo with the intensity of the storm.
Small schools of bait were being compressed and then lunched on
by queenies just a short throw from the shore. As the wind began
to gust and large raindrops plopped onto the dry white sand and
into the warm salty water, the feeding fish became more aggressive
and soon "balls" of baitfish were showering into the air
every few seconds.
Casting
from the beach
Engrossed
in this increasingly dramatic scene, Simon and I also began to cast
at these fish more aggressively. As one of us hooked a fleeting
queenfish, the other would leapfrog further up the beach and enter
into the next melee. The rain got harder, the fish more bold and
in our own particular hunting frenzy the fish size became immaterial.
Every showering bait school was covered with a fly before moving
to the next sign of activity.
Now
the rain was teeming. Soaking wet, we started jogging between casts,
shooting line while still running toward the sighted fish. The wind
had vanished and punishing rain totally flattened the sea except
for the bait schools which now stood out like beacons. Cast, hook
a fish - if it was small, haul it in as quickly as possible before
releasing it and running to the next bait school.
Many
fisherman take
to the beaches
A bigger
fish was a different story. We would be dancing from foot to foot
to avoid treading on the shooting line as it jumped up through the
stripper guide, and in seconds the fish would be leaping around
with fifty metres of line in the water behind it! Even with heavy
tippets they could take several minutes to land, and our 6 and 7
weight rods were getting a real workout.
It
was about then that the distant rumbling thunder was not quite so
distant. "I don't think this is a very wise idea!" I yelled
to Simon, but as the lightning still seemed a few miles away we
continued to fish, albeit with constant glances over our shoulders
at the angry dark sky. I realised I was subconsciously casting side
arm.
I hooked
another nice queenfish from less than twenty feet off the rod tip
and allowed it to clear the loose line around my feet, although
it still hadn't really twigged to being hooked. Suddenly a bolt
of lightning cracked down somewhere behind the trees at our backs
with an accompanying flash of white light and a chock wave that
was transmitted through the sand and up into our feet. I jumped
like a startled rabbit and took off up the hill as the fish headed
in the opposite direction.
I found
myself in the novel situation of fighting a pelagic fish from under
the cover of a tree some thirty metres up the bank! I actually had
to keep my rod tip down to avoid tangling with the branches. My
line stretched across grass, then sand to the water and then some
30 metres further out to a jumping queenfish. Welcome to saltwater
fly-fishing - monsoon style!
A
lovely catch
In
many ways, beach fly-fishing Cape York style is still in its infancy
and there were plenty of surprises in store for us. For me, one
of those was capturing a pair of tripletails on fly. This happened
during a berserk bite when everyone was madly casting at barra,
salmon and queenfish. While polaroiding, I was confronted by two
fish swimming right at me that looked too dark for barra but too
fishy for catfish, and definitely worth covering. A quick cast saw
both fish respond to my small "Bongo" fly, with the bigger
and darker of the two in the lead.
It
repeatedly turned on its side to eat the offering, and I teased
it with a slow, jerky retrieve before letting it eat the fly. By
that stage it was so close I could clearly identify it. The fight
could best be described as a short but torrid affair. The fish pulled
perhaps 20 metres of line out, made two quick jumps and went through
a lot of bottom grubbing before I was able to grab it. They are
like big, saltwater versions of the "oscars" often seen
in aquariums, and they appear to have an equally mean disposition.
Their tooth-lined jaws are particularly strong.
David
Roche was nearby and after a couple of photos I sent it on its way.
After continuing on perhaps only 40 metres further I spotted its
mate, and upon casting to it, I experienced an exact, if somewhat
shorter, re-enactment of the previous encounter, much in proportion
to the smaller size of this fish. If those two found each other
again they could certainly compare notes!
The
most lively session we had on the beach was undoubtedly the "salmon
run". On our last morning of beach fishing we explored some
new ground, and ran head-on into schools of threadfin salmon ranging
in number from perhaps a dozen fish to fifty or so. These one to
two kilo fish were swimming in only a metre or two of water and
travelling parallel to the beach, always in one direction and never
any more than about five metres from shore! They came past in wave
after wave, and there must have been thousands of them in total.
They were in a bit of a hurry and perhaps this had something to
do with the fact that they had already padded four other animated
anglers before reaching me!
It
was a torrid session in anyone's language but, for me, one particular
method worked best to consistently hook them. The trick was to wait
for a school to approach without having the fly in the water at
all (it may be too far out or, worse, a queenfish could grab it),
then to cast ahead of the school and allow the fly and leader to
sink to the bottom.
As
soon as the fly was underneath the school (it mattered little if
it was the lead fish, middle, or end fish) a short sharp retrieve
would see a few fish peel off and follow the fly until one would
push forward and snatch it. Sometimes this extra excitement had
the effect of almost panicking the school and as the other fish
sped up, those chasing the fly would strike fast and turn back to
the school. The end result on many occasions was pulled hooks from
short-striking fish, but at least if the hook pulled quickly it
would allow a presentation to the next school!
A late
cast would result in the school parting and swimming around the
sinking line or leader which invariably spooked them. The ideal
cast was undoubtedly the early one, to target the leaders of the
school. As I said, it was a torrid session!
Barramundi
always seem to be the glamour fish of any tropical environment and
on the beaches of western Cape York it is no different. Sight casting
to barra remains a highlight and in this clean water, fine sand
environment, the first and sometimes only visible presence of a
barra was that yellow paddle tail and a shadow. That is, unless
the fish were in beach patrol mode, when they would swim right in
amongst the small beach break, only a metre or two from dry sand,
usually with backs washing in and out of the water, and no doubt
their bellies bouncing along the bottom. I always found this an
amazing and welcome sight, as in this situation they rarely refused
a fly.
Other
times, when the water was calmer, the barra were not quite so bold
and would form loose schools in deeper water up to ten metres of
so off the beach.
Barramundi
- The glamour fish of the Tropics
One
section of beach consisted of lagoon formations which filled and
emptied completely with the tide. Here we had an incredible session
with a school of barra that was positioned at the mouth of a lagoon
system, apparently waiting for enough water to allow them in and
thus on to the baitfish which had already taken refuge inside. There
were perhaps one or two dozen barra in this school, ranging from
a kilo up to about three kilos. All of them were great fun on our
light rods, and I think we hooked just about all of them at one
stage or another!
They
would switch on and off without warning, producing flurries of activity
interspersed with periods of half-hearted plunks from rolling fish.
We fully expected them to spook and disperse at any time, but they
never really did. Occasionally they would scatter but turn up nearby
again and respond to a good presentation or a slightly different
fly. We had double hook-ups, crossed lines and barra jumping every
which way, tossing water and flies back at us from close quarters.
It was a definite test of dedication to put down the rod and pick
up the camera!
Other
fish may be bigger, stronger, faster, or jump higher than a barramundi
but there is no doubting the magic of these silver fish. They could
show up anywhere and at any time.
At
one spot a large tree lay on the beach, high and dry at low tide.
It was during another midday downpour that Simon and I were heading
back to the mother chip Capricorn Mist in our skiff, when we noticed
the tree was now well immersed at this higher stage of the tide.
We looked at each other and with that "just one more barra"
smile on our faces we spun around and went back for a closer look.
We
cast to the outer branches first, which were lying in the deeper
water, but the only response was from small queenfish. When we moved
to the trunk however, it was a different story. My first cast returned
into view with a bunch of yellow tails and orange eyes flashing
around it like moths at a flame. Soon we were both hooked up to
acrobatic little barramundi. The only trouble was that although
these were beach barra, they still knew how to use a snag to their
advantage and even the smaller fish were able to get back to timber
quite easily. At one stage I hooked a barra on our side of the log,
only to have it peel off some line, dive under it and start jumping
on the other side! Another one totally knitted my line around a
branch. But both fish were eventually landed after some assistance
with boat work, and Simon even jumped into waist deep water to free
the second.
Barra
on the beaches was definitely the main reason for my trip to Cape
York to fish with Greg Bethune's Carpentaria Seafaris set-up. I
had seen Bushy doing it on television, read about it, and heard
about it, and now I had enjoyed it first hand. Beach fishing anywhere
else will never be the same!
There
are still plenty of surprises in store for those who fly-fish the
beaches of Cape York. Even the seasonal fluctuations of species
are still being sorted out. At some times of the year, the barra
or queenfish we enjoyed may be absent but something else is sure
to be "on" in their place. Other species that have been
caught on fly since our visit include golden trevally to 8 kg, permit
to 9 kg and giant herring to 5 kg! Many of these fish were caught
while casting from the beaches.
Let
me back there!
Why
wouldn't I
want to return?
Cape
York is one of those great locations which lends itself exceptionally
well to fly fishing. It is, however, a remote area and travel from
one place to another is difficult at the best of times. This is
where Carpentaria Seafaris comes into play. Greg and Jennie Bethune
have this wilderness area wired when it comes to fishing trips,
and the Capricorn Mist, their comfortable and trustworthy mother
ship, transports anglers from hotspot to hotspot reliably and safely.
I was
particularly impressed with Greg's customised skiffs which make
ideal fly fishing platforms whether fishing the reefs, rivers, or
running the beaches. These travel in tow behind the Capricorn Mist
like faithful hounds.
There
are many fly fishing options at the Cape, but the beauty of fishing
the beaches is that most trout-fishing tackle will do the job. We
used light rods most of the time, with 6/7 outfits proving most
popular, but a 6-weight and 9-weight will cover most options. Reels
don't need to be particularly fancy for these line weights although
the #9 size should incorporate a decent drag. Keep in mind that
this is a harsh saltwater environment.
Lines
should be weight forward styles and we preferred Monocore lines
in most situations. They definitely are less obvious to the fish
and their slow sinking rate makes them fairly versatile. Our leaders
were simple, and easy to retie on location. We used 6 - 10 kg tippets
with short mono shock-tippets of 15 - 24 kg.
As
far as flies for beach fishing go, Bushy's Bongo stands head and
shoulders above the rest. These "Whistler" style flies
represent crustaceans and were irresistible to most fish, especially
barra and salmon. Some variations were successful, and these incorporated
lead eyes for faster sinking, and brightly coloured hackles. Deceivers
were great for most other situations, especially for queenfish,
which were very abundant. Small Pink Things were handy in the rivers
for barra, and small Clouser Minnows with lead eyes were great for
tarpon and tuna.
Conditions
on the beaches were quite pleasant, although still very tropical.
Basically this means it gets very hot during the day and you'll
need plenty of protection against the sun. It is the type of place
where specialist clothing comes into its own, and you'll need combinations
of shirts (both long and short sleeve), shorts and trousers. Good
hats and sunglasses are essential.
Footwear
is also important as the sand is hot during the middle of the day
and the feet can take a hammering if they normally spend all week
in shoes and socks. Lightweight rubber booties are best as they
have no laces or buckles to snare fly-line as you wonder the beaches
dragging shooting line behind.
Bugs
don't seem to be much of a problem in this area, though I always
carry some repellent in my travel bag.
We
fished late in the season and had favourable tides and conditions
for the beaches. In any case the sun will always be at your back
in the morning and the wind (if any) is the same, which makes for
ideal polaroiding.
Of
course, there are plenty of other options such as river, reef and
pelagic flyfishing available. Greg Bethune talks fly fishing and
finer details regarding tackle and flies can be sorted out well
before taking the trip.
