Catching one of the toughest fish in the world is challenging in more ways than one. GREG SEETO reports on a recent adventure targeting PNG’s infamous black bass.
YOU’VE gotta love the banter at the beginning of a trip. Part truth, part fishy tale, full of anticipation and excitement. The beginning of this trip was no different, as we set out on a week-long “Papuan Coast Adventure” with Jason Yip and Kori Chan from guiding operation SportFishing PNG and seasoned “black bass trophy hunter” Nick Wheeler from Singapore. Examples of their pep talk included Jason comparing a hit from a bass being like “casting in front of a train” and Nick detailing how a scorching run literally tattooed braided line into his finger. Crazy stuff … and we were dutifully impressed.
The genesis of this amazing journey was hatched only a month before. Considering I spent 10 years of my early childhood years in PNG, I had no previous desire to go back. My family has strong roots in the country, but no amount of gentle, and not so gentle, coaxing from my wife could draw the slightest bit of interest. I’d often say, dismissingly, “the only way you’ll get me to go back there is to go fishing for black bass”.
Fast-forward a month after a series of coincidental conversations with my “cousin-in-law” and Jason’s cousin, Mark. It’s 4.30am, and my younger brother Chris and I are sitting in a 4WD heading west to the Gulf Province, a five-hour trip by car from Port Moresby.
The thing that strikes you as you head out of Port Moresby is that PNG is a very beautiful country. Green, mountainous, remote and wild. The people are warm and welcoming and their simplistic lifestyle is a world away from ours.
After arriving at the lodge, we were at the water by midday, greeted by the local villagers. Men, women, children, pigs and chickens. It was like the circus had rolled into town, and they had come from everywhere to see the star attraction – the latest group of crazy fishermen who don’t keep the fish they catch but let them go. There was much laughing and finger pointing as the local men helped launch the boats at the makeshift ramp in the riverside village.
That afternoon both Chris and Nick managed a 14-pound bass each, and Jason hooked one slightly bigger. Mixed in amongst the bass were some healthy barramundi, but none of the 40 pounders that we were all so eager to tangle with.
The Black Bass
The Papuan black bass (Lutjanus goldiei), or “orososa” as they are known locally, are on the “bucket list” of many anglers. These “mangrove jacks on steroids” have a reputation for big, bone jarring hits and dirty, powerful fighting tactics, all of which take place in tight, gnarly structure.
A territorial fish, they inhabit the brackish and freshwater reaches of rivers along the south-eastern coastline of PNG, with populations also occurring in the north and on the island of New Britain.
An opportunistic feeder, they typically inhabit tight snags which provide shelter from which to ambush their prey. A 15 to 20 pound fish will easily test an angler’s skill and gear. A 30 pounder will bring that same angler to his knees, and a 40 pounder is generally regarded as a trophy fish. Many aspire to catching a black bass, but very few actually do. Pound for pound, these fish are often revered as the toughest freshwater fish on the planet.
The Trophy Hunter
We were lucky to have Nick Wheeler with us on this trip. Nick had travelled to PNG on three previous occasions to chase this mysterious and elusive fish. On his first trip to the Gulf two years earlier, Nick went home licking his wounds after achieving the dreaded “doughnut”. The score from that trip was black bass – six, Nick – zero. Over successive trips though, Nick had systematically adapted both his fishing style and gear to improve the hookup/catch rate ratio. His personal best fish to date was a 30 pounder, and his single-minded ambition is to land a 40lb bass.
This trip, Nick settled on using 100lb jigging braid and leaders up to 300lb made from Kevlar. His rods resembled broomsticks, yet he still managed to lose several fish that broke his mainlines and, incredibly, the Kevlar leader as they rampaged through the sunken snags after hookup.
Unfortunately Nick didn’t land his 40-pounder this trip, but I’ve no doubt that he’ll be back …
Thousand casts
On arrival, Jason informed us that there had been a lot of unexpected rain in the Gulf region. The village where we were heading had been underwater only two weeks before and, as a result, the rivers were running dirty. “Be prepared to work hard for the fish” was his advice.
After that first afternoon on the water, when we witnessed Nick and Chris land bass from tight amongst the snags, as well as barra and mangrove jack, we were thinking that landing some larger specimens was going to be easy.
How wrong we were. We had some mammoth hits that instantly pulled line on locked up drags, and were made to look outright amateurish by other fish that had us back in the snags before we realised what was happening.
Black bass are challenging fish. A fish of a thousand casts perhaps or maybe even 5000. They are temperamental to the conditions, and we spent the next four days without a bass. Six am to 6pm each day, casting, with intense concentration, trying to crack a pattern. The conditions weren’t ideal, and the bites were few and far between.
Although Chris and I could have increased our chances by trolling or live baiting, we were intent on catching bass by casting lures at the snags, an active technique that we both find challenging and rewarding.
By-Catch
Although the bass were slow, the by-catch was insane! We caught a smorgasbord of species in these pristine rivers. Jacks, fingermark, trevally and giant gourami (an introduced Asian species). We also managed some massive barramundi. Over a two-day period, Nick caught a 62-pound barra, Chris, one of the local guides, landed a 55-pound specimen, and my first ever barra was 99cm – not a bad personal best to set for my first.
Later in the season, these rivers also get a good influx of giant trevally, with fish to 55 pound having been taken on previous trips.
Black Bass Gear
Although accustomed to fighting fish in tight structure, neither Chris nor I had used a baitcast outfit before. We had two outfits each. A Daiwa TMX-G 601H baitcast rod matched to a Z2020H or TD Pluton reel, and Daiwa Steez STZ 701 HFS-DA “Hot Dog” and Exist 3000. The heaviest braid we had was 50lb on the Z2020, and we maxed out at 120lb leaders.
I’m not sure how this baitcast outfit would cope with a 40lb rampaging bass. When compared to Nick’s arsenal of gear, Chris and I felt distinctly under-gunned! Despite this, our comparatively lightweight combo, employed with some finesse fish fighting techniques, didn’t let us down. It was comfortable to cast for long hours on the water with minimal fatigue.
Although brawn is probably more appropriate when choosing a rod to chase black bass, the fast action of the Daiwa blank loaded quickly into a powerful butt section that easily accounted for barramundi up to 99cm, and landed Chris a very healthy 22lb black bass out of the snags.
The advanced braking system of the reels was perfect for a couple of novice baitcast users like us and the 6kg of drag was more than adequate to handle the big barra, yet smooth enough when tussling with black bass.
Lures & Terminals
To tempt these fish, we took a good range of 120-200mm lures. We had a mix of surface poppers and stickbaits to 30-foot divers and everything in between. It became clear very quickly that lure choice was going to be critical.
Only the strongest lures, where the hook mounts and tow points were internally wired through the body, would stand up to the pressures of fishing for black bass. In addition, we upgraded all of the trebles to 4-6X strength hooks, and split rings to minimum 100lb. Even then, we had our fair share of straightened hooks and “mangled” lures.
Our most used lures for the trip were the Halco Laser Pro Crazy Deep (7m +), Rapala X-Rap Magnum 20 and 30s, the Halco Roosta Popper 190, and a Maria Loaded floating stickbait. The Classic Barra 120 10+ accounted for my big barra, and 130mm Squidgy Slick Rigs (with terminal hardware upgrades), were also quite successful.
Culture
One of the highlights of the trip for both Chris and I was the cultural experience. When treated with respect, the local village people, who are the natural custodians of the river, are both friendly and generous. Their existence is simple – they are completely dependent on the river for food and transport and they would often trade coconuts with us in return for small fish.
On our second day, when the fishing was slow during the middle of the day, we were treated to an impromptu lunch with some of these locals. Following a demonstration of how they harvest and make sago bread from the local sago trees, they unselfishly shared a meal of salted/smoked barramundi that we’d caught and given them only the day before.
In return, we made sure we took a good supply of lollies and stickers for the children, as well as cigarettes, hats and t-shirts as gifts for the others.
SportFishing PNG uses local guides on its charters, and this is a major drawcard for the business. It was a privilege to spend time on the water with these guides, who, with their keen sense of humour and commitment to their clients, were more than willing to share their knowledge and experience in catching these elusive fish.
Perseverance pays
Our last day of fishing was spent closer to Port Moresby at Galley Reach. Although still not ideal, the conditions had improved, the river was clearing, and Jason was confident that we’d get into some bass.
We threw surface lures all day, Chris with a floating stickbait, while I was throwing a Halco Roosta popper. The morning was tough going, though I did manage to raise a couple of fish on the popper.
All of a sudden, as I was working the popper close to a floating snag, there was a huge explosion on the surface, and the popper disappeared in the white water. The fish easily stripped drag off the locked up Z2020, something my metre-barra was unable to do. I had my thumb firmly planted on the spool in an attempt to slow it down. Eventually, I got the fish under control, and Jason netted my first Papuan black bass, a 14 pounder, after six hard days of fishing. Having worked so hard for that fish made it one of my most rewarding captures.
Fifteen minutes later, Chris pulled another bass off a nearby snag on the floating stickbait. Nearly twice the size of mine at 22 pound, it was a seriously explosive, frantic battle, half of which was spent on his backside, with feet planted firmly against the gunwale.
At one point, the fish had him well and truly in the snag, but some good teamwork and quick thinking to employ some finesse tactics that we often use on bream, saw Chris “freespool” the reel. Changing the angle on the fish and towing it out of the danger zone, gave him the advantage required to guide it into the net. I can only image how dirty a 40 pounder would fight!
Then, it all went quiet again. You really couldn’t have scripted it better. As a guide, Jason did his job and got us both onto bass, but he managed to build the anticipation, which came to a head on that final afternoon.
Chris and I are already planning our next trip to PNG. I can see that we’ll soon join the group of die-hard “trophy hunters” who make the return trip to PNG every year in search of that 40 pounder!
FISHING PNG
SPORTFISHING PNG runs charters out of Port Moresby that cater for all levels of experience. The charters range from day trips to week-long adventures that include camping in remote riverside villages and fishing in pristine untouched waters.
The best time of the year to visit Jason and Kori is during the dry season, between July and November, and I highly recommend spending at least four days to get the most out of the fishing.
For more information go online to:
www.sportfishingpng.net
