EARLY Summer and it’s hot, finally. It’s the middle of the day, not as productive as first and last light, but the walk alone will be worth it.
Col and myself wander along this stream again. I guess we have walked many kilometres along here together, fishing over the years. The first time Col has walked here since his heart attack. He was unsure whether he should or not. I convinced him it would do him good.
Age has wearied us and the years condemned but what a great day to be out in the bush. I stop the old Gutlux in the shade of the She Oaks and start to set up. I then realise I have left my boots back at the house so it will be a day dodging snakes, prickly and tiger pear, in thongs… again.
Col is set up already and within a minute of arrival he is hooked up to a carp. He has a huge smile on his face; it’s doing him good already .
The carp are not super active but they fall to our flies regularly enough to keep it interesting. We leave a scattered trail along the bank and already eagles and hawks hover and goannas are on the prowl.
Col opts to just fish for carp not wanting to stress the heart too much. We finally reach the big hole. It’s deep and clear and light penetrates all the way to the depths. The bottom is lost to the deep green.
I opt for a full, quick sink line with a Game Changer, aptly named. The cod should be hidden under the rocks and in the shade of the boulders. We haven’t seen any free swimming cod, only dozens and dozens of carp .
The line sinks super quick and lies along the bottom. The stripping of the Game Changer gives it a realistic life like appearance. It comes up over boulders and then drops back into the depths. Cast after cast, the heavy sink line is a bitch to cast but it’s doing the exact job it’s meant to, bringing the fly back hard against the bottom .
It’s mesmerising, watching this multi-section fly appear from the depths, the hair and fibre pulsing with each strip.
It’s not a matter of if, but when and how many casts.
The fly appeared again from the depths hard against an in-stream boulder. I paused and it stops, suspends briefly before it twitches momentarily and then it begins its descent .
In an instant a green head appears and a mouth opens and engulfs the fly. An implosion feeder. A strip strike and the fly holds tight. The Vision Native Series Fly Rod has its measure. No need to lift the fish out of the water on this warm day. The hook is barbless so its a easy matter of slipping the hook out and Maccullochella peelii peels off back to the depths to sulk in the shade of the boulder .
A move to another rock outcrop and some shady boulders at depth. The line sinks quick and the dredging along the bottom begins. The fly is starting its ascent from the depths when a wedge tail glides above.
I look up at the wedgy and strip while not looking at the water and I get jolted back to reality. Another cod has taken the fly while I was gazing at the heavens. I have pulled the fly free of its mouth but I did get to see it. A pressure boil erupts the surface as he bolts back into the depths.
Many casts later and several changes of fly its evident that fish is not coming back today .
Time to switch back over to a carp fly and wend our way back. Adding to the carp feast along the bank that have already had their eyes removed and ants are busy devouring. Dodgy knees and dicky hearts make for a slow return with quite a few rest breaks and the occasional carp.
Finally we make it back to the Gutlux, both pretty busted. You wouldn’t be dead for quids!
