Well, folks, as I am want to say, "we are back on the air!" After three weeks in the blogging wilderness, I thought it time to re-gird my literary loins.
Our stay in Albany is drawing to a close and the plan to spend the majority of the summer here to avoid the heat and noise of Perth has been highly successful, particularly so as I write.....Perth is about to head into two days of high 30 degree heat....Albany's forecast....a mild low 20's. Mind you, as I have previously mentioned, the downside has been very few fine and sunny days and plenty of wind, but those few hot days did reinforce why we were here as opposed to sweltering in the State capital.
Our stay in Albany is drawing to a close and the plan to spend the majority of the summer here to avoid the heat and noise of Perth has been highly successful, particularly so as I write.....Perth is about to head into two days of high 30 degree heat....Albany's forecast....a mild low 20's. Mind you, as I have previously mentioned, the downside has been very few fine and sunny days and plenty of wind, but those few hot days did reinforce why we were here as opposed to sweltering in the State capital.
It has been interesting to say the least to actually drop anchor for this extended period, and to settle into a routine which has been akin to a 'normal' suburban lifestyle, particularly so during the seven weeks during which Liz was working at the local hospital. Oddly, it has all had a different feel to it compared to our only other long stay, our four month stint in Carnarvon. I suspect this is quite possibly due to the fact that Liz and I have not been working together here, and I think it is fair to say that, despite my efforts, the fact that Liz worked right across it meant that this Festive Season did bring with it a real sense of dislocation.
But I have to say there are some decided advantages in being settled for some time. We are so well set up and locked down that the vagaries of the weather are something to be ignored. We know where to shop for just about everything, and can get there and back each time by the shortest route without reference to the local street maps. This in itself is a real achievement in the entirely non-direct layout of Albany. I realised I had 'become a local' when I found myself potentially ignoring speed limits and become impatient when stuck behind dawdling, sightseeing 'tourists' whilst commuting the unavoidable 10 kms into the central Albany CBD.
But enough of this introspection for the moment. Let's get down to some really serious stuff.... fishing!
One real plan I had for our time here was to provide The Matron with her favourite finny feeds.....garfish, or 'gardies' as they are locally known. Could I repeat the success of our previous visit?
One real plan I had for our time here was to provide The Matron with her favourite finny feeds.....garfish, or 'gardies' as they are locally known. Could I repeat the success of our previous visit?
First things first. As all who have dangled a line will know, good fishing results are contingent on a number of variables, some of which, such as the weather and tides, are not within our control. The right bait is a different matter altogether, and for gar the one and only bait is fly maggots, or as we from the gentile realm of SA more politely refer to them, 'Gents'.
With these wriggling morsels firmly attached to tiny hooks, and a fair dollop of beguiling burly in the float, gar for miles around cannot resist the call to lunch. But there is a snag.....no bait shop in WA stocks these essentials. It is just as well that in my many summers on Kangaroo Island in years gone by I had perfected the art (skill, madness??) of breeding my own. And, no, once neatly housed in clean bran and pollard they don't smell, but the same cannot be said for sections of the process by which they reach that situation and I'll not inflict the gory details on you other than to note that a rather smelly, large fish head is a good start.
Suffice to say, I managed several successful breedings, and proved beyond doubt that they are the bees knees for good hauls of gar (I fished a number of times alongside a local who is no slouch with a rod but uses different bait).
Even when the catches were somewhat limited there can be few finer spots from which to try than the rock wall at Emu Point. Here Ted and I were casting out into the waters of Oyster Harbour, just beyond the boat channel entrance, on a day which I would have loved to bottled for later.
I had met Ted on my last visit to Albany. He is a most entertaining fishing companion. Ted has been around, including spending some of his childhood on an apple orchard at Norton Summit in the Adelaide Hills when my grandfather was the local Methodist minister there. Ted has shorn sheep, owned and skippered a tuna boat and built two houses. We have had some great yarns whilst plundering the pristine waters of Oyster Harbour.
The rocks on the point do present something of a hazard for those of us with challenged knees, particularly when performing the gymnastics required to bait up,
but once the hooks are loaded with 'gardie lunch', all that remains is to stand back, take in the view and keep an eagle eye on the float. How could anyone possibly not enjoy doing this.....Lizzie????? A beautiful summer day, light breezes, blue waters, an entertaining fishing mate and a challenge....heaven!
And, when the fishing gods smile, the gar just seemed to queue up for capture. Some were of modest size,
but every so often the rod would bend with the weight of a fine plump specimen. Now that's what we came here to do!
Of the several days I fished this spot, this was the most successful. After a couple of hours I suddenly thought that I had better check on the numbers in the bucket. Just as well....one more and I had reached my bag limit for the day. Two minutes later and it was time to scale and head the catch and wander off home.
I had 'bagged out'. Thirty fresh gar. This had been a day indeed. It's not often I have that peculiar pleasure of 'leaving them on the bite', as we say.
But again there is no such thing as a free lunch (or dinner). They all had to be filleted ready to be packed in the freezer. In the gathering gloom of twilight I was very grateful to be the owner of a 'Batlight', a portable LED torch which our very good friend John Vogt had insisted we needed in our kit. Fine call, JV. Good light is critical to the task of producing flesh saving butterfly fillets from some of the smaller fish (in addition to skill, patience, and a very sharp knife, that is!)
And where the garfish are concerned it is 'mission accomplished'. Our freezer now boasts fifteen frozen double meals of this fine flavoured fish. In her role as 'inside girl', where she is responsible for storage, Liz has called "enough!"
Much as I enjoyed the challenge of this form of fishing, the success achieved and the wonderful locale in which it is pursued here at Emu Point, my Albany piscatorial adventures have been extended during this stay, courtesy of a great bloke who set up opposite us in the park some weeks ago.
Jeremy, the Perth based owner of a kitchen manufacturing business, wandered across to our beer garden one evening where Liz and I were taking our ease on one of the rare warm late afternoons to ask if I was interested in fishing. "Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?". After a short but animated discussion it was settled....we would fish 'The Sandpatch' on the morrow.....0600 hours departure.
There are times (few and far between) when the lack of daylight saving here in WA is a boon, and this was one of them. The sun was well up as we made our way across Albany to the base of the local wind farm which is located high on the ridge overlooking the Southern Ocean.
"This is good, Jeremy, but where are we fishing?" "Down there." "Right....it looks great, but
at the risk of being a bit obvious, how do we get down there? It looks a bloody long way down."
You guessed it, dear readers....it was. But at least we didn't have to fly.....there is a stairway. This is the top section.....a 'warm up' run of almost 200 steps to the first viewing platform, which in my case became the first rest stop!
After a minute or two contemplating the insanity of what I was about to attempt and debating the potential outcome of going to all this effort without returning with fish, (or the even more vexed conundrum of having to drag a a good haul back up to the top if we were successful), the usual rallying cry of 'onwards and upwards' was turned on its head.....down we went. Some 700 steps later we were on the rocky ledges of The Sandpatch.
I spent the next few minutes trying to convince myself that the location was worth the effort. There is no doubt that, as far as ocean beach fishing spots go, this is prime. Close inshore gutters, reasonably small surf and a number of sandy gaps between the scattered rocks of the shore break all shouted salmon, tailor and bull herring country.
But did the fish know that? They surely did. Apart from some fine plump herring, I had the thrill of landing my first ever salmon, a more than modest size as far as this species goes, but for me that was a matter of complete irrelevance, and, given that I caught it on a herring rig, probably just as well.
To my delight, my highly competent and well equipped fishing companion was quick to capture the moment for posterity. I fear that this event may be a turning point....I have never been terribly interested in this type of fishing before, but I have to say I am now hooked (groan softly please).
On the condition that I discarded one of my rods (indeed it is that behind me in this photo) the Treasurer even acceded to my newly discovered (and urgent) need for a much better lightweight surf rod. "How much is that likely to cost?" "There are times when ignorance is a blessing, my dear", was probably not the smartest of answers, but permission was granted and the following day I was off like a shot to the local BCF, returning as the proud owner of a very flash 12ft Wilson and a reel of 20 lb braid. Shhhhhhh...$250! I did resist the temptation of a new reel, but that may change later.
Thank goodness Liz has discovered that freshly caught salmon, dusted lightly in flour and quickly grilled in light olive oil, does make a fine evening meal. But, of course, I am now under pressure to repeat this performance, either again at The Sandpatch (if I can summon the energy to face the stairs again....five rest stops on the way back up) or elsewhere on our travels east from here.
Despite the effort involved, it had been a super morning, followed of course by the inevitable knifework to convert these offerings from the sea to something ready for the pan.
A fine plate indeed. We did feast well that night.
This was not the end of my Albany fishing adventures with the redoubtable Jeremy. A couple of days later (after I had gotten my breath back and could again walk without wincing) we made the trip east to Two Peoples Bay and the nearby Little Beach, vaunted (wrongly in my view) as Australia's best beach....I'll let you be the judge.
We actually began the day at the 'back beach' after scrambling our way across the granite boulders pictured at the far end of this shot. I have to say my efforts at one point were less than elegant when my right knee gave way as I attempted to cross one large fissure. Legs, rods, and buckets went in all directions, and, on reflection, I was very lucky not to have broken my wrist. But we made it and despite the pristine location and our efforts to get there, the fish were just not on the bite.
Undeterred, we retraced our steps back to Little Beach (by a longer but much more user friendly route) and set up again. As ever, with the first cast the heart beat rose, but soon resumed its normal pace....not a touch. As you can see, my mate is a picture of the complete surf angler, but we had no luck. But the day was not a complete loss....I had learnt that I would never again attempt to access the back beach!
Jeremy, his charming wife Emily and their three lovely daughters joined us for farewell drinks in our annex all too soon. I had come to really enjoy both his company and the physical prod of a man thirty years my junior, and in the process had learnt much. We were both sorry to see them go.
"Thanks, Jeremy...I suspect you have unleashed a demon." Despite the challenges, I am finding that the lure of The Sandpatch is irresistible. I need another salmon. The forecast is looking good for Wednesday. Ah, the hope and dreams which keep us anglers at it! But for now, I'll provide those odd folk amongst you who don't love to catch our scaly cousins of the sea with the relief of ending this tale of Albany fishing....more of our some of our social life and other Albany snippets in my next.
Suffice to say, I managed several successful breedings, and proved beyond doubt that they are the bees knees for good hauls of gar (I fished a number of times alongside a local who is no slouch with a rod but uses different bait).
Even when the catches were somewhat limited there can be few finer spots from which to try than the rock wall at Emu Point. Here Ted and I were casting out into the waters of Oyster Harbour, just beyond the boat channel entrance, on a day which I would have loved to bottled for later.
I had met Ted on my last visit to Albany. He is a most entertaining fishing companion. Ted has been around, including spending some of his childhood on an apple orchard at Norton Summit in the Adelaide Hills when my grandfather was the local Methodist minister there. Ted has shorn sheep, owned and skippered a tuna boat and built two houses. We have had some great yarns whilst plundering the pristine waters of Oyster Harbour.
The rocks on the point do present something of a hazard for those of us with challenged knees, particularly when performing the gymnastics required to bait up,
but once the hooks are loaded with 'gardie lunch', all that remains is to stand back, take in the view and keep an eagle eye on the float. How could anyone possibly not enjoy doing this.....Lizzie????? A beautiful summer day, light breezes, blue waters, an entertaining fishing mate and a challenge....heaven!
And, when the fishing gods smile, the gar just seemed to queue up for capture. Some were of modest size,
but every so often the rod would bend with the weight of a fine plump specimen. Now that's what we came here to do!
Of the several days I fished this spot, this was the most successful. After a couple of hours I suddenly thought that I had better check on the numbers in the bucket. Just as well....one more and I had reached my bag limit for the day. Two minutes later and it was time to scale and head the catch and wander off home.
I had 'bagged out'. Thirty fresh gar. This had been a day indeed. It's not often I have that peculiar pleasure of 'leaving them on the bite', as we say.
But again there is no such thing as a free lunch (or dinner). They all had to be filleted ready to be packed in the freezer. In the gathering gloom of twilight I was very grateful to be the owner of a 'Batlight', a portable LED torch which our very good friend John Vogt had insisted we needed in our kit. Fine call, JV. Good light is critical to the task of producing flesh saving butterfly fillets from some of the smaller fish (in addition to skill, patience, and a very sharp knife, that is!)
And where the garfish are concerned it is 'mission accomplished'. Our freezer now boasts fifteen frozen double meals of this fine flavoured fish. In her role as 'inside girl', where she is responsible for storage, Liz has called "enough!"
Much as I enjoyed the challenge of this form of fishing, the success achieved and the wonderful locale in which it is pursued here at Emu Point, my Albany piscatorial adventures have been extended during this stay, courtesy of a great bloke who set up opposite us in the park some weeks ago.
Jeremy, the Perth based owner of a kitchen manufacturing business, wandered across to our beer garden one evening where Liz and I were taking our ease on one of the rare warm late afternoons to ask if I was interested in fishing. "Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?". After a short but animated discussion it was settled....we would fish 'The Sandpatch' on the morrow.....0600 hours departure.
There are times (few and far between) when the lack of daylight saving here in WA is a boon, and this was one of them. The sun was well up as we made our way across Albany to the base of the local wind farm which is located high on the ridge overlooking the Southern Ocean.
"This is good, Jeremy, but where are we fishing?" "Down there." "Right....it looks great, but
at the risk of being a bit obvious, how do we get down there? It looks a bloody long way down."
You guessed it, dear readers....it was. But at least we didn't have to fly.....there is a stairway. This is the top section.....a 'warm up' run of almost 200 steps to the first viewing platform, which in my case became the first rest stop!
After a minute or two contemplating the insanity of what I was about to attempt and debating the potential outcome of going to all this effort without returning with fish, (or the even more vexed conundrum of having to drag a a good haul back up to the top if we were successful), the usual rallying cry of 'onwards and upwards' was turned on its head.....down we went. Some 700 steps later we were on the rocky ledges of The Sandpatch.
I spent the next few minutes trying to convince myself that the location was worth the effort. There is no doubt that, as far as ocean beach fishing spots go, this is prime. Close inshore gutters, reasonably small surf and a number of sandy gaps between the scattered rocks of the shore break all shouted salmon, tailor and bull herring country.
But did the fish know that? They surely did. Apart from some fine plump herring, I had the thrill of landing my first ever salmon, a more than modest size as far as this species goes, but for me that was a matter of complete irrelevance, and, given that I caught it on a herring rig, probably just as well.
To my delight, my highly competent and well equipped fishing companion was quick to capture the moment for posterity. I fear that this event may be a turning point....I have never been terribly interested in this type of fishing before, but I have to say I am now hooked (groan softly please).
On the condition that I discarded one of my rods (indeed it is that behind me in this photo) the Treasurer even acceded to my newly discovered (and urgent) need for a much better lightweight surf rod. "How much is that likely to cost?" "There are times when ignorance is a blessing, my dear", was probably not the smartest of answers, but permission was granted and the following day I was off like a shot to the local BCF, returning as the proud owner of a very flash 12ft Wilson and a reel of 20 lb braid. Shhhhhhh...$250! I did resist the temptation of a new reel, but that may change later.
Thank goodness Liz has discovered that freshly caught salmon, dusted lightly in flour and quickly grilled in light olive oil, does make a fine evening meal. But, of course, I am now under pressure to repeat this performance, either again at The Sandpatch (if I can summon the energy to face the stairs again....five rest stops on the way back up) or elsewhere on our travels east from here.
Despite the effort involved, it had been a super morning, followed of course by the inevitable knifework to convert these offerings from the sea to something ready for the pan.
A fine plate indeed. We did feast well that night.
This was not the end of my Albany fishing adventures with the redoubtable Jeremy. A couple of days later (after I had gotten my breath back and could again walk without wincing) we made the trip east to Two Peoples Bay and the nearby Little Beach, vaunted (wrongly in my view) as Australia's best beach....I'll let you be the judge.
Undeterred, we retraced our steps back to Little Beach (by a longer but much more user friendly route) and set up again. As ever, with the first cast the heart beat rose, but soon resumed its normal pace....not a touch. As you can see, my mate is a picture of the complete surf angler, but we had no luck. But the day was not a complete loss....I had learnt that I would never again attempt to access the back beach!
Jeremy, his charming wife Emily and their three lovely daughters joined us for farewell drinks in our annex all too soon. I had come to really enjoy both his company and the physical prod of a man thirty years my junior, and in the process had learnt much. We were both sorry to see them go.
"Thanks, Jeremy...I suspect you have unleashed a demon." Despite the challenges, I am finding that the lure of The Sandpatch is irresistible. I need another salmon. The forecast is looking good for Wednesday. Ah, the hope and dreams which keep us anglers at it! But for now, I'll provide those odd folk amongst you who don't love to catch our scaly cousins of the sea with the relief of ending this tale of Albany fishing....more of our some of our social life and other Albany snippets in my next.
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