5 minute read

Baffled, but not broken!

BRISBANE Troy Brown

Following months of a forced hiatus from kayaking, the excitement I felt while driving to Baffle Creek was palpable. Besieged by a host of issues but they are a year-round proposition at Baffle Creek. Numbers may slow a little during cooler weather, but unlike southern areas of the state, the species can still be actively targeted. Ron jokes that mangrove jack are the ‘red bream’ of the area, due to the frequency felt like pepper grinders when they reached our camp. One of my kayaks lost a rudder control during the trip, just another victim of some sub-par Queensland roads. Despite this, the satisfaction of reaching Baffle Creek Hideaway outweighed any inconvenience, even if my drags were basically ruined for the weekend.

On our first day of our competition, 35 members arose from their camp beds at 5am, with most on the water by 6am. I wasn’t rushing, as the relaxation I enjoyed outweighed my desire to win. The ‘grumpy husband’ had disappeared, and I was revelling in the transformation.

I was on the water nearly four hours after the bulk of our members, but I enjoyed a relaxing morning and some great chats. When I afterwards it was no fluke! beforehand, my attendance at the annual Qld Hobie Crew event was under threat. With help from my amazing wife Stacey (who was likely motivated by a few days without an increasingly grumpy husband in the house), I eventually commenced my journey to our camp at Baffle Creek Hideaway. The moment I hooked up my kayak trailer, I could feel some of the stress being stripped away, replaced by optimism and anticipation. Fishing Baffle Creek on a kayak is a great experience, but sharing it with an of catches. If you want some excitement, it’s hard to beat a mangrove jack strike. It’s exhilarating, but it can also be heart-breaking!

The trip from the south of Brisbane to Bundaberg is under six hours, if traffic is flowing well. The road quality is poor, evidenced by the poor state of my rods and reels, which travelled in the horizontal rod holders of my kayak. Shaken, not stirred, with dust, road grime and endless bouncing, I regretted my decision to not transport them in my car. Looking like they’d been in the Sahara Desert for a month, my reels challenging. There were reports of fish from other areas, but nobody fishing near our small group seemed to be having any success. If I had been logical about hook and bruised ego, as my drag stuttered and the fish pushed my tackle to the limit. Adding further insult, I lost two more fish in a similar matter.

I was frustrated with how I’d transported my gear, plus my decision to leave my box of spare parts in the garage at home. Gear maintenance is important for any style of fishing, but jacks are particularly rough on equipment. Drag maintenance can be the difference between scoring a trophy fish, or an ego-crushing donut. I managed a couple of small fish, but was left wondering what might have been. Despite the struggles of a few anglers who persisted in the slower sections, there were some solid catches from the group. Gareth Goodhew was a consistent performer on both days, proving that research, lots of effort and plenty of angling prowess will always provide a result. Gareth summed up his success by stating time on the water, along with the incredible group of people makes it truly memorable.

Organised by local crew member Ron Hess, the Baffle Creek event is focussed on socialising first, with a friendly competition as an additional incentive. Technically, the competition is multi-species, but an individual prize for Best Mangrove Jack adds prestige to the ‘red dogs’. Brisbane-based anglers are accustomed to mangrove jack activity lessening as summer becomes a memory, finally launched, focussed on catching a mangrove jack, I did nearly everything wrong. I wasted time persisting in unproductive areas, as it was simply too much effort to do otherwise.

After a while I decided that avoiding a donut was more important than catching a jack, and I switched to ultralight rods. I managed six late fish, with a mixed bag of species providing some entertainment. It was nothing to brag about, but at least I avoided the dreaded donut!

Day two was far tougher, with a different section of the creek proving to be my fishing, I would have pedalled my Hobie another area, swapped lures frequently, changed my retrieves and made multiple other adjustments. However, due to an overwhelming contentment – primarily because I was weekending with the friendliest crew on the water – logic never factored into my day. I fished the same small stretch of water, tossed the same lures, made lots of noise, lazily cast to whatever was in front of me, and relaxed!

Despite my limited effort, activity started to improve, and I was soon to discover the importance of tackle management. My gear had been punished during the journey, with my reels suffering the most of all. The normally smooth drags were suddenly rough, catching and slipping randomly. As the end of the competition came near, the drag became my enemy, along with my waning concentration. After a long delay between strikes, my focus dwindled and when I got that first big hit from a jack, my reactions were far too slow. I was left with nothing but a bent time you physically have a lure near the fish, is the simplest means to guarantee success. Those two factors are certainly important, but the full story of his weekend demanded more finesse, so he progressively worked smaller until he found the magic combination on the day. Fishing conditions change and so does fish they sat in the same spot all day. Luck does play a part in fishing success, but those people who continually achieve good results make their own luck. early, with their best fish caught on the day prior to the competition. Despite the early peak, they still posted some impressive fish for the competition tally, and cemented their reputations as some of our most consistent anglers.

Hamish McGregor landed a stellar flathead, and many other anglers reported personal bests. I was surprised to discover that grub lures dominated the mangrove jack catches, as they’re not a lure I’d normally consider for such an aggressive fish. Overall, it was a great weekend of fishing, with an incredible social atmosphere.

I’ve never been a tournament angler, but on my good days, my technique shows the difference between the ‘fishers’ and the ‘catchers’.

Over the two days, Gareth tirelessly covered an enormous amount of ground, noting spots of interest which weren’t accessible at the time (usually because another angler was already there), then he struck when the time was right. Gareth started heavy and large, with big lures, plus fishstopping line and leader combinations. Conditions behaviour, so there’s no sense in persisting with a losing strategy.

While I patrolled a limited area for most of the weekend, Gareth pedalled long distances, constantly seeking the most productive locations. His technique altered numerous times, with lure changes being only part of the equation.

When I spoke to those anglers who amassed the largest catches over the weekend, none of them said