HAVING recently hosted a game fishing tournament in Port Stephens – involving big boats, big fish, marlin and sharks – I thought of how different it was to fishing in the bush, west of the Great Divide.
We recently motored out of Fingal Bay, headed for the western town of Warren, where the plan was to meet up with others before setting up camp on the Macquarie River to target cod.
Five hours later we had a rest stop at Gilgandra where, many years ago, I first was introduced to “bush fishing”.
It is traditional for fishing parties to stop at the Collie Hotel for a refresher before motoring on to Warren, some half hour or so further on.
Arriving in Warren with great expectations, I was informed that we needed to travel another 80 kms along the Carinda Road to the camp site.
Turning off the main road we headed into the unknown for another 12 kms.
Finally, we reached “the spot” under a clump of trees with the river slowly trickling along down a steep embankment.
“This is it,” I was informed.
“We have arrived, unpack the trucks.”
Fishing in the inland freshwater rivers is a very different game to the coastal estuaries. NSW Fisheries rules apply and ignorance is no excuse.
A maximum of two cod per day with a possession limit of four between the lengths of 55–75cm is generally permissible, with a closed season between 1 September and 30 November.
It is legal to set two attended lines within the line of sight, which means they must be visible at all times.
Being what I would call a sedentary fisherman I set two lines in front of the camp site and sat back to enjoy the magnificence of the bush – cockatoos, wedgetail eagles and flocks of parrots of all sizes and colours.
My two lines, baited with a crayfish and a cube of cheese, remained slack as I eagerly awaited the lines to stretch like a violin string.
Wild pigs, kangaroos and emus joined the goats and an occasional deer wandered around the campsite as I waited and waited for the magical moment when the seven hours of travel and weeks of preparation would be rewarded.
A twitch! Movement!
Something is showing interest.
Got him! I sprang out of my slumber and feverishly pulled the cheese-baited line to the bank.
Bouncing around in the mud on the edge of the river was a thumping great carp!
I will leave my opinion of carp to another day.
I reset the line and went back to the deck chair in the recline position.
Just as the sun settled in the branches of the river gums – strike!
Something serious was on the other end.
This time a magnificent 60 cm cod had taken the bait and had no plans to leave the water.
After an all-round fishing adventure involving some 1200 kms, setting up tents, launching kayaks, organising cooking facilities and everything that goes with camping, we caught a total of one fish.
“Maybe we could have done better on the other side of the river, about 30 metres away,” we said.
That is the funny thing about fishing – you only need to catch one fish to make the entire adventure a great success.
By John ‘Stinker’ CLARKE
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