"Fish Tales and Techniques"
by Captains Ross and Glenn Hunter

POWER AND MUSCLE AT THE PEAK

In 1985 were approached by the Terry Willesee television show to do a segment on yellowfin tuna. That was way before Rex Hunt and other popular fishing shows hit the big screen. The only bit of fishing that was screened was the occasional old Bob Dyer segment, which, by today's standards, was a little amateurish, but still enjoyable. The wise executives running TV stations did not believe that fishing would rate. How wrong they were! Today there is a multitude of prime-time fishing shows on the box. Sometimes even highly intelligent ex-university graduates get it wrong, not that they would ever admit it.

It wasn't until a company did a census and found out that half the nation are regular fishos and the other half like the Rex Hunt show anyway. Well done fellas, took a while for the penny to drop! So it may have been that the top rating Willesee show wanted a little fishing content, but we were always hungry for some prime-time coverage so off we charged to the tuna grounds accompanied by camera men and, yes, a helicopter.

Vic Casey, Glenn, Craig Summerville and myself headed out of Botany Bay. Broadbill was loaded to the gunnels with berley. We had bread, mullet, pilchards, and not in boxes, but we had truck loads of the stuff. We were on a full mission to get the job done for Mr. Willesee. Nothing is going to stop us from catching a big tuna and there had been the occasional jumbo-size around during that week. We cruised the five nautical miles to the Peak, accompanied by the Channel Seven chopper, which is flying just two metres off our outriggers to get some close-ups.

I thought at one stage that they were so close that they were going to land in the cockpit amongst the boxes of berley and crap. We were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for action, as we anchored on the high part of north Peak. The anchor took up and everyone manned their tasks; Vic on the bucket, Glenn on the cubes, Craig on the rod. After an hour or so we swapped tasks, it sort off breaks the boredom.

It was a calm July day, the ocean was slick, and hordes of shearwaters and petrels meandered past on their migratory journeys. The birds were excited and swept at the ocean every now and then to feast on a morsel of food that was coming to the surface as if from a fish kill. This happens when there tuna are feeding, the signs were good. But it was now 1 pm and "didley squat" was the result. Vic suggested that I have a go on the rod as his arm was getting sore. I obliged and wound the pillie in, replaced it with a fresh one and commenced feeding it back down the slick. The current was running at 2.5 knots to the south, leaving whirlpools at the transom of the boat. In fact, it was so strong that I did not have feed out the pillie, the current dragged the line off the spool for me.

The water was cobalt blue and full of sparklers, a kind of plankton that glows vivid and bright purple in the sunlight, it looked perfect for tuna. The boys were feeling a little dejected. The camera crew were asleep. As I fed out the pillie I was beginning to wonder whether we would get any footage at all for our hosts. There is nothing more adrenaline pumping, or as good an alarm clock, as the scream of a reel. That was the sound coming from the rod as I was feeding back. "Here we go!" I cried, striking the fish immediately. The hook-up was solid as the big fish bolted for the horizon.

The first run was 400 metres and we did not want too much more 15-kilo line out, so we decided to buoy off the anchor and chase the fish with the boat. The boys asked the usual question when a blind strike is encountered:

"How big, Cogga?"

I shrugged, hung on, and watched line pouring off the reel at a fairly distressing rate. "Dunno" I replied. "But if we don't start haulin' some arse backwards soon we'll never know, because we'll be spooled", I suggested. The big tuna had bolted and taken an alarming amount of line in the short period we had him on, and we were confronted with a certain amount of urgency that shiny, bright, lineless spools can dictate. That sparked them into a little more panic and action as the engines roared into life and we started backing up. After 20 minutes the exodus of line had settled a bit and the tussle grew into a more manageable stage of panic, line was no longer disappearing.

I backed off the drag to compensate for water pressure on the 400 or so metres that the tuna had out, things calmed down and the cameras rolled. We wanted a good tuna, we had caught 12 fish so far this season over 70 kg and this one was unlucky 13—and by the power of the fight, he was going to be up and maybe over the magic 70 kg.

It's funny how the thoughts of a fisherman can go from "Yes, he's a beauty" to "I'm not too sure now", as a bit of easy line is retrieved. It is always an unknown with a tuna on a blind strike, so the guessing game goes on through the fight. If he gets away, he's generally the biggest one ever hooked. The fishermen's adage, "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story", can come to the fore. We had a rating for yellowfin back then, a sort of code we used when talking to each other on the radio, boat to boat, thinking that other fishermen would be confused by the lingo and not be attracted to the spot. It never worked, but it was cool to do it. The "ready reckoner" went this way:

*Fleas (up to 20 kg)
*Rats (from 20 to 40 kg)
*Fish (from 40 to 100 kg upwards) …… this was definitely a fish.

The battle lingered on for two hours. The fish was 150 metres straight under the boat and still pulling like a 12-year-old. To this day I still have not found a way to catch a big tuna any quicker than keeping even pressure and waiting them out until they become exhausted and line can then be gained, but not till then. We were the first of the new breed of fishermen to use "short stroker rods" or as we called them in that era, before somebody came up with the name "trick sticks".

We were convinced that the shorter the rod the more advantage to the fisherman. Well I've since changed my views on that, having caught many fish on short strokers versus either a longer, softer rod or better still a chair rod, and results are astounding and quite the opposite. A big tuna caught from a bent butt game rod with the angler in the chair will be caught in half the time as an angler standing up using a short stroker, it is the hardest and most back-breaking way to catch a fish!

I was finding this out, as time and again the yellowfin would circle deep under the boat with me trying to keep my back straight but not having much success, against the fish's overwhelming power. The fight went on for another hour; the big fish is now 50 metres below. That is when it really got tough.

I had a little respite from time to time by sitting in the chair, but that is impossible now because the fish is directly under the boat. My back, after 3½ hours, is really hurting and to make things worse we have a storm front on us with lightning, tropical monsoonal rain and a 30-knot wind.

"Great", I whispered under my breath as my body started to reject me and wanted no part of that epic battle anymore. The storm eventually passed, my wet clothes started to dry out a little, and I wished that epic example of human torture would end. After much grunting and straining the doubled line is in view, and on gazing into the depths we catch the first sighter of the tuna. He is enormous, the biggest I have ever seen.

I settled myself down and tried to keep calm, knowing full well that all big tuna that are lost are lost at the tracing or the gaffing.

We now see the fish all the time, but he is so huge that on 15 kg tackle it is still a seesawing give-and-take of gain and loose line. "Be patient, Ross!" I tell myself. My Grandfather's advice:

"Good things come to those who wait"  …Was going through my brain as I put every last bit of strength I could muster into the final lift. It seemed ages until Vic and Glenn took the trace and Craig gaffed him in one swoop then lifted the fish—we all agreed it was over the magic 100 kg—into the cockpit of the boat.

We all stood spellbound for a moment, shocked at his size; the fish beat his huge tail as the life slowly disappeared from him. I always feel sorry for a fish, especially one as grand as this big old fella.
However, he was a record and fishermen thought differently then, so it was off to the weigh station at the Botany Bay Gamefishing Club to weigh him and finish off the sequence for the cameras.

If we had weighed the fish while we were still at sea he probably would have gone 100 kg. However, a couple of hours after he was dehydrated he weighed 98.5 kg—still a beauty and still to this day one of the biggest out of that port.

I retired from personal tuna fishing after catching that fish, I had caught my fare share of tuna and figured that it would be many a moon before I'd better that one, and besides, the rule "no pain, no gain" just did not appeal to me any more, especially the pain part. A fortnight later I was still feeling the effects of the fight, such is the power of the tuna.

We have caught many yellowfin for our customers from that day to this and have been part of some gladiator-type battles, but never with me on the rod. No! I retired that July day in '85 with a memory that I will not forget and that makes me feel good——but isn't that what it's all about?

65 kg tuna on a lure	645 bluefin at the Peak (That's 240kg It was caught in the mid 50's
1985 big tuna bb	1985 tuna at the peak
A 75kg yellowfin	A couple of horses from a dinosaur era
A great catch from many years ago The one in the centre is Tony Barber	A great fish from the '80s
Adrian Yates caught this beauty at the Peak in '85	Another gem from a forgotten era
Another great fish at The Peak on Broadbill	Another huge fish caught at The Peak in the late '80's
Big tuna like these were caught most days at The Peak in '85 on Broadbill	Gavin Sharp's yellowfin caught on the old BILLFISHER
Glenn Hunter with 85kg yellowfin in '92	Ian Tricker and mate with a couple of yellowfin one 55kg and 80 plus kilo at the peak on broadbill in 86
John Dunphy and Nat Ghosn with a couple of honker yellowfin caught on Broadbill 2 decades ago at the Peak	My nephew Craig Summerville playing an 80kg tuna at The Peak in 85
This was the biggest tuna recorded at The Peak to my knowledge It weighed 98.5kg, but was 100kg when caught. I retired from catching tuna after 4.5hors on 15kg	What a beauty
Where did these superb fish go.. Fringe fish we reckon

THE FRINGE FISH THEORY

Having recently read “Down to the Sea” a story about the Warren family, a great yarn about a dynasty of famous Eden fisherman.

  I was intrigued to read that one of the Warren’s made an observation about the southern blue fin tuna and that was that the commercial fisherman worked over the schools of blue fin with such pressure, first by long lining and then the totally efficient and most lethal, purse seining, that it created a Fringe Fish Syndrome.
By this it means that the fish that lived naturally in huge schools would be worked over year after year with unrelenting pressure and as time went by the skills of commercial fishing got more efficient.
 The fringe fish IE The schools that were closest to land were being punished unmercifully to the point where these schools became thinner under the constant bombardment, therefore the coastal fisherman were in a situation where they had to travel hundreds of miles further to obtain good catches, thus making the trips non viable because of distance, weather and the cost of fuel.

I have always thought that this theory is why we do not see big tuna at The Peak any more.
 The fish that we caught in such numbers in the late 70’s to the commencement of long lining in ’89………………….. I believe is due to the Fringe Fish Theory.
We never had to go to Browns Mountain or beyond to catch big tuna as a matter of fact all of our really big yellowfin were caught at the Peak, 5 nautical miles off Sydney.
We took it for granted that every season we would catch jumbos there and we did for over a decade.
The biggest blue fin tuna weighed over 300kg was caught at The Peak in the late ‘50’s imagine that today, that would be a jaw dropper!

On Broadbill we caught the last big tuna at The Peak in ’89 and I do believe that Shimano boss John Dunphy’s 80 kilo fin was probably the last tuna caught there.

We had been out on a Broadbill night fish and came into The Peak have a shot on the tuna.
 We caught three tuna a 52kg a 60kg and an 81kg fish that’s how easy it was back in that era.
I am convinced that pressure by long lining on the Fringe Stocks is why we have to travel so far to catch tuna today and the fish are smaller by comparison, sure the odd big one is caught every now and then but you can see by the historical archival photos of a past era that these big fish were common and what’s more expected back in those wonderful times of screaming reels and giant tuna.

The day that the airlines agreed to take tuna to Japan for the sashimi markets was the start of the decline of our coastal stocks and that happened in the mid to late 90’s.
The John Howard Liberal Governments 220 million dollar buy out of commercial long lining has helped to reduce the numbers of long liners now operating by over 60% this will help stocks to recover in the long term and maybe, just maybe we may see the return of big fish to our close in reefs like The Peak.

Certainly food for thought and anticipation and hope for the future.

BRING BACK THE GLORY DAYS I SAY

TROUT...THE NEVER ENDING JOURNEY by Ross HUNTER

As a third generation of fisherman my son Glenn and myself spend many thousands of hours game and reef fishing on our family owned charter boats both from our home port Sydney and then for three months each year we fish the marlin season from our second home Pt. Stephens, 100 nautical mile to the north.

We are dedicated "salts" to the extent that a recent blood test confirmed a percentage of salt water in our veins.

We fish the tuna in winter and the marlin in summer and nothing gives a Dad more pleasure than to be fishing a bait school next to his Son and watch him backing up most of the day chasing a hot marlin, sometimes beating the old bloke...

So many times at Pt Stephens I have had the thrill of experiencing both our boats Broadbill and Billfisher backing up to-gether after rampaging marlin.

I recall one day in 2005 where we were fifty metres apart working a hot bite when we both simultaneously had a double hook up, there were four marlin jumping all over the place as Captains and crew endeavoured to "knit one pearl one" in an attempt to stay in contact with the chaotic, wild action.

After 40 mins of hammering our boats in reverse all over the ocean in pursuit of fish that had extracted hundreds of metres of line, we eventually tagged and released them.
We both returned to the bait school and hooked a couple more up….Fishing at its best, heady days, happy crews, wild exciting action on Mother Ocean, stuff that dedicated marlin Captains live for.

The ocean is my life, it has given me so many wonderful experiences over a lifetime, memories that one savours and takes to the grave with a smile.
I started my fishing in my Grandfathers rowboat at the age of five; he taught me much, especially patience. I then fished lonely beaches, ocean rocks, joined The St George Sport fishing Club, fished the first Narooma Comp and so the wheel turned I was hooked, so to speak.

To day my personal passions are beach fishing, black fishing and believe it or not fly fishing for trout.

In the pursuit of these highly coloured specimens I have a mate of 30 years, who to is a salty from way back and loves to chase the illusive trout as well. He is a very talented trout fisherman who these days spends more time trout fishing and talking about it, than breathing…..we really do enjoy our alpine adventures away from the ocean, trout fishing to gether

GORDON AND ROSCOE AND OUR TROUT

It was beach and rock fishing and an occasional trout weekend where we started and it was these piscatorial pursuits that led me into the Bluewater scene, so why do they draw a fisherman back in the start, sort of a revisiting  childhood. I think if you are a fisherman no matter what species we pursue it is all so relevant.

For me trout fishing  is a totally different environment, a style that does not involve any pressure, no boats, no customers, just myself and a good mate in a wonderful carefree situation.

If we catch them, that's good…….. if we don't what the hell …………………….it was fun anyway.
We’ve fished hard, experienced some amazing country, generally walked a heap of kilometres every day to arrive back at camp to a cold ale and a relive of the day and enjoyed every minute of it.

Every year my good friend and trout fishing companion Gordon (the 50 kilo kid) Johnson and myself make our annual pilgrimage from Sydney to fish for a trout somewhere.

TROUT THE CHALLENGE

These beautifully coloured fish have drawn many a fisherman into sub freezing conditions with fingers, nose, ears and face freezing, for that matter any part of their anatomy which is exposed to the conditions within ten minutes is blue with cold.

We stroll through rivers that have banks frozen with ice, our fly rods at the ready as we inspect every section of river or lake with expectations of that fish of a lifetime working a rapid or rising on a bug.

Compared to their salty water cousins they are a relatively poor fighting fish and they taste like coloured cardboard, unless smoked, so what brings Gordon and myself back, year after year.

Is it the polaroiding, stalking and presenting a fly to feeding fish in a rapid on a crystal clear stream, whilst your heart pounds in your chest or maybe a late afternoon rise as the bugs come out and congregate in the wind lanes?

And another big brown out of the Thredbo	A river we have fished for 30 years The mighty Thredbo
A beautiful brown caught on a freezing day . Thredbo NSW	A great underwater shot of a rainbow I caught in the Thredbo
Gordon catches this nice brown in the Thredbo	Gordon stalking a feeding fish on the Thredbo River NSW
I hook up on a big brown on the Thredbo River	I look forward to my week of fly fishing every year
We let most of them go	Ross's two browns caught on a nymph in the Thredbo
Mud Eye Mick with a nice Thredbo Brown.. It was released	This is what keeps bringing us back

Maybe stalking a big brown on the Thredbo with the knowledge that one wrong move will spook the fish and it’s all over, after all they didn’t get that big by being silly.
Maybe as the mist clears on Little Pine Lagoon as we walk the edge casting delicately at feeding fish tailing in the weed beds in 150 mm water depth.
Or is it the alpine climate which is so different to Mother Ocean where I spend the majority of my life.

Maybe it is fishing with my life long mate Gordon, who also shares a similar passion.
It’s all of the above I am sure We, have over the past few years travelled to Tasmania to break fresh grounds there and whilst we are currently reviewing our times (because of my work pressures we go in late April and we know that December would be better fishing so I am desperately try to re arrange our next trip to Tassie)                      

TASMANIA…… GOD’S COUNTRY

Upon arriving at Launceston we pick up our Hertz camper , stock up with tucker and of course some reds and a carton or two of Boags, having carried out the domestics it is a 1.5 hour drive and we are fishing.

The feel of the fly rod in hand, that first strip of the fly line, the back cast and lay that fly out as the line loops beautifully and the fly alights on the lakes surface.
It’s funny how you never forget how to use a fly rod even after a couple of years away from fly fishing.

I have experienced a little rustyness,  however after half a dozen casts I am back in the saddle again and lovin’ it.
Yes! I think to myself this is what brings me back every year, no pressures of customer’s expectations, just me and Gordon spoiling ourselves again.

Last April we fished a lot of new grounds as well as some of our old stomping grounds.
We travelled far and wide. The beauty of distances in Tassie is that everywhere is only an hour or so way.
We fished Little Pine, Bronte and Brady’s lakes Lake Augusta, The Great lake and Botsforth lake.

A lakje of reflections Little Pine Tasmania	A Tassie great fish
Local Shimano represenative Paul Ellis took us fishing in Tasmania and we did well	Gordon's big salmon
Little Pine Lagoon The fish were tailing in these reeds	A typical Tassie brown from Little Pine
Polarioding fish like this is what we love	Polaroiding a big fish ..very exciting
The home away from home in Tassie	This was my biggest brown caught in Tasmania
Hooked up and fighting a big brown	A big brown catch on a gum bettle hatch at Lake Bronte Tassie
Another one of Gordon's browns Caught on a glow bug

We cannot wait to get back to Botsforth as this lagoon the fish can be polaroided, however when we were there it blew a strong northerly making polaroiding impossible.
At Lake Augusta we caught fish, but once again it was cold, windy and unpleasant.

We left that area and headed to Bronte Lake, upon arriving we found that the lake had risen to record heights.
The weather had settled and whilst it was a little breezy it was coming over our shoulder .. Perfect
The temperature went to 21 degrees and we experienced a fabulous hatch of gum beetles and on que the big browns arrived.

Gordon called me up into his wind lane some twenty metres to the west, as I arrived a four pound fish rose, I was on the back cast I redirected the cast and lay a red tag fly on the fishes nose…”Whack” it grabbed it and the tussle was on.

Gordon too, hooked up and we both concentrated on catching our trout.
After ten minutes both fish were released we caught a couple more until the hatch slowly dissipated with the dropping afternoon temperatures

Sometimes it is the memory of a great session on a lake or a stream that will bring you back year after year.
Any way it does for Gordon and me.

THE BIG DUNBOGAN GROGAN 2008 (BEEN AND GONE)

WE HAD A GREAT TIME

What a turn up we had for the Big Grogan and whilst our organising skills needed a little more thought, being the full moon and the Bathurst Motor Races ( all the Holden and Ford petrol heads love to watch the event, whilst consuming a box or two of beer, hence a day lost on the tournament)

This combined with the full moon effected fishing pretty dramatically.

The teams made up of Old Farts….. Ross The Cogga Hunter, Bob The Road Runner Morgan, Brian The Moose Nesbitt, John The Gnome Robbo and Graham The Tourist Lees Then the young Bloods featuring The Crystal Cowboys Glenn The Captain Hunter, Johnny Son of Redwood Rann and last, but by far not least, Kevin Banga Banks competed extremely well catching a good haul of flathead as did The Coonas made up of Banana Bob Cartwright and Ricko Koala Clay ( who incendtally got the nickname for his disbelief that koalas don’t exist in the Dunbogan area, especially in the tree at the back of out house, well it all changed for koala when we arose after the Grogan and there was the koala sitting in the tree .

A better day on the blackies	Banana Bob's great flatty only to be beaten by the Crystal Cowboys
Banana breaths in the serenity. The Coonas performed well as usual	Banana's great bream caught on a hard body. There is to be a bream trophy next year in the Big Grogan
Emu.Bob, Ian and Smitty with the mornings catch	Getting bigger
Ian Redwood get's lucky with this nice blackfish	Ricko on the river
The Crystal Cowboy's Banga Banks John Rann and Glenn Hunter with their catch in the Grogan. They had their presentation acceptance speech all ready	The Crystal Cowboys They never gave up A great team
The Emu had it won with this 38cm blackfish untill Gavin Sharp's 43cm took over	The Emu with a good fish

At the sight of this Koala danced with glee, nearly wetting his pants with excitement at the sight that was before him. He grabbed his camera and nearly filled his memory stick with photos of the little fella.

We have not had the heart to tell him it was artificial and was velcrod to the branch.
“Koala” is now a believer, its only take five years

The boat teams of Old Farts the Crystal Cowboys and The Coonas fished hard throwing soft plastics, baits and the kitchen sink at them, but alas it was tough.

It was Glenn Hunter who had a 49cm flattie and the lads were already preparing their presentation speech for the trophy.

The Emu working his magic on the wall We fished 10 hours a day never giving up	They weren't all big Ricko with a spikey
This made Ricko Koala's day A real koala that he has waited five years to see	We all worked hard for our blackfish
Roscoe gets weary and heads to bed . Guess what footy team he barracks for	Chris Smitty.. A great competitor
Stewy The Swordies winning falthead	Banana and the gnome They had time
The Gnome catches this 38 cm bream on a strip of mullet	The Moose congratulates Stew on his flathead trophy
The Tourist Graham Lees having just recieved the big dummy spit award	The winner by a country mile Gavin Sharps 43 cm Blackfish
What a team The Big Grogan competitors back at the shack	Banana accepting Aqua Monsters trophy.. He will do anything to get into a photo. He was happy he didn't win tournament pest this year

“I’d like to thank the organisers of this event and condolences to the losers” (that sort of gracious stuff, but it was Stew The Swordfisherman Case who, after having a tough time on the blackfish wandered to the local boat ramp and in desperation thew out a soft plastic and jagged a 52cm flattie, pipping the Crystal Cowboys with only minutes left in the Grogan

We decided to purserver with the blackfish and caught a couple, but it was Emu Steve Fielding who scored a really nice 38cm fish under the bridge at slack tide. He was home and hosed and was rehearsing his acceptance speech until The Aqua Monster Gavin Sharp caught two beauties at the death knock..One going 43 cm’s now that is a great blackfish. This went on to take out the converted blackfish trophy by a country mile

TROPHY WINNERS IN THE BIG GROGAN

To fish the Big Grogan is like being in “Mad Max or Water World” it has become almost famous with a cult following. A team of hangover sufferers from a long forgotten era, an era of respect of your elders, a team of Old Farts who’s job in life is to give to The Young Bloods and train them correctly so when they become Old Farts they will have been brought up proper.

This year’s competitors were;
Brian The Moose Nesbitt, Ross The Cogga Hunter, Bob The Road Runner Morgan John The Gnome Robertson, Graham The Tourist Lees, Steve The Emu Fielding, Ian Red wood Rann, Johnny Son Of Redwood Rann, Glenn The Captain Hunter, Kevin Banga Banks, Banana Bob Cartwright, Ricko I’ve now seen a Koala Clay, Stew The Swordy Case, Chris Smitty Smith all fished hard and considering we all fished some of the biggest tides on the full moon the results were excellent, under the circumstances.

THE WINNERS WERE

BIGGEST FLATHEAD …Stewart Case
BIGGEST BLACKFISH…Gavin Sharp
TOURNAMENT PEST………Graham Lees

This amazed Banana Bob who has won the trophy every year since its inception and the look of relief on his face when he realised that someone else beat him, if only by a whisker to it was precious.

BEST DUMMY SPIT ………..Graham lees for a remarkable performance the previous year when his Suzuki wouldn’t start at the boat ramp.. Language… you’ve never heard anything like it!

Next year we are intend to introduce the Biggest Bream trophy into the Grogan after The Gnome and Bananas excellent 38cm gems caught later on.

2008 was enjoyed by us all  plenty of  barbeques, great company, many after dark sing alongs and great yarns but that’s what the Big Grogan is all about.

On a lighter note I am happy that there was no attempted take over by the Young Bloods like we experienced last year and for us Old Farts “Military Style de coups” are pretty much beyond us so it was nice to see the Young Bloods stuck to what they are most successful at and that is showing us how much they can drink and leaving the important things for us to oversee.

WHAT A WILD MONTH JUNE WAS

BEST TUNA FOR A DECADE

When we look back we really did have some fabulous fishing in late May and all through June.
Why!.... because the warm 20 to 21 degree water that tuna love stayed with us all month and so did the tuna.

A 45kg yellowfin on fly gear Now That's a challenge	Another great fish on Glenn Hunter's Billfisher
Anglers first on Broadbill	Another big June fish on BILLFISHER
Big June fish	Dr Mark Josephs with his fish taken on fly gear
Emanuel's first tuna on Broadbill	Greg Lees great fish
Hooked up and fighting on fly gear	Lots of 20kg fish
Now that's what you pay for A great day smiles on dials	The winch with a beauty
Paul Curuana's 45 kg gem

Glenn Hunter’s BILLFISHER excelled with constant catches of fish to 55 kg all month On BROADBILL we too had some great days with our clients scoring big tuna makos and a stack of albacore.

The majority of fish were cubed on the wide grounds south of Sydney This method is by far the most successful for this type of fishing At times trolling minnows and skirts will work it is all up to judging the best method on the day by the skippers.

The reason our boats are more successful,  is dedication to the cause and the years of experience in tuna fishing between father and son Ross (45 years) and Glenn (25years)
They simply are the best and most respected Captains around and always give value for money.
Not the cheapest, but in most instances in the charter business you get what you pay for ……It can be a pit fall chartering vessels on price alone.

CHECK OUT THE PHOTOS THEY SAY IT ALL AND AS ROSS SAYS YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR IN THE CHARTER BUSINESS.

TO BOOK……….Ring Ross or Glenn on 9534 2378
Costs $1550.00 per day for groups of 6 people or $260.00 per head per day off Sydney
We leave from Sans Souci in Botany Bay
Duration of the day is 10 to 12 hours

As we are sponsored by Shimano all tackle is the best you can buy

SHARK FISHING

As a dedicated marlin man I have never been interested in the “Mud Wallopers Sharks” althoughwe have caught many hundreds of different shark species over the years whilst tuna fishing, they have never been targeted specie on our boats.

As a matter of fact all sharks that we do catch are banned from being brought on board, mainly because they make the boat stink for days afterwards and also because there is an element of danger involved in dragging them onboard, with in many cases inexperienced anglers.
Makos and blue sharks are particularly dangerous in this situation so it is the safer approach we adopt on Broadbill and Billfisher

A GIANT MAKO AROUND RUNAMUK	Now let's pull him in with us
An awesome shot by Dave Granger	Matt Ghosen and his 350kg tiger caught last week
Big Tiger

There are some along our coastline who live to catch sharks be it tigers, makos, whalers, hammers and blues.

The Toohey lads on Avanti, The vessel Rampage skippered by the Page boys are great historical shark fisherman and very competitive in their field.

However it is the Ghosn family, Nathan and Matt who own and run SylvaniaMarina who are extremely good on the sharks. Their boats Razorback and Thresher are legendary shark boats and I believe they are two of the most talented sharkers around the scene today.

David Granger on his boat Runamuk  too, has been around the shark scene since he was a lad fishing on his Dad’s boat Bounty Hunter.

These lads have been competitive fisherman all their lives.
In the case of Matty Ghosn he deckied a season with me on Broadbill, catching and releasing many marlin in that ‘91 season Matt was 13 years old back then and a great reliable crewman..

The Goshen boys and David all work to gether at Sylvania Marina and live for the long enduring tussles and seemingly never ending fights with the “BigTige “ The other thing that makes the thing more special is that they have been catching these monsters for years from their 18 foot trailer boats.

So many times in can recall fights that go into the wee small hours of the morning.

 Ten hour battles through the night, miles from home on a lonely ocean, great efforts indeed from these dedicated fishermen, pursuing their craft of big sharks from small vessels

Just check out the great photos of the lads recent 350kg tiger shark capture.

Here’s a verse that describes it all from one of my songs.

SHARK FISHIN SHARK FISHIN’
JUST SITTIN’ IN LOUNGE ROOM WISHIN’
I WAS OUT THERE SHARK FISHIN’

“THE BIG DUNBOGAN GROGAN” BEEN and GONE   (WE HAD A BALL)

Our annual blokey’s get away fishing get together week has been and gone and what a wonderful time it was.

We had 15 visitors over the week all staying at the Fisherman’s Shack at Dunbogan.
Some targeted blackfish others chose the flathead on soft plastics from their boats.

Us OLD FARTS Inc… myself  Brian Nesbitt The Moose , Bob The Road Runner Morgan, Graham Lees (the tourist) all love it to see the antics of the YOUNG BLOODS….they are as keen as mustard up at 4-30 am and into their fishing.

No siestas like the Old Farts may have……. no fishin, fishin, fishin all day and of a night …drink…we couldn’t keep it up to them.

THE”BIG DUNBOGAN GROGAN” A HOTLY CONTESTED EVENT IN ‘07

This years the “Big Grogan” was fished hard and fast and the results were nothing short of spectacular.
The Young Bloods, fishing in two boats made up of the “Coonas” and the “Crystal Cowboys” worked their magic by thrashing every inch of the Camden Haven River with their soft plastics and they caught a heap of good flathead, including the winning fish.
The teams made up from Glenn “The Captain” Hunter, Martin “Macka” Hunter Ricko “Koala” Clay, Kevin “Banga” Banks, these were the coverted “The Crystal Cowboys”

And The Coonas headed up by…. “Banana Bob” Cartwright, Paul “The Target” and then the experienced and devastatingly lethal the old Farts Graham “The Tourist” Lees, the Moose and Bob “the Road Runner” Morgan and Ross the Cogga Hunter

Other late arrivals were “Aqua Monster”, Steve “Emu” Fielding, Ian Redwood Rann and Roberta

The Crystal Cowboys fished hard and fast with soft plastics, acres of enthusiasm and packed eskies. They pulled flathead all day and were a definite early threat to the Coonas
 They fished well catching 30 or so flathead over the two day Big Grogan, but in the end were no match for Banana Bob’s very aggressive Coona team ..In Paul’s brand new boat with Banana at the helm, they pretty much run up on all the sand banks in the river (keep port on your port when coming to port Banana) but these blokes go hard and their 50 flathead left the Crystal Cowboys wanting. The nice shiny white prop was by now shiny alloy from its constant ploughing of the sand flats.

In the meantime The Moose hooked up a remora on some spider web line and was last seen motoring after it at hi speed, and of course his vast experience shone through in the end, as they boated the remora, which Moose fastened it by its sucker to The Tourists leg for a while before releasing. Nothing affects professionals!

A good blackie session	Banana and Paul in the hunt for flathead and sandbars
Paul lands a flatty..a most consistent competitor	Ricko gets lucky with a small flatty on the plastics
Road runner catches a beauty	Roberta and Redwood They are happy
Roscoe with his 44 cm model	The crystal cowboys Glenn and Martin Hunter and Banga Banks...Just Crusin
The magnificent river	They were tough but when we caught them they were beauties
Waiting patiently for a down	We nearly caught a kangaroo as it swam across the river
Banana with that fish A swab is being taken on this one

As for us more elderly crew (we were like the young bulls and the old bulls) we just wandered down the blackfish grounds and did the job well, no fuss , no hype just pure traditional blackfishing…Ah! The joy of the float diss appearing as the blackfisherman watches with keen eye, ever alert to his surroundings and adjusting constantly to the bite and the current ….A style of fishing reserved for gentleman and scholars …and rarely entered into by the young and impatient.

I was lucky enough to score a 44 cm gem that took out the blackfish award (this fish was caught on conventional tackle and green weed unlike Banana’s blackfish which was caught in the mouth, so the story goes on a soft plastic) jagged with a plastic…………..or was it?
 After a swab was taken, there is a strong rumour, it may not have been caught at all or even caught by someone else and a photo taken at the cleaning table of Bob Holding it up.

This I personally cannot believe this, as only a desperate man, a cad and a bounder, would resort to such tricks and then accept the trophy, even after all contestants were asked if there were any confessions, re any kind of any indiscretions, but alas silence was golden.
So Banana gleefully accepted his trophy whilst guzzling copious quantities of beer in the process.
If the truth ever comes out on this incident it will not be pretty if Banana has to face a full committee from the Old Seaman’s Mission..   They’re a hard and sea wearied bunch and would not take kindly to dishonest behaviour even if the tournament motto is;

CHEATING IS NOT ENCOURAGED, BUT IF DONE WITH FLAIR MAY BE ACCEPTED

Banana also made a clean sweep winning Tournament Pest  trophy, which he expected from the onset.
Ricko Koala Clay stared aimlessly into the surrounding scrub for his first glimpse of a Koala which visits us at the shack whenever Ricks not there.
Redwood Rann had a PB. When he actually caught his first blackfish whilst fishing with myself and Roberta, she had joined us for a couple of days as did the Aqua Monster Gav Sharp he also tallied up with some great blackfish.
Of an evening Aqua Monster, Banana and myself played some Buffet and some of Roscoe’s songs on the veranda on our guitars after dinner around the campfire and that was most enjoyable after a hard days fishing.

Next late arrival was Emu Steve who had a mission to catch one of the many cobias we had seen running the edge off the wall but first he had to catch a mullet live bait after two days no mullet ..No cobia.

The week just flew and we all had a great time We fished hard , eat too much and washed it all down with copious beers but isn’t that how it’s supposed to be when good mates go fishin’ !

AN ATTEMPTED MILITARY STYLE “DE COUP” TAKEOVER BY THE YOUNG BLOODS

There was a diss appointing incident when the Moose, The Road Runner, myself and Graham Less The Old Farts were set upon by the young bloods in a miliary style Coup in an endeavour to get one of their kind on the Big Grogan committee.  This traditionally has been reserved purely for members of the most dignified and respected Old Seaman’s \Mission
A petition was signed and presented to us one evening after the Young Bloods had drunk several beers (and had been on the chrome water bag, the chateau cardbo