HOW TO GO FISHING 1
Site unseen I hedged my bets on their judgement (mainly Ethan being sensible) and decided that I would invest and go equal thirds on our new tinny.
Later that day I remember Tom sending me a Snapchat photo of the purchase and thinking there might be some responsibility to what I'd just opted into. Nevertheless, I didn't have to store the boat so that was my main concern out of the picture. And importantly it was cheap, the prerequisite for most purchases on student wages. It should also be noted at this point all three of us did not possess cars with tow hitches or boat licenses for that matter. We did, however, have a dream to sink suds in the sunshine, catch ourselves dinner, and look back on the beach goers as we kick it at Second Valley.
I had yet to lay eyes on my investment being busy with work and uni but before I could Tom and Ethan drove it to Toms family shack on the Yorke Peninsula for a storage option. After that trip was the first I heard news of the rust situation. The rationale behind my split second yes-man decision came down to I was investing in both my friends and opportunity. But on paper I'd given money towards a nicely sized tinny, a small tiller and a rusty trailer.
Unfortunately the trip from Adelaide to Rogues Point had been a bit much for the tired, disintegrating trailer. It was put on a life support combination of duck tape and rust converter. I can't say the wheel bearings where great either.
Some time had passed since the great migration, and Tom had successfully got his boat license. Therefore, it was only fair a fishing trip was in order. Tom, Ethan and other mate Chris headed up on a Friday while myself and other mate Austin fanged it out later that night.
Already giving it the shakedown earlier that day, the boat was tied up sitting comfy on the low tide. Under the torch light I finally met my epic decision as my mates gave me the tour.
With the weather looking mint and waters looking calm I was pretty excited for what was to come.
Supplies packed, rods rigged and a few hours sleep (not many seeing Austin and I had the brilliant idea to stay up late and watch skateboard videos). And on a side note we were very well hydrated.
Captained by Tom, with Ethos second in command we cruised out in our comically slow boat for the first session of the day. Normally 3.3 horses of power fueled by a potentially inaccurate ratio of oil and petrol would be enough for a two man crew, or a scooter in Bali. But with a crew of five our little nineties two-stroke was topping out at a relaxing pace. In it's defense it proved to be bullet proof and who wants a big Johnson (motor) anyway? I'd say ours is perfectly average.
With no depth sounder and no chance of a democracy we used Chris's gut feel to determine where to plant us. We would competitively cast, hiding the fact we were praying as individuals, please let it be me who lands something.
Before I made the trek I had been assured there was fishing gear there and not to bother bringing anything. Really no surprise, maybe a tad of disappointment, there was a good number of rods but a shortage of hooks, line, sinkers and just about everything else. For simplicity I had rigged up most rods with squid jigs and tied a few setups for if we went a bit deeper. Bait wise, we were armed with cockles the fellas had acquired on Friday.
After little time I sent us deeper thinking a bounce off the bottom would yield results and a good pub story involving holding my arms really far apart. Unfortunately that's not exactly how things went. My mates were not convinced of my spot choice and worse they were discovering the art of fishing is in rigging up well. While they were busy doing that I managed to bring some excitement to the party with a few measly little fish. We got excited as Austin reeled in a puffer fish which gave him grief removing it from his hook. During the commotion Tom suggested to him "maybe it's one of those ones that doesn't puff up" of which it did no less than a few seconds post proposal.
Finally I had something notable. As I began to bring the little Port-Jackson in I tried to put on a show, explaining to the fellas the importance of tiring it out a bit before a photo finish. (Deep down I was happy to get it off the line, no need for a shark in the boat)
Not long following that, votes were in and squid was back on the agenda. After all we needed something we could eat. Back into the reeds we cruised, directed once again by Chris. Now Chris must have known something we didn't because he picked up three or four decent squid in no time, with Ethos snagging another two biggies. At that point we headed back in for lunch.
Contrary to what I typed earlier we no longer hydrated, we were sun burnt. This meant that everyone was chilling out, having a nap, watching TV, etc. During our pleasant down time I was hanging up my boardies when a bloke in a newish Toyota pulls up, puts down the window and says;
"I think it's your boat that's drifting down the beach."
I thanked him, woke our skipper, looked out to see the ugly truth and then we ran. Tom had tied the boat up good and proper. It just so happened the buoy he attached it to had a rope going down, tied to something very heavy, buried deep in the sand on a low tide. Unlucky for us the rope had snapped. Under normal circumstances it would have appeared fine but with the tide coming in and boat pulling on it the rope had given up. This meant the boat had drifted from the south end of Davey road down about twenty blocks towards the point. After jogging the beach we swam out pulled the boat in, I held it to stop it floating away while Tom fired up ol' mate Johnson. Out of breath I walked back to the shack as Tom demonstrated with one man the tinny really could be quick.
That seemed to be enough shenanigans for the day so we turned our focus to dinner.
Sunday saw an early start with excitement in the air. Conditions remained good with the gulf still fairly flat for most of the session.
But while we were on a bit of a high, our winning streak was coming to an end. Who knows maybe the rope breaking was a sign to quit while we were ahead. Unbeknown to us we had been cruising around like we had five stars in Grand Theft Auto. And just like in GTA the police spawned out of nowhere. We were wanted I guess.
After the ordeal we promptly flawed it back to shore dropped off Ethan and Chris so they could meet us at the boat ramp with the trailer. Aus, Tom and I carried the boat about a hundred metres over low tide and onto the trailer. Chris in his Pajero then quickly snuck it back into hiding. We had gotten off easy. There was no chance we were going to let them see the state of our trailer.
And with that our fishing trip was over, boat back to rest and honestly money well spent. You have to remember this isn't a guide on how to buy a boat or catch fish, this is how to go fishing number 1 and no doubt there's a number 2 in our near future.
