Perch: 1, Pat: 0

Last week I ventured to a little creek on the Bass Coast that I’d wanted to explore for a while, in the hope of finding an estuary perch. Well I achieved one goal - I found perch. But landing them was another story all together…

I arrived at my location at around 4pm last Friday and with Luna as always in tow we set off into the bush in search of our creek:




After a bit of bush bashing we found it – and I liked the look of it:




I tied on an sx40 and started casting but I quickly discovered that this creek was super shallow – less than a foot deep . So after a couple of casts I made the decision to move further downstream and find some deeper water. Unfortunately this was easier said than done – there was thick bush in every direction. But Louie and I soldiered on:




And after a few mishaps (I nearly bloody killed myself in this cleverly disguised wombat hole):




And some new mates:






We finally found the creek again, and thankfully it was a lot wider and deeper:



I started flicking out casts and it didn’t take long before I was on:




A tiny salmon – not the target species, but it’s always nice to get a fish on the board. I continued flicking in this area for another half an hour without a touch before deciding to head back into the bush and find another spot. The bush was extremely thick here and every Australian native is covered in bloody prickles, so when I finally made it back to the creek I was covered head to toe in cuts and scratches. Poor Louie was exhausted:




But when I saw the creek, I knew it would be worth it:




This place had fish written all over it. It was deep, bordered by big, juicy snags, and had two little channels flowing into it. Unfortunately the thick scrub and deep mud made it extremely difficult to find a place to cast from, but after a bit of trial and error:




I eventually found a few fishable spots. I started flicking around my sx40 again and third cast I was on! This fish came to the surface pretty quickly and revealed itself to be a little perch of around 20cm – I had found my target! But just as I was lifting him up onto the bank, the hooks pulled. Oh well, plenty more where that came from I thought. And sure enough, next cast I was on again to what could have been the first fish’s twin. This fish I actually got onto the bank, but while I was stuffing around trying to take a photo, he gave an almighty flick, threw the lure and flopped back into the water. Shit! But I wasn’t too perturbed, I was sure I’d have other opportunities. And yep - a couple of casts later I was on again, but this time to a much bigger fish. I managed to pry him out of a nasty snag and I thought I had him beat, when he made one last lunge towards a snag about a metre from the bank. I took a step forward to prevent my line brushing against the timber – big mistake:




I could still feel the fish kicking but he was well and truly snagged, and I wasn’t going anywhere fast either. Eventually the kicking stopped and my lure floated free, revealing a very frayed leader and no fish. Goddamit! So after getting myself out of the mud I started flicking again, but all the commotion had shut the fish down (it was only a small pool after all). So after trying every likely hardbody in my tacklebox I tied on a trusty 80mm bloodworm wriggler and tossed it into the middle of the pool, and before I’d even wound up my slack something absolutely smashed it! This was a big fish and it immediately took off down a little side channel towards some very nasty looking mangroves. To explain what happened next I’ll need the help of a little diagram:




So when the fish took off towards the mangroves in the diagram, I decided to try and jump over the little channel between me and the island. BAD IDEA! I made the distance, but the mud bank that I landed on collapsed on impact and I went head over heals into the channel. Somehow I managed to keep my backpack out of the water, but by the time I’d scrambled back onto land the fish was well and truly wedged into the mangroves, and there was no chance of getting him out. So after my 6lb leader inevitably gave way, I stopped for a minute and surveyed the damage:




Cursed the mud bank that had failed me (you can see where the bastard collapsed on me):




And tied on another lure. By this stage I was like a coiled spring, ready to explode at the slightest tap. And when I finally got a hit, I leapt into action! The bite was right at my feet and I struck so hard the fish came flying out of the water - it was only my cat-like reflexes that saved me from copping a fish to the face. And after a bit of searching I retrieved my prize from the bushes:




Another tiny salmon. Thank God I was in the middle of nowhere without another person in sight because this was getting embarassing. Luna couldn't even look at me:




So I decided to put myself out of my misery and head off before it got too dark. On my way back to the car I discovered that if I wandered a little bit further away from the river the thick bush was replaced by farmland: 




So the walk back to the car was a lot more pleasant. I was soaking wet, covered in mud, bleeding from a thousand scratches, and I didn’t have a single photo of a perch - would I do it all again? Bloody oath!

Cheers!