John DiFrancesco with a 27kg Spanish mackerel caught on fly off the coast of Maningrida, Arnhemland.
The Abel #4 screamed in protest as near on 300mtrs of braid followed the Tropic Express fly line and headed off into the distance as John tried to keep his fingers clear of the knuckle busting direct drive fly reel. The #10 Loomis Cross Current was well and truly loaded and the scene was set for one hell of a battle.
I watched on closely as the backing on the reel got dangerously low.
Preferring to fight fish from a stationary boat, I urged John to wait it out. John on the other hand was suggesting that I start the outboard and chase the fish so he could pick up some line. Luckily for me, the fish stopped the blistering run just in time and John finally managed to gain some line.
We had been fishing a section of water off the coast of Maningrida in my 4.1 PolyCraft in search of queenfish and longtail tuna. John had opted to fish his #10 while I was using my preferred #7 outfit. Both of us were using the Tropic Express lines from Scientific Angler, and both of us were using Clouser flies tied on the Gamakatsu SL12s 4/0 hooks. All my fly’s are tied on either the 4/0 or 6/0 models.
We left the ramp before the sun had risen and steamed straight out to a patch of water that is known to produce some good fish. The fact that we were on our first drift when the abovementioned scene burst into action proved that we were on a good thing. The tide was on the rise and birds were starting to show in the sky. I was manoeuvring the boat around with the electric motor and positioning the boat to give us the best chance of hooking the fish that would be moving through the water around us.
The early stages of the fight as fly line and backing disappears into the rising sun under a mackerel sky. Note the net on the deck – that is all I had with me to try and land the fish.
John came up tight to a solid fish that I first thought was a large queenfish. I was soon questioning my call though as the fish was staying low in the water and was certainly moving a lot faster than queenfish normally do. Was it a giant trevally? Maybe a cobia? It was then that the fish hit the after burners and the fly line screamed through the water. The backing then zinged through the guides and John laid the rod down in a sideways motion to maintain more pressure on the unknown fish.
While all this was happening, I was busy trying to position the boat with the electric motor to try and give John the upper hand. When things settled in, I reached for the camera to capture some of the action.
By now, the sun had broken through the horizon and provided a nice backdrop for some of the photos.
Once John had gained some line back on the Abel reel, it was then a case of playing the fish out and keeping alert for any further screaming runs. At this stage, I was calling it for a cobia.
A few minutes later and we had colour. Bright silver which was further emphasised by the glare of the sun on the fish’s side as it came to the surface.
Shit! Spanish mackerel. And a bloody big one too. I started going through the scenario in my mind. John was fishing a 4/0 hook straight to 60lb mono. How did he still have this fish on after what had just happened? I then started to wonder how the hell I was going to land this monster. I had a net suitable for barra up to about 80cm and a set of lip grippers but that was all. I don’t carry a gaff any more. A quick search of the boat for anything suitable revealed nothing. I was acutely aware of the time as the longer this fish spent in the water the more our chances of landing it were fading. I had no option but to try and use the landing net. It sure would have been a funny sight. John led the fish to the waiting net and as it neared the net, I quickly realised that this would be a fruitless exercise. With no other option, I ‘netted’ the head of the Spanish mackerel. I was very aware of the damage the teeth on these fish can do. I have seen deep lacerations on anglers’ legs and arms from these fish, even after they are dead. It wasn’t much fun knowing that this fish was still well and truly alive and it had everything in its favour too. My only option was to try and ‘tail’ the fish. After many failed attempts (and a few choice words about how I was totally unprepared for such a fish) I got a firm grip on the tail and tried to lift the fish into the boat.
It had been years since I had seen a mackerel this big. I used to chase them off Palm Island and saw a few go over the magic 60lb mark and knew that this fish was going to go close to that.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the fish finally hit the deck and congratulated John with a slimy handshake before helping John set the fish up for a few photos. At least I had remembered to bring the camera out with me. I had only just recently purchased a new wide-angle lens and this certainly helped out.
“Thank god for that” (or close enough to it) was all John could say after I told him I had enough photos. Trying to hold a heavy fish and follow my suggestions was not an easy feat. Smaller fish are always easier to photograph, both for the angler and the photographer.
To add to the chaos, I hadn’t brought my large esky out either. Rather, I opted to use one of the 90lt front sections built into the boat. I had a block of ice in there but this was meant for the longtail tuna. Needless to say, the mackerel wouldn’t fit and we had to cut it in half to squeeze it in. Saltwater was poured in to create a brine and that was it.
It wasn’t long after that, what had unfolded started to sink in, both for John and I.
Here we were, offshore in a little 4.1 mtr boat fishing only fly and we managed to land a fish such as this. Shit, I used to chase these things off Palm Island using TLD 25’s spooled with 60lb braid and 105lb single strand wire towing gars rigged on wogheads with 8/0 hooks and even then we would lose a few.
Here we were with a #10 fly rod, 60lb mono and a Clouser tied on a 4/0 hook!
John gains some line on the fish. Note the angle of the rod. Laying the rod over in a sideways motion allows the angler to apply a lot more pressure on the fish. A handy technique particularly in this situation.
I was in half a mind to just pack up and head home straight away, but John was keen for some more action. I motored over to another patch of reef and rock to tangle with some of the resident giant trevally. To say we got humbled would be an understatement. We must have hooked well over 15 fish and we couldn’t get one to the boat. Between getting busted off, throwing hooks and breaking gudebrod loops, the resident population of giant trevally left me questioning why I was only using a #7. Not really, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Out of interest, the mackerel went 27kg and provided many mackerel steaks. I actually cooked some up using a recipe from ‘Flavours of Sea and Sun’ – a cookbook produced by fellow Fish and Boat scribe, Anthony Davies.
Now, with new fly line loops, heavier leaders and more Clouser fly’s, it’s time to get back out on the water and try to teach those trevally a lesson…..
