LAKE ALBERT : COD IN THE BURBS

The water level in Wagga Wagga's Lake Albert shrank to one metre during the 2002/3 drought, described as the worst in 100 years. As drought raged through the summer, Marty Asmus and I pursued new methods (apart from lure trolling) for catching the huge cod that lived in the shallow, murky water of the lake.

I dabbled with dropping baits a long way from the bank in the boat and tying up to the bank-side willows with some success. I wanted to test a theory that this would work better if the boat were anchored out in the middle.

The two 10kg lead 'dongers' speared simultaneously into the soft mud, securing the boat in the middle of the lake on a stinking hot Saturday afternoon. Marty and I nervously looked at the myriad of ski-boats and jet-ski's that were forced from their normal circumnavigation by my small tinny now anchored in their path. After a few minutes of watching, and satisfied that we weren't going to be run over, we selected the biggest of the fresh bardi grubs, secured them to a 6/0 wide gap hook, and lobbed them around the boat. Given that we were anchored 200m from the bank, we were unsure if the cod would be this far from the willow trees, which provide the only structure in the featureless lake.

Ever optimistic, we watched the lines. Our wait was short as Marty's line started slowly pulling taut. Convinced it wasn't the wind, Marty pulled the slack out of the line and lent back into a fish. Line peeled from the reel as a powerful fish sprinted away across the surface. A 650mm cod surfaced thirty metres away, the yawning mouth threshing about in an effort to clear the hook. With no water depth to use to it's advantage, I soon slipped the net under Marty's fish and we celebrated. As I removed the hook from this fish, my rod in the back corner folded over and the drag buzzed to a positive take. I promptly dropped Marty's fish in his lap and wrestled my rod from the holder. My fish was slightly smaller than Marty's at 600mm and both were released after posing for the obligatory photograph.

A fresh pair of big juicy grubs were soon settling back on the bottom as our focus on the rods intensified. A series of undersized cod molested our baits, but the anticipation of getting a large cod heightened as big fish started rolling on the surface around the boat. Unfortunately, these behemoths were not keen on our baits and an hour later interest was waning. With little fish action, our attention turned to the bikini-clad girls skiing past, when Marty's big threadline growled into action.

The fish ripped off a heap of line before it slowed and settled into the characteristic slow head-sway. Marty beamed as the adrenalin kicked in.

'I think this is a nice one,' Marty said.

'No kidding,' I responded sarcastically.

The fish circled the boat and I frantically retrieved the other lines. The fish was eased in and I was able to net Marty's personal best cod of 820mm. The fish was released and we immediately packed up as our wives were patiently waiting for us to arrive home with takeaway for dinner. We were a bit late, but our excitement over tea must have been infectious as we were allowed to 'back-up' for another fishing session. At 5.00am the next morning we chipped fresh grubs by torchlight, and by 6.00am we were anchored in the middle of the lake with big, fat bardi's oozing grub juice into the water.

The next three hours were a stark contrast to the previous afternoon. We could not raise a scale. We moved about, tried a host of different locations and by 9.00am we found ourselves somewhat dejected.

The ski-boats were getting thicker and the boat rocked wildly as each boat passed, making it difficult to see a bite (if we got one). As yet another V8 roared past with a bevy of bikini-clad beauties on board, I noticed Marty's line slowly moving out. He eased the rod out of the holder and we sat looking stupidly at each other as the line fell slack. A couple of winds bought the line tight again, but he felt no fish. Suddenly the monofilament sprang to life and the heavy rod loaded up. This was better.

Marty put on his 'big fish' face and I immediately knew his PB cod from the previous day was about to be surpassed. A massive boil on the surface gave us a glimpse of a large paddle tail.

'Has to be bigger this one,' Marty questioned,

'It looked bigger to me,' I replied.

The fish stayed low in the water for several minutes before charging to the surface and launching its bulk across the choppy water. Marty's jaw dropped. I was at full stretch with the net and we held our breath for what felt like minutes, until the fish was safely in the net. I heaved it aboard chorused by Marty's rebel yell. At 900mm it was a beautiful fish.

The slow start to the morning had subsided and in the next hour we boated a further five cod up to 650mm, before our curfew ran out After the first fish, the smaller cod were somewhat of a let down. As the boated was loaded we planned our next trip.

The working week could not pass quick enough as we prepared ourselves for another onslaught at the lake utilising our new technique. The excitement built to a fever pitch on Friday before we received advice from NSW Waterways that the lake was closed to boating due to the low water level. Frustrated, we had to wait until the Lake filled before we could resume our fishing. Although at the end of the worst drought in 100 years, we were in for a long wait.

Some six months later, winter rains pulsed two metres of stormwater into the lake. I carefully monitored the increasing temperature of the water to a point where at 15 deg, I was certain that an early season cod may succumb to a well-presented grub.

Marty was unable to join me on this August excursion and Conrad Haggar (Hags) accompanied me for an early morning lake session. I had told Hags of my method from the summer and though sceptical of fishing in the middle of the lake, he was keen to see the method in action.

The lines were cast and within minutes Hags retrieved an undersize cod. Followed by another and another and then another. I was getting slaughtered. Fish number five for Hags buzzed a few metres of 15kg line from his reel and I took more interest when a 780mm cod surfaced beside the boat.

I remained fishless for the morning and indeed for the next few trips as I ran through a horror patch. I was dubbed 'The Tour Guide' by my fishing peers, as I supplied the boat, the bardi's, netted fish, took photo's and handed out drinks from the esky.

Determined to relinquish this title, I fished hard for the next few months and clawed my way back with respective catches from Blowering Dam, Burrinjuck Dam and Lake Albert. I had not cracked a big cod though.

Marty's work commitments slowed just prior to Christmas and we decided that we would target big cod by making a slight adjustment to our middle of the lake technique. This involved using the sounder and trolling around until we found a school of small yellowbelly. We figured that these small fish would act as a giant berley trail for any big, hungry cod.

Running small lures we moved through a patch of fish that showed in mid water on the sounder. Two rods loaded up with 30cm yellowbelly on the first pass and a triple hook-up on the second pass. Using the sounder to pinpoint our position over the school, we speared in the 'dongers' and lobbed out pre-baited grubs. I quickly managed a small cod and was killing time catching small yella's on rubber, when Marty's starboard rod bounced violently. We both focussed on the rod. Nothing happened.

Marty checked the bait and re-cast to the same spot. I continued 'tea-bagging' small yellowbelly that had taken refuge under the boat, when Marty's 15kg line cut through the water at speed.

'He's there,' I said, 'Hit him.'

Marty wound the slack in and pulled the hook into a very large fish. The thick mono crackled off the big Penn threadline with ease. We concentrated on the water, looking for a sign of the size of this fish, when it boiled about fifty metres away.

'He looks about thirty,' I said

Marty looked at me. 'Are you seeing the same fish as me?' he questioned.

As if on cue, the cod came up again and rolled. 'OK, upgrade that to fifty pound.' I said.

After staying wide of the boat for several minutes, the fish turned and headed straight for the boat, where it promptly sat on the bottom underneath us and refused to budge. For ten minutes we untangled the line from the anchor rope, the motor and the other lines that I had neglected to retrieve, before Marty was able to put some pressure on the fish and get it to the surface. Twice the big fish rolled away from the waiting net and on the third pass the line fell slack. The silence from Marty was deafening.

He asked meekly 'Did you get him?'

I lifted the long handle of the net which surfaced the biggest cod I have ever seen. Marty went weak at the knees and sat down.

'Don't just sit there, give me a hand to get this thing in.' I said.

At an estimated 80lb in the old scale and 122cm long, it was a fish that will take some beating. Apparently I had not lost my 'tour guide' status after all and promptly handed Marty a coke from the esky.

History of Wagga Wagga's Lake Albert

Prior to 1886 Lake Albert was a swamp. A public meeting in June 1886 proposed the diversion of the Stringybark and Crooked Creeks to provide a permanent water supply, with works started on the diversion in 1901. Flooding caused problems though until the 1970's and it wasn't until 1977 that the present structure of the Lake was completed.

Fish Stocking History

Significant fish numbers were first introduced into Lake Albert in 1907 when local residents captured fish from drying Murrumbidgee River billabongs and relocated them. Approximately 2000 fish of mixed species are reported being translocated.

The NSW Fisheries Hatchery at Narrandera first stocked fingerlings into Lake Albert in 1981 with a release of 28,250 yellowbelly. Since this release, stockings totalling 215,250 fish have greatly improved the fishing

Seasonal Factors

The relatively shallow water in Lake Albert (3m when full) keeps the waters significantly warmer than other deeper proximal waterways such as the Murrumbidgee River, Blowering Dam and Burrinjuck Dam. This keeps the native fish active for all but the months of June, July and the first couple of weeks in August.

The fishing starts in August with yellowbelly becoming aggressive as water levels rise. The cod are also starting to feed, with both species preferring bait in the cold water. From September to Christmas the yellowbelly form large schools and aggressively attack lures and bait. The cod are also at their most active in their closed season with many XOS specimens taking small lures aimed at yellowbelly. After Christmas, the water temperature gets extreme due to consistent 35-40 deg air temperatures and the fishing tapers off. The falling water levels in Summer make fishing tougher, but not impossible. Bait fishing seems to be more effective, but big lures run in close to the propeller stir the big green fish into action. As the water cools in Autumn, the fish feed actively again in preparation for winter.

The best time of day to fish is when the sun is high in the sky. Once it dips behind the hills the fishing slows to a halt. This midday feeding is consistent throughout the seasons.

Points of Interest

Lake Albert has two concrete launching ramps, located at Apex Park and the Wagga Wagga Boat Club. Membership is required for use of the Boat Club ramp and facilities, however the Apex Park ramp on the eastern shores is free and has excellent BBQ facilities, shade, grass and toilets for a pleasant family day.

As Lake Albert is situated in the middle of suburban Wagga Wagga, and less 10 minutes drive from anywhere in the city, visitors will have no problem finding a place to stay from tent, to pub, to five star motel, and everything in between. No camping is available on the foreshores, however even if you stay in the city centre, you are only a few minutes from the water.

The foreshore is accessible all the way around the Lake, but care should be taken on the western side, where the golf course can cause injury from wayward shots.

The Lake is open to water-sports year round, with closures only occurring at times of low water levels during drought and when special events, such as sailboat racing, powerboat racing or the triathlon are under way. A yellow flag flying from the Boat Club flagpole and an advertisement in the newspaper advises closures for special events. Two four-knot zones are observed at the northern and southern extremities of the lake. These are signposted on the shore and have yellow buoys indicating the zone borders.

© Jamin Forbes June 2004