BETWEEN THE WEIRS

As regular readers will know, some of my favourite fishing haunts are to the west of Wagga Wagga. The Murrumbidgee River through the western Riverina is heavily regulated with three major weirs (Berembed, Yanco and Gogeldrie) and a web of canals feeding the agriculture in the region. Located on the edge of the plains, Narrandera is the ideal base to explore this region and offers excellent camping, fishing and boating opportunities.

An abundance of publicly accessible riverfront with a mixture of State Forest and Crown Reserves, gives the fisherman a selection of different water to target fish. The water above the weir walls is deep and slow, whilst downstream of the weirs, the water runs fast and comparatively shallow.

With Riverina Sportfishing, I am always on the lookout for new water to give my clients the best possible fishing and recently an opportunity arose where I was able to have a days fishing with Ian Wooden, who works for NSW Fisheries in Narrandera. We decided to fish a fresh section of water for both of us located about half way between Gogeldrie and Yanco weirs. Conveniently, there is a concrete boat ramp exactly where we planned to fish.

At the ramp, we were greeted by air temperature just above freezing, fog reducing visibility to fifty metres, and water which was almost still, clear and clean. The water temperature was a brisk eight degrees, which isn’t ideal conditions to chase native fish, however Ian and I are fishing optimists and it would take more than a bit of icy weather to dampen our enthusiasm.

We opted to motor a couple of kilometres upstream to start fishing away from where most people concentrate their efforts. This part of the river is also where the water starts to flow again.

Idling back off the plane, the boat settled into the water as we readied our lures. Our plan of attack was to troll the deep banks and bends with hard body lures, and cast spinnerbaits to the larger logs. The trolling plan was scuttled at the first glance of the depth sounder, as the average water depth was 70cm and the holes were barely long enough to get a decent cast across. We didn’t waste much time looking for trolling runs and plan B was set in motion.

The electric motor on the bow of the boat was lowered into the water and our stealthy approach to each snag commenced. With Ian on the front casting deck and myself planted on the rear deck, we methodically worked every snag until we were convinced that no hungry fish were in residence.

As expected in the cold conditions, the fish were very slow and the first hour of fishing failed to produce a fish. I manoeuvred the boat within range of a massive log which Ian took first cast at. His lure escaped without incident however my lure following a few metres behind was eaten in no uncertain terms by a powerful fish.

The chill disappeared as the adrenalin surged through my body. The fish burrowed for the safety of the snags below but I cranked down hard on the drag and turned the fish before it got home. The fish didn’t give up and continued to power back toward cover. Again I turned the fish and within a few seconds it was beaten beside the boat.

The fish was a 45cm trout cod (a protected species) which despite its size, is a fierce adversary on the end of the rod. With the close quarters fishing style we adopted this day, the battle is over quickly with the fish either reaching its snag, or posing for a photograph.

It’s always a relief to get the first fish of the day and we glided upstream eager to tempt another.

Rounding a sharp bend we found a big, old snag which from the angle of entry was lying in a deep hole. To us, it was a beacon that said ‘fish here’. Our spinnerbaits landed simultaneously and with welling anticipation we commenced our retrieves. Unsuccessful with the first cast, we continued to work the snag from top to bottom (with waning interest), when after some minutes I changed my retrieve to a ‘burn and stop’.

This did the trick for as soon as I stopped the fast wind, a fish smacked the lure and bolted away. I had a lot of weight on the rod and whilst my mind was wishing for a 10kg Murray cod, I knew it was likely that another trout cod was the culprit. The 15kg braid sang as I muscled the fish into clear water. Ian did the honours with the lip gripper and a very respectable 53cm trout cod was lifted aboard.

Following these two fish we struggled to get bites mainly due to a lack of suitable structure and the water getting progressively shallower to the point where we could only just get the boat through.

Ian and I are both victims of ‘next bend syndrome’ and through to lunchtime we kept pushing further and further upstream trying to find better water. A beach loomed out of the fog in front of us and expecting shallows, we were surprised to find a 200m stretch of deep snaggy water. Given that the surrounding water for some distance was knee deep, we theorised that any resident fish would have to be hiding in this area.

The first log was a gnarly, hollow log about one metre in diameter, Ian smiled as he launched a cast before I was in range. The Mud Guts Spinnerbait (which he borrowed from me) splashed down millimetres from the log, blades spinning as it sank. As soon as Ian commenced the retrieve he struck and hooked up solidly to a fish.

The slightly smaller trout cod at 40cm was a welcome sight as we had not landed a fish for a couple of hours. Again, we were buoyed by this instant success and enthusiastically worked the length of the hole several times through the afternoon landing another three fish and enjoying regular bites.

The reality of fishing in June was apparent as darkness started to descend mid afternoon, robbing us of valuable daylight. We needed enough light to motor the 5km back to the car and unfortunately had to leave the fish biting as navigating in the dark would be too treacherous.

Much of NSW is still in drought and the low water levels in the Murrumbidgee are a reflection of this predicament. However, with a bit of research to find deep water to fish in, and by taking your time to navigate through the shallows, the fish are still there and they are hungry.

Although it shortens your fishing time, the short, cold days allow plenty of time to sit by the fire and discuss the events of the day. You won’t get as many fish in winter, but its rewarding fishing, with the clear water allowing the odd opportunity to see the fish swim out and eyeball your lure. And best of all is that you will rarely see anyone else as most people are sitting at home in front of the heater. I know where I would rather be.

© Jamin Forbes June 2007