MAD DOG(S) & ENGLISHMEN - 4WD Polaroiding In The Noonday Sun

Anyone who fishes lakes regularly will attest to the time-honoured traditions of early morning starts and late evening finishes. Like countless other anglers, I have faithfully supported this tradition for as long as I’ve been fishing.

More recently, I started to look closely at some of my previously unquestioned fishing habits and, in the ever-present desire to improve my success rate, focussed on the above-mentioned starting & finishing times. Going back over my years of fishing diaries, I noticed that I was in fact fairly rigid about when I fished. Had I been asked at the time, I would have responded that I was pretty relaxed about the whole thing and pretty much fished when I felt like it, but of course, the diaries don’t lie.

This whole business of starting fishing early in the morning, is based around the concept that ‘the early bird gets the worm’, a rationale which itself is based around another concept – that fish in general, and trout in particular, favour periods of low light for their inshore feeding habits, with lower light offering a measure of security to the fish feeding in shallow water.

Now, having been faithful in keeping my diaries in reasonable detail, I noted a number of instances where I had, for one reason or another, been on the water at times outside the ‘usual’ attendance times, such as in the middle of a hot summer afternoon, where otherwise I would be back at base prepping my gear for the evening rise.
My sole reason for recording those particular attendances was simply that I had, on each occasion, observed one or two larger-than-usual trout cruising fairly close inshore, and presenting an ideal target. On some of those occasions, I had caught the fish in question, and in each instance, these fish were noticeably larger than the average fish encountered during those ‘normal’ periods.

In thinking about the possibilities, I identified the period from 10am through to 4pm as being the time during which, this being the period during which I had observed these larger trout. Using the Jindabyne winter polaroiding technique as a comparison, I theorised that perhaps the common denominator was not actually seasonal, but related to light intensity. This gave rise to the above time bracket, and which also started me thinking more seriously in this direction.
Earlier attempts to discuss my theory with some of my usual fishing companions had resulted in the expected comments, most describing an alleged condition relating to sun-induced madness, but I was convinced I wasn’t wasting my time.

Selecting a suitably hot day, cloudless and with only a light breeze, I drove my 4WD down to a favourite stretch of shoreline on Lake Eucumbene, and began driving very slowly along the barren shoreline, closely watching the inshore stretch of water with the aid of my polarised sunglasses. I was now 4WD polaroiding!

Let me say now that it took only 100 metres of driving before I spotted my first fish – a handsome specimen of some 60cm length of Brown Trout, and equally good eyesight who bolted the moment the vehicle stopped and I stepped out.
Lesson #1 – watch your sun orientation and direction of travel!

Driving again, I had covered only 50 metres more before I saw the next customer, another Brown, somewhat smaller, around 45cm long. This time I stopped further away, leapt from the vehicle with rod in hand, and having previously affixed a Keam Poly Hopper to the leader, presented the fly lightly on the water some 3m in front of the fish. Right at the crucial moment he seemed to spot something on the bottom, and down he went for a look. The water was only a metre deep right there, so a slight twitch was all that was needed to bring him back to the surface for a solid gulp. A rapid lift of the tip and he was stripping line, racing for deeper water. After a good fight and a gentle release, I allowed him to resume his flight.

As I straightened to stand, a movement along the shore caught my eye. A rise. Regaining my kneeling stance, I watched carefully for sight of the riser, but nothing. After another minute, I thought maybe he had gone to deeper water, and began to stand again. Just as I was about fully stood, a huge swirl almost at my feet told me that I had misread the whole deal, and the fish had in fact swum immediately toward me after rising, and I had spooked him as I stood. Damn!

Back in the car, I resumed my travel. This whole episode had covered only a half hour. As I neared a small gravelly beach, I remembered there was a large yabby bed in this particular bay, so decided to simply sit and watch for a short while. I focussed my attention on the water right where the ripple line began. I could see the whole bottom quite easily from here, as the sun was almost perpendicular by now.
This was when occurred one of those peculiar events that must happen regularly in the world of fish, but of course we humans see it only occasionally, so consider it extraordinary.
Another Brown Trout eventually entered my field of view, travelling left to right with the ripple line just to his left. As he approached the yabby bed, I noticed that he dropped into a small gutter, which made him difficult to track visually. Momentarily I  lost sight of him, but then saw a white flash at his approximate location. Alighting from the vehicle, I crept a little closer, keeping low.
Again, the white flash, then a swirl of silt, and a fleeting small shape that seemed to disappear into the bottom. Yabbies – he’s chasing yabbies!
The pieces fell into place – this would probably be his regular cruising patch – an extended cruise for terrestrials along the tree-less shoreline until he came upon the yabby bed, then down to the bottom for his daily calcium intake.

I wondered if he would still bother with a measly ‘hopper after a feed of lobster? Casting the ‘hopper halfway out to the ripple line, I shook out some excess line, so that the breeze would carry it out further. It only floated a metre past the ripple when down it went – I didn’t even see him coming, and almost missed what was a fairly subtle take of a ‘hopper. As I began to lift the rod, I saw the ‘hopper come away from his mouth, and almost cursed until I saw him do a full turn and come back for it! Because I had continued the lift, the hopper had begun to move back to the surface and although he did come after it, he was suspicious by now and turned away.
I quickly recast, placing the fly another few metres away, in his new direction of travel. He must have seen the landing, as he came up immediately, but turned down when only a half metre away, swimming away rapidly. Maybe he knew that real ‘hoppers can’t swim that good …

I got back into the car and drove slowly on, scanning the close-inshore water for more fish. Eventually I came to a rocky outcrop that prohibited further vehicle travel, and turned around to retrace my steps. So far I had covered only about 300 metres, but had gained some valuable support for my theory, and decided that when my next guiding party arrived the day after tomorrow, I would give this search technique another shot. With luck, this brilliant weather would hold and the conditions remain ideal for polaroiding.

The three anglers to arrive were all ‘new’ fly anglers, a trio of English blokes who had earlier in the year attended one of my weekend fly fishing schools on the Goulburn River, and were dead keen to catch their first lake trout on a fly, particularly on a dry fly.

I spent the intervening day trying to affirm the success of the previous day, but began to think I had imagined it all, as I couldn’t even buy a trout on that stretch of water that day! Not a rise anywhere, nor a sign of a cruising fish. Desperate, I fished on through the day, well into the evening. Not a rise to be seen during those crucial hours leading up to full darkness.
Now I was worried about my new theory, thinking that perhaps I had happened upon a ‘one day wonder’ that happened to mirror some unusual happenings from the previous season.

A new day – a workday for a fishing guide, because in a couple of hours, my three clients would arrive hungry to fish the waters of Lake Eucumbene. Every angler knows the torturing excitement of planning a trip for the next season and having to wait months until the day arrives until you finally see new water for the very first time, hoping it will look at least as good as in all those magazine photos you’ve pored over a hundred times.

They arrived just before lunch, and within an hour, they were settled into their cabin accommodation at Adaminaby, indulged in a pillow fight over who got the bottom bunk, murdered the gourmet lunch I had carefully set out for them, and were waiting impatiently in the vehicle, waiting only on one thing – their guide! I’ve never seen three blokes in their 50s move so fast.  Yielding to their impatient pleas, I abandoned my usual tidying efforts and buckled myself in, and we were away.

Now, it would really be a waste of time for me to relate the scene as these blokes reacted to the sight of the lake as we crested the last rise on the road in, as I know all of you have almost certainly experienced this feeling yourselves. Suffice to say I had three very excited 50-some year old kids in my car. Had one of them been behind the wheel, I daresay the vehicle would have literally flown down the hill to the water!

On that short drive downhill, I explained the situation with my new theory, and they insisted that we employ it immediately, not next day or day after, as I had proposed. Their reasoning was that since I had had immediate success with it, why stop there? I had not been able to interrupt them long enough to explain the following day’s lack of fish, and before I could dampen their enthusiasm any, we were standing by the water, looking intently into the clear alpine lake.

I suggested they assemble their gear and begin some practice casting – ‘limbering up’ before the real thing.
It was by now just after 1pm, and the sun high and hot. Water glare was intense, and protection from the sun paramount. We had barely completed the ‘slip, slop, slap‘ process when one of the group hooted excitedly, pointing to the water opposite us. And there it lay – a trout of respectable proportions, its spots livid in the bright sunlight and clear water. From where we stood, we could clearly see it moving its jaws around a sizeable yabby, legs and claws protruding.
Within seconds, one of the group had begun casting, the result being a cloud of silt and a single large blue claw slowly spiralling to the bottom. The line had landed in a heap directly over the top of the trout. Oops.

This gave further urgency to the group’s mission, and we quickly moved through the practice casting until I was satisfied they were really ‘cast-ready’, and we jumped back in the vehicle for the next phase.
Once more cruising the shoreline, but now with four pairs of eyes doing the looking, it didn’t take long to locate the next fish. I nominated John as the first caster -  he didn’t need any urging to take up a casting position. Right at that moment, another fish hove into view, some thirty metres to the right of the first, roughly in our line of advance. I nominated Alan as the next lucky angler, and he was quickly positioning as per my earlier instruction, with the sun slightly behind, and the fish to the front. John had not yet cast, but was still patiently waiting for the fish to come within range.
Virtually at the same moment, three things happened. Both anglers cast, and a PAIR of Browns appeared further to the right, this time just under the surface! There was no need to nominate anyone this time around – Graeme quickly adopted a casting stance and within thirty seconds, had a well aimed if slightly long cast on the water.

At this point, I might say that my previous day’s fears had been mightily dispelled – the ‘off day’ was just that, one ‘off’ day, and today seemed to be back to normal.

It would be great to say that within some minutes, three magnificent trout lay gasping on the wet grass of the shoreline waiting to be released, but it is only fair for me to remind the readers that these three blokes are all typical of anyone catching their first trout on a fly (or trying to!), and mistakes happen – what actually transpired was that there were three takes and three strikes within seconds of each other. The end result was two trout caught and kept and one missed on the strike, but still an excellent result for them and me.
Apart from another hour of fishing during which we saw several more fish but caught only one, the rest of the day was actually spent back at the bar at Adaminaby toasting their success and graduation to the ranks of ‘blooded’ lake fishermen.
These are not your ‘gung ho’ variety of fishermen, but more typical of those who have perhaps sensibly sorted their priorities, and thus are happy to accept their successes in smaller, more manageable lots, with plenty of attributing of kudos, red wine, good food and a great deal of talking of future assured successes.
By the end of their stay at Lake Eucumbene, these three anglers had spent nearly five days establishing themselves as possibly the three happiest people on the planet. And they had caught and eaten a trout each, and released several more. They had achieved several goals each, and according to them, life was indeed wonderful.

Myself, I have this other theory about fishing sunk ‘hoppers, you see….
FACT BOXES:

1. 4WD SAFETY

• If you decide to give this search technique a shot, use common sense – make sure your vehicle comes to a complete halt before allowing your passenger/s to alight, and make sure they’re clear of the vehicle before moving off again.
• Don’t travel with doors open or with arms protruding from the vehicle.
• Remember that you will be driving on a reasonably sensitive area of land, so don’t forget to keep an eye out for wash-outs, culverts, debris, wildlife,  and of course, anglers.
• Do the right thing, ask for permission to access private property, and retire gracefully if refused.

 

2. GOOD LENS COLOUR FOR POLAROIDING TROUT

I normally carry 2 pairs of polaroids – a tan-lensed pair for general polaroiding work, and a yellow-lensed pair for polaroiding in dull weather or lower light conditions. In extremely bright conditions, blue mirror lenses offer a noticeable improvement over tan lenses.

3. GOOD FLIES/TIMES OF YEAR

Best time and flies for polaroiding?
Summer/Autumn:
Terrestrials such as Soldier Beetles, Grasshoppers, Gum Beetles, Ti Tree Beetles, Jassids, Ichneumon Wasps, plus Midges wet or dry.
Late Spring:
Wets mostly, such as Mrs Simpson, New England Yabby, Fuzzy Wuzzy, Hamills Killer, Fur Fly, Woolly Bugger – anything that emulates mudeyes, yabbies & small fish - plus Midges wet or dry.

 

**This article has been previously published in ‘Freshwater Fishing’ magazine.