John ‘Bear’ Willis steps outside the square to discover new fishing experiences
The comfort zone is a lovely place to be. We work all of our lives to establish a safe place where we can feel comfortable and secure, and for many it’s hard to break away to the unknown. Even our fishing habits can become routine and mundane continually returning to the same old pier, fishing hole, river or lake. It may be in the company of the same friend, a group of mates, familiar faces on the pier or maybe just enjoying your own quiet time. Your comfortable place may be successful, maybe not – it doesn’t really matter so long as we are enjoying some quality fishing time. I’m calling it the ‘Cheers Syndrome’ after the long running TV series based on a group of friends that simply enjoyed the comfort of familiarity.
There’s nothing wrong with Cheers Syndrome either, in fact it’s a friendly place where we all feel at home. Yet stepping outside the square will unfold treasures both old and new. For many it can be a giant leap, literally! I always thought my early years of surfing, fishing and travelling had led me to great experiences until I caught up with a young fella I had met previously on a fishing and boating trip to the Murray River. He travels the world for extreme sports such as base jumping, wingsuit flying, wake surfing and boarding, snow boarding and a host of other radical adventures that mostly put a shiver up my spine.
Yet it reminded me that fishing trips can open doors to other sides of life. These experiences can range from the ridiculous to the sublime. On the less radical side of the scale, I’m reminded of waking up in my swag on a recent fishing trip to a secluded lake, with an unusual range of sounds emanating within metres from my cocoon. I zipped down the rear canvas window to see a male lyrebird in full plume performing its beautiful mating ritual, loudly broadcasting its full repertoire seemingly oblivious to my presence. It was a beautiful experience that will stay with me always. If you’ve never seen it live then Google it – it’s simply amazing.
We are all heartened by the triumphant return of our southern bluefin tuna stocks over recent years and some are even being caught in the entrances to my local Port Phillip and Westernport Bays. On a recent trip in pursuit of the tuna, a pod of whales decided to join us for an hour long frolic. It warmed the heart to have such close interaction with them as these great mammals frolicked playfully, seemingly enjoying our company.
Many years ago I was a long way offshore in a smallish boat on a beautiful, calm and sunny day when all hell broke loose around me. A bait ball had been driven up and taken shelter under my hull. It was pushed to the surface by seals and dolphins and met from above by sea birds diving like kamikaze pilots. Suddenly a very large marlin joined the fray smashing the surface with massive bill slashes stunning the bait. Its huge dorsal fin sliced through the surface as it feasted on the herded bait school. Yet the biggest shock came when a massive great white shark erupted like a tomahawk missile fully out of the water just off our rear quarter. At first I took it for an orca with its massive bulk easily as long as our boat and a girth the size of a pair of 44 gallon drums. This was nature at its most awesome!
Quite a few years ago a huge school of Australian salmon visited our local metropolitan waters. I was working them from the southern end of the school along with a great many others enjoying the tussles of these great little battlers, especially on light gear. I had a radio call from a mate of mine who was working the same school of fish to the north, some three kilometres away! Just imagine the enormity of that biomass.
Bear tries out a few new fishing experiences to rediscover the excitement it can bring
Yet fishing has its softer sides as well. Like peering into penguin rookeries on the way down to a rock fishing platform, the hypnotic wave action on a white sandy beach, and watching the magnificent sea eagles and ospreys glide the uplifting breeze before a tactical strike on some unsuspecting prey. There are sensations like the foggy chill of a winter’s morning, breaking the ice puddles before casting into a trickling headwater in search of a wily trout; the colours of sunrises and sunsets over the ocean or high in the mountains. You’ve got to love paddling up a coastal estuary with the bullrushes closing in around you surrounded by the continual crash and russle of unseen inhabitants. The chilly spectre of that unsuspected crocodile that steels a barra at your feet, or simply sticks its nose up at you from your riverside loft knowing full well that you are its targeted next meal.
Then there’s the serenity. A hike through a dense forest in search of that hidden unfished mecca. The mateship shared simply wetting a line on a riverbank, and the family bonding of your daughter catching her first fish. Fishing outside your comfort zone promotes the exploration of new destinations, meeting new friends and trying new tackle, methods and technology. You can tune your adventures to be as tough or as easy as you like it, taking in other ventures, sports and activities along the way. But slipping away from the mundane certainly brings new life. If you think fishing is all about the catching, then think again.
