After that we were off to get live bait. No live bait sold around here so if you want it you have to get it yourself. It's been a long time since I've cast a cast-net after bait and I have to confess having never been much good at it, but assuming I'd be put on trial during the trip I'd practiced quite a bit back home in Minnesota and gotten to be at least reasonable. Still, considering my brother and father's high standards I wasn't volunteering myself for ridicule unless I had to so as long as Paul was willing I'd stand back and admire.
When we pulled up at his "mullet spot" Paul quietly told me to stay in the truck, handed me a serious knife, and told me to stab first and ask questions later if somebody jumped in the vehicle or gave us some trouble. It was a small tidal tributary of the Cairns inlet and we were up behind the showgrounds, not far from a vagrant village (read slum) and in an area known for trouble after the sun went down. We were downstream from a spot I was more familiar with and Paul told me he doesn't chase bait there anymore because he gets too many used syringes in his net, although he still had to keep a keen eye out where we were now, (gotta love the city Cairns has become).
Watching Paul with a cast-net was inspiring. He knew where the bait would be, snuck up perfectly undetected and, at the last instant, popped up and had the net falling over the fish in a perfect circle before I could blink. I doubt there are many guides out there as knowledgeable and skillful when it comes to obtaining bait. After a few minutes we had all the bait we'd need and were off to the ramp.
Driving in we kept an eye out for broken glass (indications of cars having been broken into recently) and were happy to see none. Still we made sure nothing of value was left in the car. Paul had the boat in the water in no time and it was obvious he had done this so many times he had a flawless, easy system. Again, I just sat back and did what I was told. There was no moon, no other trailers were at the ramp and Paul calmly steered us towards the myriad of mangrove creeks feeding into the back of the Cairns Inlet.
Paul had one spot in mind for the particular tide and, again with meticulous precision, quickly had the boat positioned perfectly between three goods snags on an attractive point with our two anchors positioning us in the tidal current. Almost as efficiently, Paul had five rods out strategically positioned in the paths of the fish that would be shortly moving through on the tide. He even made the call that we'd have a jack in the boat in the upcoming thirty minutes. Now, I have to clarify something here. Plenty of people (perhaps most people) go out fishing and only hope that maybe they'll get a jack in the course of a trip. Many, if not most times there are no jacks caught so calling fish is a pretty cocky thing to do.
Sure enough though, we'd barely settled into the relaxing silence of laying back and watching the quivering rod tips when a reel SCREAMED off. Mangrove jack are noted for the initial run which is often from a fish that is already running straight into a snag. Just from the reel Paul called it as a jack and he was right. The tenacious fighter was a good omen and the tide had only just started to run. He was a touch under size so was quickly released. A little later it was my turn and once I picked up the rod the fish was already well and truly hooked. The tackle we were using was stout to ensure we'd have a chance if the fish got into snags or a barra jumped on, but even on 20 and 30 lbs line these fish fight and fight and fight. I'd only caught big jacks on the reef from deep water with heavy handlines where the fight is somewhat muffled so it was a pleasant revelation catching this guy up in the mangroves.
My first Mangrove Jack of the night. You'll notice that after the heat of Burketown I was rugged up in the chilly (it's all relative!!!) 20+ degree C (70 degree F) night air.A little later my rod (I must also mention that Paul generously allowed me to take the three rods attached to baits swimming in the most likely spots) bent over again, this time to a slightly better fish and then again to another good sized jack. Oh yeh, did I mention there was also non-stop action with "junk" fish such as catfish (between 5 and 10 pounds) and Paul "scored" a big old shark (about a five footer). Still, they don't count. For whatever reason Paul somehow managed to drop five probably jacks. Sometimes things just don't go your way. I did tighten up the drag slightly from the way he'd set them on my rods but I doubt that accounted for the difference.
The Biggest of my three Mangrove Jacks for the night
That's some REALLY GOOD eating right there.Now, those of you that know me know I'm usually a catch-release guy, but I'm not strict about it, especially when the fish taste as good as these guys. For any Americans reading this, they are the same genus as your Red Snapper and I think they taste even better than that. For the Aussies, they are the same genus as both Red Emperor and Fingermark Reds, so that's some pretty good blood lines, when it comes to taste and fighting ability.
We fished through dawn, which was spectacular, but caught only catfish. Our baits were being constantly attacked by tiddlers and when Paul finally boated a small barracuda we knew we were done. When the tide had been at it's best there was so much commotion with bait jumping and big swirls and sploshes all over the place it was almost surprising we only had three jacks in the esky (cooler) but it could have easily been more.
Dawn looking south towards Yarrabah from the western end of the Cairns InletWe fished again, this time with the old man, the following night but apart from a good jack boated by Paul the results weren't as good. Still it was great to get out see Paul's old stomping grounds and he still had the jacks pretty well dialed in.
Paul getting a photo of a snag he's woken up to many times in the past, just before we pulled the anchors and headed back to the ramp.
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