The time came to take her out on the Bay. Old Mate Andrew was in and all was prepared. Picked up (woke up) Andrew at 6am and was at the boat ramp by mid 7.
We launched at Wellington Point and made our way up through Moreton Bay to Amity Point. On the way up we stopped off at Pots Point and caught a few Whiting. We weren’t catching much else, and apart from Andrew thinking he was jinxed, I think it was just because we just missed the morning tide.
We stopped off at Dunwich on North Stradbroke Island for some beer and then continued up to Amity point.
While we were there we parked the boat on a sand dune in the middle of the bay and cooked up some fresh fillets and hot dogs. It was crazy. There we were in the the middle of Moreton bay, with the boat parked up on a mound of sand surrounded by 360 degree of ocean. There were Soldier Crabs running around everywhere. It was very surreal. A definite postcard moment.
Then from there, with our bellys full of beer, fish and hot dogs (thank God the boat was not enclosed) we then headed south to Peel Island and fished off Hercules ship wreck.
This proved to be not such a great fishing spot. I got a Tailor and also a fish that resembled a love child from a Predator and Alien movie. Later we discovered it was a protected Wobleygong or something. Lucky I threw it back instead of beating it to death with a frozen clump of Pillies in order to save the world from an assumed Alien/Predator attack.
The sun was on it’s way down, and we were 1 kg down on bait and not many fish to show for it. We decided to end the day at our favorite secret Tailor Fishing Spot.
As the sun went down the sunset was mesmerizing, we had a bit of a snack, and then it was time to get back to fishing.
To say that the fish were hungry would be an understatement. As each line was cast into the water, we were either pulling in a tailor of swearing due to having our bait taken. It was on!!!! In the next 45 min we pulled in close to 15 Tailor and the only reason we stopped was cos we ran out of bait.
I ended up using a new lure, and caught 2 Pike, which was hilarious cos if you ever saw these things they look like a small sword fish about 20cm long with 400 teeth like a creature from a B -Grade movie.
I pulled one into the boat and Andrew jumped up on the seat like some housewife running from a mouse. I of course had no idea what I had caught so in response from Andrew’s reaction I screamed when it unhooked itself and fell flapping on the boat’s floor near my feet with it’s teeth glaring.
It must have looked very interesting from a distance. There we were, one grown man a good part of 100kg jumped up on a boat seat and another, not far off 100kg with his ankles pulled up over his shoulders screaming like 2 school girls.
It wasn’t too hard to notice us dancing about as my boat has more lights than a Silvers Circus tent on opening night and we were all lit up about 50 meters from shore. Of course it was over as quick as it started and when we both realised we were in no immediate danger, all was well again.
All in all, a good day. I was absolutely rooted by the time I got home and the next day I couldn’t even move.
Have to do it again soon !!!
(insert smiley here)
Monday, July 6, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Summerset Damn!!!
Well what can I say.
She runs like a dream. Camping was great other than a bit of rain.
I took Herc down to the dam with me with his boat just in case I needed to be towed back due to a breakdown. But all was well. There was only a few minor hick ups but I will get to that later.
There was a problem with the electric trim, but turns out I already knew about this before hand and with a little lifting, it was easily by-passed. The seals on the hydraulics for the electric trim were stuffed and this meant the engine had to be lifted manually. No biggy though.
The only drawback was the first day we took her out. There was Herc and I pushing her in at the end of the ramp, and Herc suggested as the boat floated out, for me to jump in and he will push me out so I can start her mid drift.
So there I was, standing in the boat, on her maiden voyage, floating backwards into the dam, turning the key to fire her up. As she was a bit cold, it was taking a bit to start. There was no urgency though as there was nothing in the dam for me to bump into. So I continued to turn the key and listen to the engine try and turn over.
Problem was, I started to feel a bit of water lapping on the back of my ankles. Now, I am no seasoned fisherman, but I can assume that the water is meant to be outside of the boat. I turned around and saw that the boat was half filling up with water.
I then turned to Herc who was still standing on the ramp watching me float away and he knew by the look on my face I was in trouble. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Now, 7 years in the Army and 3 kids under my belt have rewarded me with patience and great ability to act calmly under pressure. Great lengths have gone into training my mind to remain calm and act swiftly and precisely in times such as these. Nothing short of a nuclear bomb going off would sway me from my steadfast leadership qualities and Military General likeness in times of need.
Well, my calm and Presidential response to Herc was “Um, Mate. There seems to be water in the boat.”
The next 6 words to come form Herc’s mouth will go down in history as “the weapon that took down Major Bermingham” and destroyed years and years of training and possibly hundreds of thousands of tax payers dollars.
“Have you put the bungs in?” was the controlled yell all the way from the boat ramp.
Well, my head snapped back and my eyes flew across to the small holes in the rear of the boat where the bungs go. Unfortunately, in this case, my bungs had not in fact been put in and water was flowing into the boat like a river.
Procedure was out the window, calmness was no longer a physical trait and became just a word, I then became a mere shadow of my former self. I heard a small child scream in the distance and it wasn’t until a few seconds later that I had realised it was I who was screaming. I then turned the key on and off with my right hand and with my left hand I pulled the choke in and out faster than a 10 year old pumping up his tyre on his bike. My right leg tried to stretch back to somehow get a toe (or two) to block the flow of water, but this was done in vain due to the holes being a good 2 meters away.
“Don’t flood the engine you idiot!!” was Herc’s well thought out words of encouragement. I don’t remember my response, not due to any form of post traumatic stress, but mainly because the sounds coming from my mouth were a cross between a person having an asthma attack and a bulldog trying to make love to a bowl of porridge.
After what seemed like a long time the engine finally turned over and I was able to put her in gear and come back to the ramp. We loaded the boat back on the trailer and waited for the water to pour back out the bung holes before launching her again.
Other than this small hitch, it was a great Maiden Voyage.
(Post Memo) since this traumatic experience I have left the bungs out 2 more times. I am thinking of therapy or a possible lobotomy. Just getting quotes at this stage.
(Insert smiley Here)
She runs like a dream. Camping was great other than a bit of rain.
I took Herc down to the dam with me with his boat just in case I needed to be towed back due to a breakdown. But all was well. There was only a few minor hick ups but I will get to that later.
There was a problem with the electric trim, but turns out I already knew about this before hand and with a little lifting, it was easily by-passed. The seals on the hydraulics for the electric trim were stuffed and this meant the engine had to be lifted manually. No biggy though.
The only drawback was the first day we took her out. There was Herc and I pushing her in at the end of the ramp, and Herc suggested as the boat floated out, for me to jump in and he will push me out so I can start her mid drift.
So there I was, standing in the boat, on her maiden voyage, floating backwards into the dam, turning the key to fire her up. As she was a bit cold, it was taking a bit to start. There was no urgency though as there was nothing in the dam for me to bump into. So I continued to turn the key and listen to the engine try and turn over.
Problem was, I started to feel a bit of water lapping on the back of my ankles. Now, I am no seasoned fisherman, but I can assume that the water is meant to be outside of the boat. I turned around and saw that the boat was half filling up with water.
I then turned to Herc who was still standing on the ramp watching me float away and he knew by the look on my face I was in trouble. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Now, 7 years in the Army and 3 kids under my belt have rewarded me with patience and great ability to act calmly under pressure. Great lengths have gone into training my mind to remain calm and act swiftly and precisely in times such as these. Nothing short of a nuclear bomb going off would sway me from my steadfast leadership qualities and Military General likeness in times of need.
Well, my calm and Presidential response to Herc was “Um, Mate. There seems to be water in the boat.”
The next 6 words to come form Herc’s mouth will go down in history as “the weapon that took down Major Bermingham” and destroyed years and years of training and possibly hundreds of thousands of tax payers dollars.
“Have you put the bungs in?” was the controlled yell all the way from the boat ramp.
Well, my head snapped back and my eyes flew across to the small holes in the rear of the boat where the bungs go. Unfortunately, in this case, my bungs had not in fact been put in and water was flowing into the boat like a river.
Procedure was out the window, calmness was no longer a physical trait and became just a word, I then became a mere shadow of my former self. I heard a small child scream in the distance and it wasn’t until a few seconds later that I had realised it was I who was screaming. I then turned the key on and off with my right hand and with my left hand I pulled the choke in and out faster than a 10 year old pumping up his tyre on his bike. My right leg tried to stretch back to somehow get a toe (or two) to block the flow of water, but this was done in vain due to the holes being a good 2 meters away.
“Don’t flood the engine you idiot!!” was Herc’s well thought out words of encouragement. I don’t remember my response, not due to any form of post traumatic stress, but mainly because the sounds coming from my mouth were a cross between a person having an asthma attack and a bulldog trying to make love to a bowl of porridge.
After what seemed like a long time the engine finally turned over and I was able to put her in gear and come back to the ramp. We loaded the boat back on the trailer and waited for the water to pour back out the bung holes before launching her again.
Other than this small hitch, it was a great Maiden Voyage.
(Post Memo) since this traumatic experience I have left the bungs out 2 more times. I am thinking of therapy or a possible lobotomy. Just getting quotes at this stage.
(Insert smiley Here)
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