A date in November had been nominated and a bunch of blokes, all good bastards, were invited and had accepted. Unfortunately the weather was against us and far too nasty to even contemplate chancing. Other distractions took over and the weeks passed until the realisation that unless I pulled finger, another summer would be be behind us, and another year lost. A new date was set to coincide with the availability of accomodation at Port Fitzroy, a date that unfortunately precluded many of the original crew, Bruce in Cuba, Allan under the knife for shoulder surgery, Dale pressure of work and Greenie golfing in Australia. Regulars Jeff and Dave quickly signed up, with passionate fisherman Henry eagerly accepting the invitation to make up the numbers. Templar was serviced, niggles sorted, a fresh suite of new batteries and a couple of new pumps, the usual invisible things that add credence to the folly of owning a boat, a vice that is best faced without a budget in mind. Bait bought, provisions and liquid refreshments loaded, and rods stowed (Henry had at least one weapon for every occasion), we departed Half Moon Bay for Gt Barrier, the promise of a blazing sun and duck pond, and a couple of hours of quiet time for the crew. First stop was Whangaparara Harbour, the site of an old Whaling Station, once a hard and dangerous vocation. Henry quickly earned bragging rights by hauling in a magnificent John Dory, angrily grunting before going into the Fish bin, followed by a trophy Snapper, photographed then released to bred again - great gesture Henry! Little did we know that the best of our fishing was behind us - the next couple of days were pretty tough going, and not from lack of trying, with "lucky spots" on the boat being highly prized. Rather than having a boat full of snoring fishermen each night after a day in the sun and a skinful of rehydrating over dinner, I'd booked Glenfern Cottage at Port Fitzroy for the guys, while I stayed aboard, enjoying my own company - a great choice. We dropped gear off at the Cottage, met the resident black duck who showed us around, then headed back out to enjoy a late afternoon fish - instead we were asked to assist a couple on a yacht whose anchor had become tangled in a mussel farm mooring. Good Samaritans, we tried and tried, before eventual calling on the services of an elderly but extremely personable diver, who, with a bit of direction and encouragement, was successful. So a late dinner, one or two too many bottles of Pinot later before slowly creeping back to Fitzroy weaving between unlit boats and finding our berth, ready for a few more drinks before bed. We were on the water by 7am, a breakfast of bacon and egg butties and corn fritters on the go in our eagerness for success, an eagerness that unfortunately counted for little as we tried one spot after another up and down the rugged coastline, with only the odd unlucky pannie ending up in the bin. Work ups of trevelly provided great sport as we headed to iconic Smokehouse Bay, more to show first timer Henry a slice of real Kiwi boating history. Back to the quiet bay we'd moored for dinner the previous night and Henry got into filleting the catch, the fish frames being returned to from whence they'd come - to our amazement a massive shark, a black shadow that became reality as it approached the surface, made short work of the scraps, soon joined by another. Message to self, "don't go in the water...". Back to our jetty, out with the citronella candles, and more tales told with the setting of the sun. A fishing competition had drawn dozens of boats into Port Fitzroy, rafted up in twos and fours, smelly fishermen eager to retell exploits over drinks a plenty, initially on their boats, then up at the boat club, then back to their boats to carry on well into the new morning, happy and rowdy. We tried to creep off out jetty as quietly as possible in deference to our weary fellow fishermen although I'm sure our efforts were not appreciated... The trip home was not quite as gentle but no real effort to the The Mighty Templar, and soon we were back at Half Moon Bay, happy and looking forward to the next opportunity to return to this very special place. |
Don MalcolmA perfect day involves being on my Harley with a long ride ahead.
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