Queenies on Fly

The first neap tides after the long-awaited end to the tropical summer in Broome saw some interesting action aboard Four Winds charters’ LIVELY, skippered by Dean Kemp.

If you take the time to search out some rock formations offshore from the endless stretches of white sand, you’re sure to come across a patch of good fishing ground. Here you will find the home and shelter, staging post and feeding location for a variety of fish at various seasons of the year. One of these never-fail patches was, for me, the location for some very rewarding salt-water fly-casting one afternoon recently.

As Dean anchored, green-backed turtles surfaced, their barnacle-encrusted shells and cumbersome deliberation presenting such a contrast to the speed and aerofoil dynamics of the schools of fast moving long-tail tuna we had enjoyed just days beforehand. I was fishing alongside Kimberley guide Peter Tucker for the first time and, whilst he allowed me to have the fly rein, he began with a light bait-casting outfit.

Before the anchor had touched bottom Peter had a white jig over the side. Expecting to see fish show some curiosity and interest as he retrieved it, he was astonished to find that his first cast was a huge hook-up to a powerful contestant, who nonchalantly bit him off, big-time.

Just as keen to wet a line, I also cast my fly-line with a flashy blue and white fly with lead eyes to help it sink towards the feeding zone. My set up takes a little longer than conventional, but patience is a necessary part of fishing, especially fly-fishing. I counted to thirty, then swiftly stripped my line in, to see 3 or 4 queenfish following it home, darting in front of it, investigating curiously alongside it, and all tantalizingly close, but not hooked up. The excitement raced through my blood like an electric pulse as I quickly thought why I hadn’t hooked up with so many fish following my fly. Next cast I decided to change tactics slightly. Using the same fly and calculating the same depth, I decided to increase the speed on the stripping. The reward was a lively hook-up. In characteristic queenfish action, this silver streak led me a merry dance in all directions, surfaced spectacularly, plunged back down and suddenly accelerated yet faster…….then the load on the line changed from lively and energetic to super-heavy, slow and totally determined to head down and away.

All clues indicated that a large predator was now in possession of my hooked queenie. Long seconds ticked towards minutes of lead-heavy slow determined contest. It felt like I was hooked up to a navy submarine. Just as the line must have been reaching the limit of its endurance, I decided to hold the spool and wait for the tippet to break. I was surprised that the line had not broken already as I only had a light tippet with monofilament, not wire. I held on tight waiting for the break. Tension was released but the line not snapped. I imagined reeling in the head of the queenfish, but it amazingly seemed to be swimming towards me. To my delight and surprise a very respectable but totally subdued queenfish, still intact, still hooked-up, but now bearing the indisputable marks of combat, surfaced by the boat. A predator had grasped it and carried it away, then simply let it go. The queenfish was still very much alive so I quickly retrieved the fly and returned it to the water. What a fishy story! Could you imagine what it would be telling its mates today! I know I will be telling that story to my mates for years to come. The size and alignment of the teethmarks on its flank showed the hallmarks of a big groper.

Peter continued to lose his gear to the hard fighting fish on the bottom, with the white jigs. He then changed to some heavier gear and began to land trevally after trevally, golden and blackspotted varieties. However, many of his fish had a large predator hot on their heels and we saw a flash of what appeared to be a huge cod or queensland groper that had probably been the culprit for trying to steal my earlier queenie.

I landed several queenfish with that one fly as my ever faithful DBT 10 weight Strudwick fly rod was flexed to its limit with these hard fighting fish. We only had a short time to spend on the water and thanks to some earlier preparation, it turned out to be a successful afternoon. I was using an intermediate fly line, and the two keys to remember when chasing these beauties are: patience to let the fly sink, and fast action to retrieve it. If you stop your retrieval as you are stripping or strip too slow the queenfish just play with it. A little like a billfish actually. Peter called them the “poor-man’s marlin” as they jump and dance on the surface when hooked.

Patience is a characteristic more often found in women anglers than men, I believe. With the right outfit and the right attitude women need not be at any physical disadvantage compared to men. Equipment is certainly a huge factor contributing to success. No man would set out to win the Bathurst 1000 driving a pram, and no woman should be expected to be content dangling a battered hand caster from the bow of her partner’s boat, while he gets to use the equivalent of a racy BMW.

After a successful afternoon among some flighty queenies and hard-hitting trevally, we headed back along the beaches towards home, content to have spent just a couple of hours on the water. As the sun glowed red across the calm waters we were already back on the mooring safely before dark. It’s a very special feeling to know there is such good sport so close to home.

We, as anglers are so lucky to be living in this country and particularly in this state. If you get the chance to go out for a day fishing like this one, don’t pass it up, life’s too short.