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There were seven of us standing on the deck of the Zambucca, Steve and Julie Haddocks huge 63 foot charter boat in Whakatane, all keen to be off fishing, but all rather sceptical about our chances. The weather was pretty lousy, this was right in the middle of those floods we’d been having in July, the rain had for the moment stopped, mainly I think because the strong wind was blowing it all away! Not exactly the perfect start for a trip I guess, but the forecast was for improving weather over the weekend we were to be away.... although by the look of it, the best would be the Monday we’d be steaming for home. Our destination was one of New Zealands most special fishing spots, a largely un-explored area of deep reefs and sharp pinnacles, exposed to the worst weather in the country because of its location, 20km off the tip of East Cape. Perhaps because of it’s notoriously foul weather, it’s the home of untouched masses of Hapuku, Bass, Bluenose, Trumpeter and Kingfish. If there is a “wild West” of NZ fishing, it’d have to be the Ranfurly Rise. It was the exposed nature of the fishing area that had us worried, if it kept blowing 20 knots, I doubted we’d get much of a shot at fishing the rise, but Steve was optimistic. Besides, it sure is a comfort knowing that ,heading for this wild area, you’ve got 63 feet by 20 ft of big, beautiful boat below you. If Steve was happy going, then, dammit, so were we. We had loaded in Whakatane at noon on a Friday, earlier than the usual load-up time, as Steve insisted that for safety’s sake, we’d have to travel by day, as there were masses of logs floating around in the Bay of Plenty at the moment, a result of the monumental floods of the previous week or two. We were planning to run straight to Cape Runaway that afternoon , from where we would decide in the morning about whether we should take a crack at the Ranfurly. Steve’s call was that we may get a shot out wide for a short while on Saturday PM, and it’d be fine by Sunday. As we motored along the coast, I was amazed to see the crap floating about miles from shore. The flooding all along the coast had washed muddy water miles off-shore, and bobbing ominously among it all was a collection of trunks, branches and trees that proved very clearly the wisdom of Steves insistence of only steaming by day. Perhaps the worst part of it though was that with all this fresh water out here, there were no fish to be seen anywhere, if we couldn’t find any schools of fish, we may not have enough baits for our fishing on the Ranfurly. Steve had laid in a box or two of big squid for bait, but out there, live-baits, either kahawai or Mackerel, would be like candies to a baby. We really need some. So it was that once at anchor that night in the sheltered waters of Runaway that, after a huge roast Lamb meal, we trooped to the stern to see if we couldn’t find some livies. Mackerel on Sabiki rigs would be the easiest way, so we were keen to have a shot. One look at the water we were anchored in though, and we just turned away. Even the famously un-fussy Mackerel wouldn’t bite in that water... water? I mean Milo. So it was to be then,... no livies for the Ranfurly, darn. All night as I lay in my berth (as charter master.... NOT Camp Mother, thank you very much!-...I claimed the big double berth as mine) I could still hear the chill Sou’Westerlie gusting around the boat.... Lordy, I hoped it’d drop by the morning. Well it didn’t. Still a fairly brisk breeze of around 15 to 20 knots next morning, we headed off , edging towards the East Cape to see if the weather would pick up, while doing so we’d have a crack at a few of the inshore reefs in the area, see if we couldn’t pick up a Snapper or Terakihi or two. Again, everywhere near the coast was silty, brackish water, the fish were surely not biting, all we caught all morning was a few poxy Red Cod, and a string of medium sized School Sharks. However, by mid-morning we were noticing that the wind was, sure enough, flagging. After tossing back my fourth Red Cod in a row, Steve declared this nonsense to be at an end, how did we feel about nosing our way out to see how things looked out further? The vote was instant.... get us outa here! So, firing up the big 1100hp Cat, Steve soon had Zambucca heading for some reefs about 10 kilometres off the coast he had seen on his sounder a few trips before. If it was to be rough, then we’d not be too far from shelter, if it looked OK, then we’d be even closer to our goal of fishing the Ranfurly. In an hour or so, Steve had us readying for our first drop over some serious fishing grounds. The breeze was still fairly stiff, certainly not calm by any means, but Zambucca is a brilliant rough weather boat, and was handling the chop with ease, so we were fairly confident of getting at least something into the fish-boxes to justify our trip! From the first drop, the bites started coming thick and fast. Fishing in around 150m of water, shallow by White Island standards, we were pleasantly surprised to find that we were starting to pick up Hapuku and Trumpeter... apart from one of our crew, PAULSOMETHINGCHECK THISNAME, who was having a problem with School sharks. Paul was the one angler to be pestered by these same sharks in close that morning, fighting each fish confidently predicting that it’d be our first Kingi for the trip, only to have one of the worthless brown mongrels pop up beside the boat. Now, ten kilometres away, he was still catching them, the pestering becoming a plague. Poor Paul, with the arrival of each new shark, the teasing got worse. We all thought it was hilarious, but Pauls muttering was becoming more morose by the moment. After a few drifts, in which we picked up several fish, but not exactly creaming it, Steve again asked us how we felt. The wind now was certainly on the drop,... did we want to have a shot out at the Rise? Yes, go for it was the reply. It was another hour and a half to go, and as we neared to Rise, the exposed seas out here still showed all the signs of the recent rough weather.... man, it was rough. But again, fishable, but only because of the sheer size of this boat. I really cannot stress enough, that the only reason we were able to be out there, and safe, was because we were on about the best boat in the country to handle these conditions. The rest of that afternoon on the Ranfurly was great fun.... we caught fish for sure, big trumpeter, some nice if not spectacular sized Hapuku, in some pretty awful conditions. Looking at the photos, you can see the gusty wind blowing the caps of the waves, it was like being in a roller coaster crossed with a washing machine... but fun! Thank goodness for those Paihia Pharmacy Sea-sick pills! We were scoring constantly with fish by now, with many small kingies also nailing our baits as well as our targeted deeper water fish, several of which we kept for use as baits (any fish hooked too deeply or damaged too badly for release, the others all went back), as well as a smattering of Gemfish among the good fish filling the big fish-holds. But, this being the middle of winter, our day was fairly short, we had only an hour or so on the actual Ranfurly itself before Steve called for us to finally pack up our gear for the long trek back to the Cape for our sheltered anchorage. One of the features of these trips is, if the weather allows it, the chance to stay out all night wide of the Rise, drift-fishing all night for those elusive monsters of the deep, the Big-eye Tuna and Broadbill Swordfish. It really is too bad that or weather didn’t allow this, it is something I have long wanted to do.... still, there’s always next time! Steaming back in, we were all very pleased to note the dropping breeze and the slow easing of the chop, tomorrow looked like it might be a very nice day. Another big meal, another disappointment trying to find any bait, and another nights kip before our last day on the Ranfurly. Up early next morning, we were amazed at the change in the conditions, it was almost glassy calm in the anchorage, and looked not much rougher in the blue seas beyond. Were we lucky or what! As Steve had said, we had a shot at the rise on Saturday afternoon, but Sunday indeed looked very good. And so it was. Today there was no question about it, we were heading for the Ranfurly in ideal conditions. It took us a fair old while to get there though, for as we cruised out to the rise, Steve would spot more and more new and unfished reefs, laden with fish, that we really just could not pass by. Each one rated on or two drops, each one providing multiple hook-ups of fat Hapuku, Trumpeter and even a few Bass. We did have one problem with this marvellous weather though, it seemed to be Mako friendly as well as Fisho friendly. First one, then more and more of our fish were disappearing from our lines half way up to the boat, with the occasional severed head making it back to the boat to show the cause of these mysterious bust-offs. We would shift reef, move a few more miles along to the Ranfurly , make another drop or two until Whumph! Mr Mako would come over for lunch again. Still, it was great to see these mean munchies come up to the boat. A Mako in the water, just circling at the back of the boat is a great thing to see, all power and beauty... at least it is easy to appreciate all this when you’re in a really BIG boat. Seeing three metre sharks behind a small run-about is entirely different, trust me on this. We had heaps of fish aboard, so weren’t too upset at the occasional loss of a fish, although I was slighty miffed when the best Hapuku of the trip was coming up to the boat... on MY line mark you, only to get to the back of the boat with a dirty great Mako sucking on it’s tail. One second a top catch, the next, sharks sushi! With all these diversions, it wasn’t until around noon that we finally reached the shallowest part of the rise. All around the boat, the sea was full of fish and bird-life. Steve came down from the bridge, informing us all that we were now in less water than the boats length... under 60ft of water! This, 17 miles from East Cape, and beautifully smooth. Yesterday the top of this reef was a foam of breaking waters as the wind, waves and tides combined to cut up a rough chop over the shallows, today though, it was brilliant. As soon as we neared the shallows, our two little tuna feathers ( we had these out in the hope of catching some Albacore) were soundly walloped, both fish being boated, a pair of fit 15 to 20lb kingies. From then on, it was a mission getting our baits or Jigs through the Kings to the ‘puka below.
On my 8 kilo set, I tied on a green and yellow 150gm jig, and on the first drop, was into a fish. This though was no little rat king, and the fish soon had me doing laps around the Zambucca before finally pinning me to the bow, were the fish circled for hours (well, O.K., maybe twenty minutes, but it FELT like hours!), until I was finally able to feel I was making any headway at all. A little while long, and another lap of the boat, and the gaff went in to the best Kingfish of the trip, a very fat 35lb Kingfish, a real beauty on light line. I was well pleased, but also well stuffed, so gladly encouraged Steve to have a crack at a fish with the gear. It is not often that you will see Steve fishing on Zambucca, but with everyone pretty much sated fish-wise, all playing with various fish on assorted tackle, it was a good time for even a skipper to kick back and relax for a minute or two. So, first drop of the Jig, and again an immediate hook-up. Although a good fish, it was no big Kingfish, before long Steve had a fish boated that I had not seen in the flesh before, a Blue Moki! Not exactly a common catch on a jig, it just goes to show how prolific the fish life in this area really is. We were soon all pretty much fished out. Kingfish were everywhere, we could see schools of them here and there about the surface, every so often packs of them would shoot of and mug schools of Ocean Sauries (piper-like fish), causing these long thin fish to cascade out of the water like silver arrows... not that all their leaping did them any good, judging by the size of the splashes made by the bigger predators when they landed. Added to all this action, our friends the Makos had returned too, at one stage a small 2 metre Mako being attacked and chased off by a much larger 3.5metre shark... it was time to go, any further fish we were hooking up were just shark-baits. So again we headed back into the Cape. We were debating among ourselves whether or not to stay out another day, as we all could see that the Monday was going to be even calmer, but man, we already had more fish than we could easily dispose of, so we decided to head back Monday as planned. It worked out very nicely really. Travelling back from Cape Runaway next morning, the sea was beautiful, a very slight riffle taking the glassiness off the water, a warm sun shining down, and not a wave or a swell to be seen. We made the most of these perfect conditions, using them to cleayou on a boat that is just ideal for taking on the seas in this notoriously rough waters... Zambucca is the boat to beat for the Ranfurly Rise experience! GET in touch with Steve and Julie Haddock, 07-307-1322 for an advert with this story.
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