Fishing - Enjoying The Simple Things

With some horrendous late winter weather and no opportunities to head on standard ‘article-worthy’ fishing trips, Nick Jones has had plenty of time to get all philosophical about fishing, and he’s realised a few common truths…

I recently began mulling about how some of my more pedestrian fishing trips have actually ended up being some of the most enjoyable, rewarding and memorable. Don’t get me wrong, I love a big fishing adventure to a remote location loaded up with all manner of fishing gear more than your average Joe, but sometimes I get a real buzz from the simplicity of a basic trip or one where you catch hardly anything but enjoy the wider experience.

The simplicity of kayak fishing has always appealed to me – not so much with a kayak laden with more knick-knacks and electronics than your average trailerboat, but with a kayak you can pull off the roof of your car and get straight into the water. There’s something enjoyable and satisfying having to use your senses, experience, and local knowledge to determine the water depth and where fish are likely to be holding. As a schoolboy I used to head out after school to St Heliers Beach in Auckland city for change-of-light kayak sessions, armed simply with a paddle, lifejacket, one rod and a bag of bait. I seldom came back empty-handed. Quietly bobbing around at water-level makes you feel in tune with your ocean environs, and best of all lets you sneak up on fish in unexpected locations.

Brooke Hannah with a nice snapper from the kayak.

I see that the art of ‘aji’ (mackerel in Japanese) fishing is catching on here in NZ – full-blown matchbox gamefishing around the city with mini stickbaits and heart-pumping explosive surface strikes! Although I have yet to dabble, I think I’d be a real fan of this simple fishing method. I still get a kick out of finding and catching livebait on my Hauraki Express fishing charters – sometimes it’s more challenging than finding the kingfish.

I recently went down to Gisborne for a long weekend. It had been raining hard but there was a break in the weather so I persuaded local legend Eric Hannah to load up his 5.5m Surtees. We headed down the coast with the intention of jumping in the drink for a looksee. Visibility looked all of 1m, but we suited up in the hope of finding a few paua by brail. On my first dive down I almost headbutted a large eagle ray – an ominous start. However, we found a patch of snails, mainly sub-legal, but grabbed a few that measured up. After a hot cuppa, we set off to find some fish. I was after tarakihi, a species seldom encountered in my home patch, but the first ledger rig deployments yielded doubles of pannie snapper. The Gizzy locals were stoked, but I changed my bait offering to small squid tentacles in the hope of dodging those pesky snaps. Sure enough, I ended up with a few tarakihi and even a john dory to go in the bin alongside the snapper. Simple, old school fishing – but bloody good fun and a great day out!

The writer enjoying some old school leader jig fishing.

I’ve also reignited my passion for freediving over the last year. It is a great option when offshore winds are blowing hard and super simple as I normally just drive to a beach, suit up, walk to some rocks and dive in. I don’t dive deep and I manage to find crays in the shallows on most occasions. I normally take the speargun, primarily for the purposes of marking cray holes and attaching the catch-bag to the float, but sometimes stumble into porae, john dory, kingfish, or snapper. Upon seeing the latter, I like to smash up a few kina and return to the spot to see if any bigger models are around. When I jump in the water, I always lose track of time – which is awesome and liberating. No phone distractions or wandering mind – all I’m focused on is taking in the scenery and trying to find some prey.

One of the worst trips, in terms of fish caught, that we’ve had in the Bay of Islands ended up being one of the most fondly remembered. It was the last time I got to head out on the briny with my late mum, Viv. Mum was feeling pretty sick, but she mustered up the strength to clamber on the boat with me and the old boy PJ. It was a stunning Bay of Islands morning with not a breath of wind. As is often the case when conditions are perfect, the fishing was far from hot. In fact, we might not have even snagged a single legal snapper that morning, let alone added to PJ’s mythical record of 20-pounders. But it didn’t matter; we found massive silver linings by getting some fresh air for Mum, enjoying each other’s company, and being privy to a friendly pod of dolphins cruising past.

Like most people, I’ve never been a huge fan of cleaning up the boat or gear at the end of a long day. I’ve always looked on mystified at those old geezers who spend their Sundays cleaning and tinkering their already perfect boat or mowing their lawn for the second time that week. However, my recent attempts at trying to slow-down a touch and enjoy the whole process of a fishing trip – from organising your gear and travelling to your destination through to processing your catch and cleaning up the gear at the end of the day – is starting to pay off (although the prospect of joining the same ilk as those old fellas described above is somewhat chilling).

I think the beauty of fishing, and why it really appeals to so many, is it allows us, without even trying, to practice mindfulness. When fishing, we become immersed in the present moment, all senses tuned into our natural surroundings, harking back to our caveman days where life revolved around satisfying our hunter-gatherer instincts and finding food. The addictive mystery and intrigue of the unknown pervades all fishing trips, no matter how extreme or sedate the environment. And if you don’t buy into this deeper analysis of why we enjoy fishing, then you can’t argue with the fact that most enjoy a day away from the ‘real world’ having a laugh with a few mates.