If in doubt, don't go

We work hard, life’s busy and those fishing trips are what gets many of us through the grind. It’s the adult version of the night before Christmas.

Like many people, I get the fishing manifestation of buck fever pretty severely in the lead up to a trip, especially if I’ve had a few weekends out of the game. Rods and reels are rigged and re-rigged, fishing clothes are put out days ahead, and I make way too many trips to the tackle shop to buy stuff I almost certainly don’t need. The rest of life is on autopilot until the first lure hits the water. Don’t tell the kids that I’m not entirely focused on their jigsaw!

A few months back, the excitement was biting pretty hard. My mate and I hadn’t been out for the best part of a month, the freezer was empty, the rods were primed, the boat was in pristine condition, and every hook was honed back to factory-grade sharpness. All week we were making plans, sharing ideas, and watching endless big fish clips on YouTube. But the weather wasn’t playing ball. The tail end of a storm was heading down the country, it was already damn windy, and SwellMap was definitely telling us to stay home.

Of course, when you’re desperate to get out, you can tell yourself convincing stories: "The storm will miss us; it’s never as bad as they say; and we’ll just tuck in close right by the ramp…" We used all of that reasoning and some even more far-fetched theories to play meteorologist and confirm the plan to get out on the water. Besides, fish bite harder after a storm, right?

We met at the ramp just before dawn – and it wasn’t pleasant. My mate had driven an hour to get there and to start with we were all action: rods on the boat, gear locked down for launch, wet weathers on. Then we took a pause. We could actually hear the breakers from the ramp, which we’d never heard from that spot before. It was still pretty dark, but the treetops above the ramp were bending, and although we were in a protected spot, you could feel the storm. These amateur meteorologists were dead wrong.

We leaned back on the boat with our beanies on and had a coffee and a yarn. Long story short, we decided not to go. We finished the coffees, unpacked the boat, and headed home.

I got back before 7am and hung out with the kids while my wife went for a run (and likely sneaked a coffee at the café). Then we all rugged up and went for a walk on a protected beach—and had fun getting buffeted about a bit while we hunted for a washed-up john dory. My mate went back and built a raised garden for growing vegetables, earning a bunch of credits and spending some awesome time planting it out with his little toddler. One of our best trips ever, in the context of staying alive. 

I haven’t always made the right choice – plenty of people don’t. The thing is, you’ll probably be okay… In New Zealand, our ‘she’ll be right’ attitude is a big part of our awesomely pragmatic, no-fuss culture and most of us have pushed our luck at times. Mostly it works out just fine! But really, why chance it? There will be other days to get on the water, as hard as it is to walk away from a fishing trip.

For me, it’s about recognising when ‘a bit iffy’ has been replaced with ‘bloody stupid’. Ideally, we wouldn’t go out when it’s a ‘bit iffy’, but that’s probably too much to ask for your average red-blooded fisherperson. There’s always risk on or around the water, whatever the conditions. You can minimise or manage a certain amount of risk by being really well prepared – things like knowing the forecast, logging your trip, taking all the right safety gear and sticking to waters you know very well. Getting a Coastguard Membership is also essential, in my view.

Again, it’s probably best not to go if there’s a little bit of ‘if’, but for me, the real key is to take pause and recognise when it’s just too dangerous. Flag it and do something else.

You probably don’t want to live in cotton wool, but you can still make good decisions when it really would be stupid to head out there, even if your boat has all the safety equipment.