Squid Fishing

Those who are in the magical 20lb snapper or 30kg kingfish clubs will remember the experience of landing those fish for the rest of their lives. Squid fishers Jun Park, Rudee Lim and Ben Tupaea view this magical number as the one-kilo mark, which they to refer to as the ‘kraken’…

Out of the hundreds of squid caught during the season, only a couple are this size. One of our team members, Jun, was blessed with catching one recently, beating his previous personal best with a 1.3kg specimen (it had a mantle length of around 35cm).

Squid at these sizes fight hard and pull some serious string. The experience is second to none, especially for those who appreciate the sport of using super-light gear. On Jun’s squid, the initial hit and then the run that followed were so powerful and so long we initially thought it was a good-sized kahawai. Rod bent in half, the reel screamed non-stop, whistling in varying frequencies for a good 10 seconds before finally stopping for a brief moment – but then it just started going again. The adrenaline was very real, and during the exchange the pressure and weight could definitely be felt on the wrist. Then a tug-of-war began which meant constantly playing with the drag – loosen, tighten, loosen, tighten… It certainly had some weight – it felt like winding in a decent piece of seaweed that springs to life every so often.

Jun broke his PB with a nice 1.3kg kraken. A serious string-puller that we initially thought was a bit kahawai.

Rudee and his little brother, Mateen, went out this season on a regular basis around Auckland scoping different areas. They even went as far as wearing waders, fishing in waist deep water so they could access potentially untouched habitats in their search for that gold mine of squid.

Fair to say, their daring endeavours paid dividends as they consistently caught good hauls of quality squid, with many in the 900g weight range and a few just shy of the 1kg mark (not to mention the countless smaller specimens above the 600g mark).

Lately, we have been carrying scales as we have been trying to find the correlation between hood length and the weight of squid. After measuring countless squid, we were surprised with the variation in our results. As with fish (where you can get fatties or long slender ones), it was difficult to establish an accurate relationship between length and weight. But from experience, we believe that a hood length of around 33cm will equate roughly to a 1kg squid. As we approach spring and the latter part of the squid season, these plus-sized models will become more prevalent.

These scales have been great to find out the exact weight of the squid for friendly bragging rights.

We also held an impromptu competition at the Takapuna boat ramp recently where friends and families came down to get amongst it and potentially win some prizes, which consisted of goody bags filled with the newly-released Squid Attack 2 squid jigs, that we’ve started creating as a team.

The atmosphere was great, and we couldn’t have asked for a better turn out with people of all ages fronting up. One fond memory was watching a dad and son duo eging on one shelf. It was a beautiful sight to see and it’s so special that eging can be a means to connect everyone on all levels.

A very beautiful dad and son eging moment from the impromptu competition. This is why we love eging as it brings people together.

The fishing was relatively quiet during the event but it eventually picked up and a number of people started catching them towards the end. We were stoked with how it went and want to thank everyone who turned up and made it an eventful night – we really lit up the area!

On that note, seeing the mass number of headlights gathered in one area sparked a trip down memory lane and we reminisced about some of the funny moments during the trips we’ve had in the past. Every trip, each member displays a common tendency. Jun gets his gumboots wet in nine out of every ten trips no matter where we go or how careful he is.

Rudee is the graceful yogi, the master of balance – said no-one ever. Although his love for rock-hopping is second to none, he’s as clumsy as an elephant. There’s been a couple of instances where Rudee has even slipped on cats-eye snails. He also regularly steps into rock pools and just slips over in general. Truth be told, it is a miracle that he’s still in one-piece.

Ben is special in the sense that he likes to donate his jigs to Tangaroa, and not just one or two, but more likely five to ten on a good day. Whether it be because of wind knots while casting or simply hitting all the good spots and getting snagged, he always finds a way to get snagged, despite others fishing in the exact same spot as him and being fine.

Each of us have special ‘issues’, but I guess it’s a price we are happy to pay to catch a bagful of squid. As the saying goes, “no pain, no gain”.

Speaking of pain, we are proud (mostly) to admit we have shared the pain of breaking rods together. One time, Ben, absolutely filled with excitement, was walking very quickly across the rocks only to trip and face plant. He discovered a few moments later that his rod tip had broken off. Ben, trying to keep a straight face, goes “It’s okay, I can still squid fish.” We soon got to the spot and cast our jigs out. To add salt to the wound, he then found out that the fall had jammed his reel handle and it was bent lopsidedly, just like his face after seeing it.

Another instance occurred when we were walking down a very bushy path and Rudee’s rod got caught on the vegetation. The next moment, after one cast and one whip, the rod broke at the ferrules. Rudee spent the rest of the day sitting down, warming up the bench, as he watched Jun fish. That happened to be a good day too with a lot of squid being caught.

Jun’s rod breakage memory goes back to one evening at a local spot on the shore. After he gave his rod a violent jerk, we heard a sharp crack and then heard something fall down from above. He hadn’t seen the overhanging tree above him in the darkness. And suddenly something started sliding down the line into the water – it was the rod tip, cut cleanly from the rest of the rod. Although painful to experience, we have now learnt to take our time and observe our surroundings before diving straight into it, which will no doubt save many rods in the future.