# NSW 05/02 - Racing 4 Fiddy 2 Fiddy



## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

As they say, records are made to be broken. Sportsmen, adventurers, and toy poodle owners know that their place in Mr Guinness's book will be fleeting. They can aspire to be no more than further fuel to the fire of Warhol's fame.

But there is a type of record that is permanent - those that were the first. Roger Bannister was the first to run the four minute mile. Neil Armstrong was the first to walk on the moon. Edmund Hillary was the first to successfully climb Everest and return. Lance Armstrong was the first to win seven Tour de France titles.

These names are immortalised, stamped into our collective psyche for time in memoriam. It's something that Shane Warne can only dream of.

I want to add my name to that list. Forget the HOF, I want something that cannot be erased by string of phpBB code. I aspire to be the first AKFF member to catch half a metre of Bream from a kayak - the mythical unicorn. The journey will be beset with dangers. The practice sessions will be gruelling. But the extreme physical and mental toll will be worth it in the end. Ado will be one of those names, and no-one, not even WADA, will be able to rub me from that list.

But recently, I've spotted a challenger in the midst. It's not Olddood with his HOF 49er (viewtopic.php?f=17&t=58956). Olddood is generally too busy with stylish Snapper and super Snook to bother with the humble Bream. His was a one-off, a serendipitous event unlikely to be repeated. It is not Olddood that I'm worried about. It's not Olddood that could prove to be my nemesis, my name and fame stealer, my bringer of mortality. It's Craig450.

Fiddy recently reported he'd lost what may have been a 50 plus unit (viewtopic.php?f=17&t=59063). Fiddy is not Olddood. The Fiddy is a targetter of the black menace. The Fiddy has skillz. The Fiddy has Bream honey pots that equal or exceed that of The Pondage. There are numerous victims that wander this Earth without tongues, eyes nor GoPros because they caught the merest glimpse of these mystical waters. The Fiddy is indeed a rival. I don't want to be John Landy, Edwin Aldrin or Tenzing Norgay. I don't want to be 451. I want to be Ado. I want to beat Fiddy to fiddy.

Times can be tough for aspiring legends. It's summer and the wind doth howl, the skies doth fill with thunderous rains, and the children doth bay for swimming and bike riding and ice-creameries and (well you get the picture). This leaves little room for heroics. Immortality must wait until the dishes are done.

But Tuesday foretold of a break in the weather that aligned with a school day and small laundry load. Such a day is a rarity that cries out for a shot at the summit. Kids shipped off, dogs walked, chores done and I was off to the Pondage for a 10am launch.










Seabreaze forecasts for the past week had been for 5-10 knot S to SE winds all day for this one day. This seems to be perfect Pondage conditions. I'm beginning to speculate that this wind direction blows surface food to the northern shore where aquatic predators lie in wait. I rechecked the forecast before jumping into the laden Elgrand. I arrived and set up to a strengthening nor-easter, optimally bad conditions. NE winds? NE WINDS! Armstrong wasn't faced with NE wind as he took his immortal step. Bannister didn't run headlong into a nor-easter as he headed for the tape. Hillary didn't &#8230; well he probably did actually, but he's a freak. In any case, NE winds were adversity in the extreme. In three outings in NE winds my sum total has been one fish landed. So it was with a heavy heart and waning motivation that I ploughed off into the NE wind. I chose to paddle, not pedal, a testament to the inner fortitude I'd need to succeed.

Half way across my 2km approach I saw a figure. It was a kayak, an occupant, a hat! Was that Fiddy steeling my training facilities and hoping to snatch immortality from under my not insignificant nose? It proved not to be. It was a visitor from Sydney, the land of the humble yellow fin, hardly a contender. He was pleased with his meagre 36cm model, and a later one 38cm to the fork. Bwahahaha! Still, there needs to be those less worthy to juxtapose our greatness. After a quick chat I sidled past, heading for the honey hole and my date with destiny.

The G5IJSCLISPN had been pre-armed on my trusty Jervis Walker. The wind blew foul drifts, spins and a bowed line, but this did not deter me. My third cast saw extreme interest. The slack line took off under the yak, but I somehow missed the hookup. I used the Mirage drive and continuous rudder adjustments in an attempt to hold the mark. This proved successful. The next cast resulted in a nearly imperceptible tap. I thought I was imagining things, raised the rod tip to an unmoved bend and concluded weed. Half way in the weed started moving. Heavy, slow, the hallmarks of a big Flathead. My lack of an initial strike proved telling. One shake of the head was all it took to rid it of its mouth of the oversized mimic of an &#8230;. um &#8230;. radioactive alien abdominal worm? Holding location as best I could, I cast once more. This time there was no denying the hit. I struck like someone who has just failed to set the hook &#8230;. and parted the leader knot. Damn. That's payment for honed skills lost though off season indulgence.

By the time I'd retied the leader, the jig head and impaled a new Gulp, I was hundreds of metres from the bight. I tried in vane to locate it again, but either I was unsuccessful in my one dimensional triangulation or they fish had moved on.

I spent the next three hours in training purgatory.

The water level was down half a metre. This, combined with summer temperatures, resulted in an explosion of weed. Few of my favourite spots were fishable with plastics. Those that were resulted in the need to cut each retrieve short to remove a couple of annoying strands that ruined the presentation &#8230;. of a radioactive alien abdominal worm. The strong winds of the last month or so had succeeded in stirring up the lowered shoreline, reducing visibility to perhaps half a metre at best. I couldn't see the sandy patched I most craved. The wind propelled me at a fast trolling pace, useless for plastic fishing. Any cast into the wind was too short to be effective. Any cast with the wind made it impossible to keep contact with the plastic.

I escaped to the northern shoreline. Even this did little to protect me. The wind bent around the meagre headland, losing some velocity but leaving a healthy 10 knot easterly to contend with. I used my sounder to locate less weedy areas, only to find that these were equally devoid of fish. I continued to drift westward, hugging the shoreline, casting every 5m. The only break in the monotony was parting another leader knot on a rocky underwater outcrop. I had thoughts of turning back, giving in to the harsh elements that only a sunny summer day in southern NSW can conjure. But I channelled Hillary and Bannister. They weren't quitters. Neil Armstrong couldn't quit even if he wanted to. I put in the hard yards, the extremes of effort required to drift with the wind and cast a line, the pain of continued failure. If I was to lose my fiddy to Fiddy, then it would not be through lack of trying.

I ended up in the western bays, plagued once again by the full strength of the NE winds. There were now white caps spraying laughter across my bow and spitting over my gunwales. But heroic determination gripped me. I got the first touch in two hours. It was obviously a tiny bream, but at least it was a sign. It was a sign that fortitude could prevail against the elements and that a complete lack of knowledge and skill was no impediment to mediocrity. If mediocre was my label for today, then I would wear it with pride. To achieve greatness, one must spend at least some time passing through mediocrity.

Another hour of mediocrity passed, including the km bash into the teeth of the 15 knot maelstrom. A was veritably dampened with spray. If I'd been wearing glasses, I would have undoubtedly have had to stop to clean them. That's how adverse it was. It moistened my apple, salted my cheese and bickies, made me stop eating to correct my steering. That's pretty adverse. But heroics are built on adversity. In adversity we trust.

I had to try something new. I headed for the sanctuary buoy.

What is it about sanctuary zones that inspire the imagination? You stare at them in blind wonder, imagining that just the other side of that fictitious line is a body of water teaming with life, all swimming past with piscatorial smiles on their scaly faces, giving you the finger. Your imagination makes the logical extension. There must surely be a linear ramp function that dilutes the mythical saturation of fish to the extreme paucity that exists outside the sanctuary. There must surely be a few strays that wander a few metres outside the safe zone. I tested this hypothesis again, with immediate results.

Gone were the proper good techniques. No casting into the drift and flicking some life into the plastic. Instead I cast as best as I could upwind, left the bail arm open as I drifted away, waiting until I'd provided any spooked fish sufficient recovery time, and started a lazy drift and twitch. It's a technique I haven't resorted to for years, the lazy man's angling. Lazy or not, it came up trumps with a good hit, and a short sharp run. There was no denying what that was. I completed the drift, pedalled back into the wind, cast at a new section adjacent to the sanctuary zone, and repeated the technique. Tap tap. I held my breath. Tap tap tap. I turned blue. Tap tap tap bend. I lowered the rod tip as I drifted away, still feeling the merest of resistance. At full arm extension I struck. There was no give.

At first I took it for a big Flathead. It was heavy, but lacked the arcing runs of the big Bream that I was used to. But its back suddenly appeared 10m away, from the metre of murk below it. I caught my breath. It was indeed a Bream and it was huge. It struggled little and within a minute or two it was within tantalising reach of the net. In my eagerness, I had stopped one wind of the reel early. It remained wallowing on the surface just out of reach. Was it bigger than my 47cm PB? It sure looked it, but then again so had the 47cm PB. There was only one way to find out and that was to stop ogling it and net it. It of course had other ideas and dived off for a final run at its own glory. I calmed my nerves, put the net down, gently coerced it yak side and steered in finally into the net.

The camera stopped working (again) so I fumbled the iPhone for a net shot before measure. That way I could have some evidence if I botched the lap measure.










Measurement on an uneven surface (made even more uneven though over-excitement) may not be accurate. However it was accurate enough to confirm that it wasn't a fiddy. It was 46cm, perhaps 47 if I could have pulled off the Gatesy stretch. But short of spinal dislocation, it wasn't going to be the mythical unicorn. It was still a horse, but it had no horn. I on the other hand &#8230;










It brought home to me how impossibly huge a half metre of Bream would be &#8230; correction, WILL be.

The next drift resulted in another hookup as I left the plastic out while pedalling into position. This was also sizeable and undertook the typical arc around the stern such that I had to pass the rod tip over the flag and second rod. However, when this hit the surface I knew it was a keeper worthy of a measure back at shore. I don't release Flathead.


























So I got my fiddy. It wasn't the one I was after, but who was I to complain? I dusted off the cobwebs, fought the good fight, honed my meagre bag of skills, and even learned a thing or two. It will take more than desire to catch a fiddy. But desire breeds hope, and hope springs eternal.


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## RekFix (Dec 30, 2011)

Hellova backyard you got there Ado.


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## keenfisho (Aug 22, 2012)

What can i say except for great fish and FANTASTIC report.
I will hopefully have a crack at a big bream this sunday while chasing mullies down the Coroong
Once again great read


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## craig450 (May 11, 2007)

Hahaha, Ado that is one of the finest reports i have ever had the pleasure of reading, very nicely done!

That is a thumping big bream. You are getting them at that size far more consistently than i, so i am going to put it out there and say i reckon you will
get to the magical half a metre before me, but im always up for a challenge so why not give it a go 

Again, fantastic report and great fish mate, i will brace myself for the gloating of a 50cm bream in the bag coming very soon.


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## craig450 (May 11, 2007)

Stippy said:


> Jolly good. I'd be careful though, by all reports Craig is pretty handy with an airbrush... bit of paint and half a metre of snapper :twisted:


I cant believe i didnt think of that myself.....anyone want to come Snapper fishing?


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## solatree (May 30, 2008)

Wonderful Ado

A few thoughts

Have you considered an executive summary for the likes of Paddy ?

Beware the OldDood - he has nasty habits

Fiddy is not Fiddy but actually forFiddy and a fortysix is won more cm than forfiddy mms - so you done it already.


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## imtheman (Aug 24, 2012)

well done ado that is a cracker bream


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## Guest (Feb 6, 2013)

Thanks Ado. Great read as usual. Its still a snapper though.


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## Squidder (Sep 2, 2005)

Still catching the biggest bream on the forum. And writing the best reports. Look forward to the fiddy. Fine work young man.


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## Penno (Dec 2, 2005)

G


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## fisherjayse (Jan 30, 2013)

Terrific fish and a terrific read.

Who would have thought you can catch big bream on snapper jerk shads  , me learnt something.

Fisherjayse


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## anselmo (Aug 26, 2008)

That's the good stuff Ado
Will be watching your practice sessions going forward in anticipation


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## kayakone (Dec 7, 2010)

Friggin' close Ado, but not quite.

You'll do it Hillary.

trev

Exceptional report - don't forget to hit the thumbs up button folks


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## pescado (May 17, 2007)

Massif breamz dude  You know its fat when it makes a 5IJS looks small.

Almost surprising that you or fiddy havent cracked the 50 yet, I reckon its not far off.


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## Wrassemagnet (Oct 17, 2007)

If you crack fiddy there will be drug testing. Even consistent 40 plus bream captures must involve banned substances you freak! 

Mad report, love it!


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## badmotorfinger (Mar 15, 2010)

Thanks Ado. Love your writing and the fact that you will share your secret gps coordinates with anyone who sends a pm. You just don't discriminate and that's what makes you tops.


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## Geoffw (Jan 23, 2011)

Can I be the first to order the book? It's been a long time since i have had so much fun reading a fishy tale. Thanks


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

RekFix said:


> Hellova backyard you got there Ado.


Just one of many  .


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

patwah said:


> I had to get to the end and skip the prose


Will you apologise on bended knee?



BigGee said:


> You didn't need the first comma.


I beg to differ. It could otherwise be construed as someone mentioning records, which of course I was, but that's beside the point. All the spelling mistakes were also intentional.



BigGee said:


> HORSE of a Bream


I'm considering making some bridles. The trip back involves exertion.



Stippy said:


> I'd be careful though, by all reports Craig is pretty handy with an airbrush... bit of paint and half a metre of snapper


There are flaws in that plan. It requires him to venture outside, preferably before dawn or after dusk. I'll be under him with a bubbleless aqualung, giving him the occasional bump. That should sort it.



Craig450 said:


> You are getting them at that size far more consistently than i, so i am going to put it out there and say i reckon you will
> get to the magical half a metre before me


You are only being hamstrung by your superior tactics. You haven't tried the one that works based purely on the grounds that it is rediculous. You must de-skill to succeed.


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

eric said:


> I'm underwhelmed by your use of the Oxford comma in the second sentence.


True. Slap worthy. Left unedited as a sign of my mortality yet to be cured.


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

fisherjayse said:


> Who would have thought you can catch big bream on snapper jerk shads


Not me. I bought them for Snapper, tried them for flathead, and caught bream. It hasn't stopped since. Go figure.



pescado said:


> You know its fat when it makes a 5IJS looks small.


That my customosed 2 inch. I have a 1/2 scale AKFF brag mat too.



Wrassemagnet said:


> Even consistent 40 plus bream captures must involve banned substances you freak!


Not as much as writing about it. ;-)



badmotorfinger said:


> Love your writing and the fact that you will share your secret gps coordinates with anyone who sends a pm.


You'd think that would have worked. It seems that all the predatory stinkboaters type Carnster into their search filters. And that's the way it should be.



Geoffw said:


> Can I be the first to order the book?


PM sent ;-) .


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

solatree said:


> Have you considered an executive summary for the likes of Paddy ?


The podcast will be available shortly.



solatree said:


> Beware the OldDood - he has nasty habits


Of catching huge Bream? I hope it doesn't become a habit. It's not as though I'm challenging his Snapper skillz.


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## Barrabundy (Sep 29, 2008)

With all the hoohaa about sports cheats lately, you reckon supplements for humans would work on fish?


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

FGH?


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## Darwin (Jul 25, 2008)

You are lord of the bream! My catch no where near your record! I am giving up....

Darwin


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

Darwin said:


> You are lord of the bream! My catch no where near your record! I am giving up....Darwin


I do have the South Coast advantage. Take off 5cm to get a fair comparison with Yellowfin.


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## Ado (Mar 31, 2008)

Bertros said:


> Ado said:
> 
> 
> > Darwin said:
> ...


No need. It's already built in. Trophy Lengths:

Black Bream = 45cm
Yellowfin Bream = 40cm


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## Stang (Apr 11, 2011)

A great read as always Ado. You need to fish more so we can enjoy more of your posts. 
I had a good laugh, especially relating to your description of striking like you've just missed a hit.... and breaking your leader knot. Unfortunately, I've been there too.
Cheers


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