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We were determined to commit to fishing lures, even though it is often said that bait rules on the west coast.

The bar is really quite a monster to behold up close, and it’s little wonder anyone but a confident boatie on a good vessel would, in their right mind, choose to cross it.  

Heading out of the south channel, which seems the favoured direction, you really have a safe window with a good couple of hours of tide on the bar, and a plan to return at high tide for the safest and most relaxing trip home.

Wear lifejackets and call your cross in to the coast guard always, there’s been too many incedents already this year.

All in all, that does not give you a big window to fish, but at the moment, you don’t need one.

We know that the 50 to 60 metre mark is where it’s happening right now, but with plentiful gannets working up in around 30, and a lit up sounder, it was too hard to go past.

If you like kahawai, then this was the place to be, and fishing lures anything was monstered by these guys mostly before even getting near the bottom.  

Making the call to carry on out to the 50+ metre mark was the right one.

A good-sized swell is common, and it’s often much more comfortable to anchor and stay bow in than it is to drift.

Anywhere else in the country, a critical part of fishing lures is to be drifting at a controlled speed, using a chute if necessary, and fishing jigs and lures at anchor is pretty much a waste of time on most occasions.

Not so out west.  It’s a desert out there, all sand and very little in the way of structure, and for whatever reason, when the bite is on lures at anchor are totally deadly.  Perhaps the very anchor and line itself, and the attraction of a few sparkly things bouncing around is enough to draw attention from afar.

We stopped randomly at 53 metres, nothing on the sounder but sand.

First drops with kabura style lures and slow pitch jigs resulting in pretty much immediate hookups.  And good ones!  The first thing you notice is, on average, the size of snapper is far bigger than fishing the gulf, and 5 kilo fish were pretty much the norm.

We stopped at 11 fish between two of us, easily enough for a feed, and I worked out it was an average of one fish on board every 11 minutes.

That accounts for dropping, hooking up, working a good fish up from 50 metres, unhooking, dealing with the odd kahawai, and mucking about with iki spikes and ice, and the odd re-rig.  Stunning fishing.

Best lures were 120 gram kaburas, rubber octopus patterns worked very well, and inchiku and slow pitch jigs were also slammed.

The plan to stop fishing at high tide and head in was one shared by just about everyone out there, as most boats called the bar crossing and were in within an hour window.

As high tide slowed the current, so too did it slow the bite, and that made heading home even easier.

Magnificent views of the coast, blue water and mad fishing, what more could you ask for?

Perhaps tuna and marlin.  It won’t be long now and these pelagic species will surely be getting seen and caught not too far past the 50 metre mark anywhere outside the bar entrance.

Inside the harbour, we tried for the odd gurnard, but the kahawai were so plentiful and aggressive, they dominated the catch, even when we tried soft baiting the rock wash.

It’s a spectacular place to fish for a change of scene, but that bar!  If you are at all unsure, make sure you follow someone who knows what they are doing at least.

This run should continue for a good few weeks, and it’s great to see the fishing so rewarding when you hit the bite time right.

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Tight lines

Ed.

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