D L O C
HOOK, LINE & SINKER
COMFORT
WORDS ANDREW HART
Nick Duigan and Andrew Hart are proud Taswegians—but even the Hook, Line and Sinker boys were hunting for glue to stick the brass monkey’s bits back on during a frigid, trout-seeking sojourn…
T
asmania is famous for lots of great things, such as beautiful seafood, lovely wine and pretty scenery as far as the eye can see. It’s also famous for being cold in winter. And this can be a problem when you’re trying to produce a fishing show while being stuck in Tasmania due to, say, a global pandemic. With only a few more episodes needed to finish our season and our deadline running out, things were getting tight. The winter was long and dark, and while we waited and waited for a break in the weather, things only got worse. In fact, a scan of the charts
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showed that a series of cold fronts were about to hit us and would reportedly bring snow to sea level. We had a choice to bunker down by the fire or to get out there and film a story chasing one of the other jewels in Tassie’s crown: the trout! Not being particularly clever, we went for Option B: trout fishing in the snow. It’s a uniquely Tasmanian thing, which anglers should try at least once in their lives. Or, at least, that’s what we told ourselves—albeit with a touch more swearing. With the trout season just starting and the snow just starting to dust the hills
around Launceston, we hitched up our Bar Crusher 670BR to the mighty MU-X and headed into the Big Chill. The destination we chose was Great Lake, which is in the highlands. The forecast was for a little snow for the next 24 hours, before a big dump the next day. We figured we’d get in and out quickly with some snow for atmosphere and a couple of trout for dinner. Conditions cooled as we made our way up the hill. The MU-X’s outside temperature gauge indicated -4°C. It was actually too cold to snow and the road was becoming very icy. We took it slow and remained in total control as the
