February 2021 - Issue 185 - The Fishing Paper and Hunting News

Dennis will be involved in sales, parts and servicing and brings over 20 years experience in the marine industry

Harris, Heath Hendrickson and Luke Blanchet will guarantee our customers get the

62 Gladstone Road, Richmond, Nelson 03 544 6120

Marine

The lucky rod

Pete Connolly

Having helped mate Terry Julian launch his boat, I was about to walk back up Nelson’s ramp when I heard the sickening rumble of a boat rolling off the trailer onto the hard—not a great start for someone. However, helping the boatie regain some decorum provided an interlude while I waited for my ride; I’d

Bell and his twin sons Lucas

drop in and buy a bag of crisps when you are passing.

It was the standard snapper start: 4.30am at the ramp followed by a quick steam to 27m. Berley down and lines in the water—then the waiting game.

“This is my lucky rod,” Lucas said as he set it in the stern rod holder. Dylan was

“I know,” I replied, “I caught a snapper on it last time we were out.”

The clock ticked 20 minutes off before Lucky bent double. It had been

Lucas with a 'Lucky' lump of

I nodded to Lucas, “You might have something there.”

He shot across the deck like a panther and attacked the reel while the rod was anchored in the holder, winding like something from ‘Wicked Tuna’.

“Hey, easy on fella,” I cautioned, “that looks like a twenty-pounder you’ve got there!”

The fight went on; big head shakes and thumping runs. Full on adrenaline inducing excitement. Then it broached beside the boat. My call wasn’t bad—just shy of the mark at eighteen and a half pound.

In the afterglow of the catch, Lucas rebaited with another whole pille, but he didn’t factor in sibling rivalry. While he was distracted, brother Dylan deftly sideslipped into the hot spot, taking up the stern position, hell bent on catching a big snapper too.

“Daaaad, that’s my spot!” complained the snapper slayer but I soothed his weeping wound by reminding him that snapper move about in the current and the side spot was just as

Well, that clock was a mechanism of habit because it ticked by another 20 minutes before Lucky bent double again. Lucas was all grins whereas Dylan wore a look of disbelief—clearly gutted his strategic move hadn’t paid off. It was light when both snapper hooked up but the sun was shy of cresting distant Mackay Bluff. Lucas hauled in a nice fourteen pounder to make it a brace of big snapper and then moment the sun hit the water, the snapper went off the bite. The boys landed a few nice gurnard after that and we had a tussle with a lucky seven giller but snapper were done

Unpredictable. Sometimes strategic positioning pays off, but—sometimes—it just pays to have a lucky rod.

fish

When preparedness meets opportunity

It’s all about creating opportunities. Being in the right place, at the right time, rides on opportunities taken.

mission to Marlborough Sounds, some opportunities were converted, and others went begging. But that’s what makes a good trip a great trip. Enough success to make it worthwhile, and

enough ‘what ifs’ to create business!

Using sweep for berley, we were hoping to entice for a look. Although in the water early, we hadn’t seen any sign all morning. Every now and then I would do a deeper drop to see if anything was lurking along

Bryn Williams

the drop off. As I came up from one dive, I saw three the surface. I called out to my mate, “Kings heading your way! Just behind you!”

inquisitive and swam directly underneath him. Misjudging the distance due to the water clarity (which we are not used coming from Kaikoura), his shot fell short and the

A created opportunity but no result. Nonetheless, the boys were still pumped seeing the

A quiet hour passed, but we knew this was a patience of “FISH ON!” through a snorkel. I turned to see Chris

me to dive and put a second shot in it. He had a great holding shot that clipped the backbone meaning power. He was in control. was iki’d, bled, and went straight on ice. When the opportunity had presented, Chris capitalised. With morale lifted, we changed spots and were surrounded by juvenile

snapper. Hundreds of them. I thought a bigger model may have come in for a look on the berley, but they were obviously too smart. The snapper had distracted me, when another

within range. I heard the distinct sound of a speargun over to see another mate with an average tail shot. A quick change of direction at the last moment had presented an awkward angle. lining up a second shot, but few big beats of its tail and freed itself. Unfortunately, there was plenty of time to replay the events, as no more

running, and before too long, past. My focus shifted to back. Just as I needed air, so I pulled the trigger. It was a rushed shot, the spear coming up short. The school drifted to deeper water. Another opportunity gone begging.

Another opportunity lost. The following morning there was the added time pressure to get the job done—we had to leave by midday. The tide was

It was literally the last dive of the day. One mate had swum back to the anchored boat and came to collect us. I made a drop, trying to nab a blue cod at the very least. As I hit the bottom, I looked up and was presented with three

was already pointing in the and it was an opportunity I wasn’t going to waste. I was so close the shaft went all the way through and up the shooting line. The shot was centre but hadn’t hit the still had plenty of sting. My dive buddy secured it with a better holding shot. It was a brilliant way to end the trip, the last dive producing the goods. You could say it was luck, but we had put ourselves in the right place, at the right time, with the right gear—creating an opportunity.

Finance to float

Chris Young was stoked with his first kingi

Bryn and Myles Hamilton tag teamed to get this kingi

A year into a world with COVID, Daryl Sykes reviews the start of a new year with a perspective on managing fishing and discovers that…

Rogues are hammering our kaimoana

No doubt many will have started 2021 flushed with enthusiasm and good intentions. New Year’s resolutions and all that … not me; I am still hunkered down, taking stock of the very significant changes to lives and lifestyles that were wrought on the world during 2020, and which have drafted across into 2021 with no real prospect of resolution or even improvement.

COVID -19 is our new Zealand rock lobster industry, it emerged in late January 2020 and almost immediately terminated the lucrative Chinese live lobster export market, on which we are even now so dependent. The initial impacts were both economically and emotionally painful for industry participants.

COVID had not yet been felt by any other export sectors or by other major New Zealand businesses. At the time, there was little love for the lobster industry— with senior politicians chastising the reliance on a single market, in preference to them focusing on the problem confronting the industry—being one which came to confront the nation.

Very quickly it was not only the lobster industry—forestry, horticultural and agricultural export markets were also shutting down. International travel and our economically important tourism industry were stricken.

Unemployment was the new reality for many New Zealanders. Lockdowns; community transmission; an unfortunate but by any recent measure, modest death toll attributed to COVID; relentless hand washing, hand wringing and speculation and then, when lockdown was relaxed, a period through to our current summer during which New Zealanders sought their own comfort zones and settled as best they could into life under COVID.

Home tourists out and about

A very large number of New Zealanders decided in 2020 to see their own country. Overseas travel was not an option—and still isn’t—but we couldn’t just stay at home.

Off to the beach we went, off to see the sights and diving. Where I live in the Lower North Island, the level dive activity was massive. Weather and sea conditions over the Christmas/New Year period could not have been better for locals and holiday makers wanting to gather kaimoana.

Fisheries o icers out-gunned

Fisheries Compliance

along the coastline, but they just were not visible often enough. At my local boat ramp the early risers heading out to lift their pots were on their return—and some of them were clearly not

incoming Ministers distributed in December 2020, MPI and Fisheries New Zealand correctly reported that recreational that makes an important economic contribution in many coastal areas. According to MPI approximately 600,000 New

previous paragraph—in a brief into Ministers after the 2020 General Election, the Ministry can only relate the details to 2018—nothing more recent.

The report goes on to say that a recreational allowance is set as part of the Total Allowable Catch (TAC), and management measures include bag limits, minimum

information. Catches, disposals and landings by commercial operators are monitored and audited and landings must be ‘balanced’ by the relevant annual catch entitlements (ACE). Accountability for all and so too are the penalties for breaches of record keeping and reporting rules.

Anywhere a vehicle could be parked so that occupants had a short walk to the were being strip-mined. And at the end of a day when all those vehicles had departed, broken glass and rubbish, including the litter of undersized paua shells, were evidence of the attitude of their occupants.

compliant, given the body language. The deterrent factor was almost immediate because as soon as the man in uniform was spotted lifting seat covers and emptying catch bags, every VHF radio in the vicinity was crackling with the news. On the day, every vessel that subsequently came ashore was guaranteed to be compliant. Not so much a few days later when news had come through that MPI was checking ‘up the coast’. Back at my local ramp the opportunists and local rogues just resumed normal transmission.

and in 2018 New Zealanders trips, catching over 7

are no more recent data, but you can be certain that the activity has been no less

Ministry bereft of data

states that recreational

But there is an important omission in that report—‘we cannot manage what we cannot measure’. Pause for a moment and re-read the

legal sizes, and seasonal and spatial closures. All of which is true, but the issue

Dead fish is a dead fish

needs to be managed so that removals do not exceed sustainable levels. And the Ministry is still struggling to keep track of recreational removals.

Commercial catches a matter or record

With commercial and are long-established mandatory record keeping and reporting provisions. and their activities are monitored at sea. MPI/ Fisheries New Zealand have recently transformed how they gather information by rolling out digital monitoring technology that provides more timely and accurate data. This includes

report their effort, catch and location electronically in near real time.

observers on commercial vessels to independently

Working on the basis who killed it, and given the increased recreational effort evident across most inshore have been promoted by the COVID situation—and taking account of that situation not likely to be changing soon, it is timely for senior MPI/FNZ managers to reconsider their

The legacy of the summer of 2020/21 where I live is localised serial depletion of every edible marine species in the littoral zone along kilometres of coastline—and summer is not even over. Utilisation whilst ensuring sustainability is taking a hammering. We cannot manage what we cannot measure.

A good catch of kaimoana Rush hour at the ramp

COVID has left us all at sea

Note to Selfe

Matey Ken called up and suggested we attend the High Country Opening and said he’d take me into Lake

onto our old favourite Lake Clearwater.

As always, we pass a heck of a lot of trout to get to the High Country but it’s the change of scenery as much as anything that inspires us to return each year. Up through the mountains, across the pass, around Lake Lyndon on the dry weather road, where I had a touch, then a brief encounter with a

very small salmon. Back into the hills again at Lake Coleridge station, past Georgina and on to Selfe, which immediately captivated me with its beautiful water, dark green weed-beds, interspersed with pale open areas across the bottom. Almost immediately we saw rainbows cruising

After a time we headed for Mt Somers and the holiday park, checked in and went up to Lake Emma for a prospect, then on to Clearwater. However, it blew and began to get seriously cold, so we left early.

Next day we went back for another go on Clearwater and it was a screaming westerly with white caps across the wind and managed a modest but well-

Hamish appeared and kindly took a photo of me with the trout before it was released. Conditions again curtailed any thoughts of an extensive time up there, so we scarpered back to base camp.

Being gluttons for punishment at the hands of the weather, the next day we went back to Clearwater with the wind going southerly, the lee of a headland was a useful place to give the

photographed and released. The southerly increased in velocity and sleety rain began, not pleasant at all but that’s life in the mountains.

Sunday dawned more like ‘Wetday,’ with the snow down low overnight, did a tiki tour to meet an old mate of Ken’s who

He introduced us to his beautiful canine mate, his animals he’d produced, his homemade and palatable whisky in the Spey Valley style. This is a part of what

but more the wonderful people and places you get to visit.

Monday was time to start for home and along the way we had another look at Selfe, where we spotted some elusive cruising rainbows. We then began our own cruise toward the West Coast. It had been a wide ranging trip with a number of lakes visited but that new lake for me was a stunner.

Note to Selfe, “I’ll be back.”

TOPWATER FISHING GEAR

Lake Selfe

Ivan Wilson about to release a Lake Clearwater brown Photo credit Ranger Hamish

Kingies a ack en masse

Blair Whiting

This was one of those days where everything seemed to not be going our way. I’d had a reel break and my into the water without the bung in. After what seemed managed to get out into the ocean.

As luck would have it, our poor start to the day was about to turn. Birds were working as far as the eye could see and clean blue water was pushing in from the east. Never had I seen Hawkes Bay.

It was a simple task to sabiki’s with a line full of fresh jack mackerel. Since the original plan was to go we had to improvise. With just a bait-runner aboard (thankfully with strong enough braid) I set to work at making up a rig out of

sinker and an 8/0 circle hook. Although there were yet, the massive schools of

bait were too good to leave. We dropped anchor and set up some berley to keep the

The first mackerel went in and it wasn’t long before multiple kingies were fighting each other to eat him first.

Simon was on the rod and it was great to see him get it aboard, we realised just 11kg. Simon quickly bled slurry. They taste so much better once the blood is out of them. The ice is important for eating quality and also

out of the bin, we grabbed another bait. When you bring one his mates will be following

NEW FISHING SYSTEM™

closely behind. I looked over the side of the

were waiting patiently for the next mackerel. It was my turn on the rod. What followed was probably the most spectacular series of bites I’ve ever seen. Three

onto the poor mackerel and took turns trying to eat him.

nowhere to inhale the bait in a split second; the rest of school followed attempting to steal the bait from him.

bait supply was becoming low so I dropped the sabiki

but anytime I hooked a quickly onto it and took the free meal before I could get them halfway up. We continued to catch

we ran out of live baits. Although they weren’t huge spectacle they produce can be just as good as a big one.

Simon Cartwright holding his 11kg kingfish

Cou a’s Cut: Coutta

I’ve had a rough idea for actually, that modern technology has passed me by. I really didn’t even see it when it streaked past.

Now, I’m not a complete techno illiterate. This article proves I can use a keyboard and only sometimes have to email it to Crimpy. I can turn on the TV and even change the channels. Providing my Furuno sounder is set to auto range and gain, I have no real issues there. My GPS is a bit of a challenge but I usually manage to press the right buttons and get where I want to go. I avoid changing between screens.

The other evening, I was sitting in my boat on the Tauranga Harbour. It was change of light and the tide had just started moving. What’s this got to do with modern technology you may ask?

snapper and thought I had a call and let her know all was well. She sometimes appears disappointed at this news but I give it to her anyway. I have a smart phone mainly because my

daughters told me I needed one. I don’t have any apps. In fact, I’ve got no real idea what an app is. That was a whole new learning curve but eventually, I’m proud to say, I can take photos and, with weeks of practice, put them on Facebook. I can text and am pretty good at doing what few people do on phones anymore; I can

ring people and actually have conversations as opposed to sending them things like, “How r u” and “LOL” and “LMAO.”

On this occasion I picked up my phone to use the complicated latter mentioned function. My slimy and I had to have a couple of swipes even to open the bloody thing.

I have no idea what

happened next or even how I got to the screen but suddenly up popped, “Ask me something”. I didn’t take much notice but said to myself but obviously loud enough for the phone to hear, “Oh f##k off,” and tried to swipe it again to get to my contact list. It didn’t go there but instead it came up with a detailed description as to what I had apparently asked it, which I assure you I hadn’t. I know one thing though, I don’t need an expensive cell phone to explain to me what “f##k off” means. I learnt that when one night my mum and dad were out and I was sprung listening at my big brother’s bedroom door when he had a bought a girlfriend home.

As this is essentially a I’ve just described, I caught

water. I used a litre of fuel in the boat, which meant since to Tauranga and back, my bloody diesel tax cost me more than my boat fuel bill. Never mind, catch you next month.

Weird looking kahawai

Tracy Barclay

“James! I have something, James! James where are you?”

“Keep the tension on mum.”

I kept winding in but as James comes over he says, “Don’t just keep winding mum, let it run, play with it, tire it out.”

Naturally I let the bail arm go on the reel to let line out, to let it run.

“NOOOO, keep the tension on, close the bail arm, just let it pull away!” yelled James.

Sooooo confusing. However, with great advice I

in. It looked big and looked nothing like the kahawai I

was expecting.

“Well done mum, oh my gosh mum, it is a sea run trout and it is big. Keep the pressure on!” shouted James excitedly.

I originally decided to go while on holiday down at Okarito. We had been lake in the morning and my husband and James had both caught salmon, which was awesome. We got back to our accommodation and it was raining, but James wanted to head down to the river mouth and catch some kahawai for bait to use surf casting that evening.

James had been down at

the mouth for about an hour in the rain, so I went down to see how he was going and keep him company. I took my husband’s spinning rod with a kahawai lure on it to continue my lessons on spinning. Just as I got there James decided to change his lure. I have to admit here, I casting and constantly hope second cast I hooked up and you know the rest. Out of the whole experience the best part was having my son James there, excited and working together photo and release it. This is a memory I will hold onto in the future.

Tracy discovered there's a snag to casting FAARK!

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Available at your local tackle store.

A vexing question

Why do lures work in some places but not others?

such as snapper and gurnard is something I have had limited success with here in Hawkes Bay. I have caught but nothing compared to

Interestingly, when I have been on trips away to places

I’ve had the same thing happen with gurnard but more-so with Inchiku jigs. Most of the time a lure sitting in the holder caught the

Back at home I have used the same techniques, but all too often the lures are left untouched in favour of the is the different food source,

that way. Backing this up, to the south of Cape Kidnappers, lures begin to

less polluted and cleaner water resides. Now I have had exceptions to this rule, for example catching a snapper in muddy coloured water on an unscented soft

same spot a week later with clearer water and caught not

such as Coromandel and the Upper South Island it was dead easy to drop down a lure and trigger a bite. Why does it work so well in some parts of the country but not others?

Let’s start in Coromandel; the waters are typically clean, full of structure and very sheltered from the open ocean. Snapper are the main target. I have used soft-baits and lures like Kabura’s to great effect. You barely need to work them sometimes. I

them behind me. Even full metal jigs are taken regularly

especially for snapper. Our pinkies do not appear to feed them feeding underneath kahawai up north, but that is not the case here. Our snapper feed on mostly

crabs. A lure is a long way from a some of these, but it still does not explain it fully, since something moving on the bottom should spark some interest.

My second theory is Hawke’s Bay's poor water hunt using smell over sight

entire day.

Gurnard are the saving grace in the bay, they can be targeted on small scented curly tail plastics, but they have nowhere near the success of a cut piece of bullet tuna. Fishing them side by side its usually about I think lures have a ton of potential here in Hawkes is reluctant to change in this part of the country. I hope to work out the code one day, on light tackle is much more appealing than winching in

Lance uses Black Magic Fluorocarbon Tippet as it’s “more abrasion resistant, ideal for those cunning Trout that want to snag you on everything in sight”

Lance Gill - Rainbow Trout

Fluorocarbon Tippet

Blair Whiting

A rare Hawkes Bay lure caught bottom fish - on a 3.5in Dartspin soft plastic

PISTOL SHOOTING

Brian Bishop

Pistol shooting and reloading

A major part of pistol shooting is the enjoyment of shooting larger numbers than if you go hunting. As a rule, 300+ rounds for some is quite normal. I say some because some people just don’t shoot as much as others. I can’t understand it myself, as the more the merrier—whilst understanding that money and time can be a big part of their reasoning.

So most of us reload. There are a few who buy due to the lower numbers and the sharp pricing that 9mm can be bought at if you buy smart but, for the rest, cash is saved in reloading.

So what press to buy?

While I started with a Lee 1000 Progressive, it wasn’t that long before I upgraded to Dillon 550 after so many other shooters swore by Dillon presses and their No

Bull Shit warranty. Nothing has made me regret that change. I have had a couple of small issues that I needed back up on and Dillon came even with it being a second hand press and over 20 years between problems—they still had me and an old address

Time is precious so a press that can load 100s per hour is required (300 or 400 an hour isn’t even fast). The added advantages of hand loads is we customise for the different guns then some change can be done to the guns so that we can get the best from both. That way we can have them doing the projectile speed we want— that is the best weight, shape and size for our personal taste.

It is surprising the difference between guns when using the same ammo. So we play with different powders, as they have different burn rates; use the wrong one and blowing up a

gun is very possible, hell you can do that by just using the wrong amounts: too much or too little in some cases. Some others just make huge barrel as the powder is still burning after exiting. Still looks cool but does nothing for the speed, as it is too late. Also of course there is limited space inside the case so that is also a factor. While some down load, I shoot IPSC and we have what we call major power factor, so mine are a bit hotter than normal. At 1360 feet per second with a 124 grain projectile, which is about 300fps more than the normal.

Within our club we help those just starting out reloading, as it can save a lot of time and is by far safer for all on the range. Don’t be a fool though, if you do not have support or knowledge of reloading then you shouldn’t try it, as it requires practise and repetition or it can go very badly.

The bugger me bluey

Murray Coig

It was a case of everyone going a bit stir-crazy over Christmas and New Year, due to the weather being very average.

To restore sanity and a bit of order, I took advantage of a small window in early January and put to sea. A few mates joined me on Tight Lines with the express purpose of snagging a few groper.

The sea conditions were near perfect, something of a rarity off the Canterbury

coast, and we dropped our lines with eager anticipation. We all had on groper rigs and wasted no time plumbing the depths for chunky hapuka.

The take certainly felt like a groper and it had a bit of weight to it but, bugger me, the anticipated grey turned to a metallic sheen of blue when it surfaced—a thumper of a blue cod.

I had never seen let alone caught one that big before, it was huge. In fact, 3.76kg of

bluey to be precise.

We caught a few more blueys in the two kilo range, which suggests the blue Canterbury is alive and well. They have to be good blueys if they can wrap their lips around a groper hook! All this in 77m of water. on form that day because we each caught two groper as well—great antidote to cabin fever!

Murray with a thumper Canterbury bluey

Adrenaline buck in civvies

My husband Andrew has always been a keen hunter

I’ve become intrigued and wondered what all the fuss was about.

Sam and Shawnee from Southern Peak’s Safari’s are regulars in store and, after a few chats with Andrew, they hooked me up a hunt out on the game park behind a few fallow bucks in antler but they’d soon be shed. It was late September and a beautiful Canterbury morning as we made our way toward the back of the 2,000 acre park. The park connects to the DOC estate which goes on forever and, with a lot of fencing in of game between the blocks.

Tussock, matagouri and some fairly thick manuka stands stood before the snow capped alps as the 4WD Toyota Landcruiser crawled up ridges and traversed gullies.

Amanda Wallace

Eventually we spotted a fallow in the distance… time to see if these running shoes were going to do the work, or maybe I’d roll an ankle?

Using Andrew’s .308 Sauer 100 with Leupold VX6 2-12x42 and DPT Suppressor,Sako 123gr soft point would give a maxed out range of roughly 400 metres—according to the boys.

So we started off down to get in range but after 20 metres there was a rustle and four spooked reds bolted, heading right for the fallow.

reds didn’t freak the fallow out we kept our course. Down on a lower ridge we saw the fallow buck disappear into a gully. After more glassing we turned to

of them through the manuka and with no chance of getting a safe shot away, we slowly headed off after them. With the light wind in our favour and moving slow and quiet, we found them in a clearing. My heart was racing as we kept low commando crawling. Armed with a couple of whispered pointers from my trusty guides, I lined up my shot and very gently squeezed the trigger. Down he went!

We gutted the animal, estimated at just under 100kg, and carried it out. Fair to say I was a bit knackered by the time we got back to the truck and needed a bit of hand to get it onto the blood stained deck.

What a day, what a feeling: adrenaline rush, sense of achievement and the excited disbelief of my kids when they saw what I’d brought home for dinner.

I’ve been out again over Christmas getting a wild doe,

Unloading our gear and not owning any hunting clothes or boots, I wondered if my work jacket, 3/4 tights and running shoes were going to cut the mustard… no turning back now I thought.

I like to talk a lot and can’t sit still for long so keeping my mouth shut while we glassed the faces (which to me seemed like eternity) struck me as quite an odd pastime.

see the buck on the skyline of a ridge we just come down off!

We knew there were other bucks in the block but hadn’t seen them, so back up we went. At the top the manuka was tall and thick—what way to go?

Soon we got to a clearing and, while taking a breather, saw three fallow bucks trot past less than 30 metres away. We only got a glimpse

so it looks like I might be getting the bug—better see about some proper hunting

If you think you’d like to give it crack, Sam and Shawnee are locals who know their way around the traps, so you’ll have a great time whether you do a

Shooter’s Supplies Amanda Wallace up the back of Springfield

Fat lady sings

Curmudgeonly; such an glorious summer’s morn. The glory is wasted on me. My halo hangs askew, my aura is black and green and blue, I’m an angry and grumpy old moo. No reason. I just woke this way and I cannot shake it.

Wearing furrowed brow and devil horns, I track a fresh-laid trail through the dew-soaked grass. With breeze in my favour, I stalk my quarry till he is near at hand. I cannot see him through a screen of hawthorn and broom, so I wait, impatiently, for dragging seconds. He is grazing. I hear his teeth tear the rank grass, hear him chew, then swallow, his long tail thuds against his side as wait, wait.

My quarry does not see the evil. Nor does he hear the evil. He senses the evil.

The eating noises cease. I hear him inhale. Then, in a blind panic, he charges off into the forest. I track him, joining the dots, which in this case are gouged soil and small splatters of excrement. He is waiting for me, head low as he peers under the dense scrub. Then, once I’m upon, him he explodes out of his hidey-hole with

tail and head high. He stampedes off into the Never Never without a backwards glance.

Lesson learnt. My quarry might be a mad cow but I’m the one who needs to pull my horns in.

Mad cow? Actually he’s a mad steer. He and his buddies have spent three years gone-bush and doing the wild-thing hereabouts but it has been decided by those who rule from afar that the cloven hooves, the excrement and the feeding habits of the mob are degrading an area recently deemed ‘environmentally

The grazing-leasee whittled away at the semi-wild mobsters for weeks on end. Initially with treats of fodder and salt and a ‘come hither’ call. Then, as numbers diminished, the more cunning and reluctant to leave their wooded sanctuary. Extrication became more hair-raising were sent galloping towards domesticity—harried and herded till they were galloping with tongues lolling. They left the forest defeated, their tongues dust-encrusted, their spirits broken.

Kim Swan

A month later a hunter espied the piebald colouring of a Friesian steer as it ghosted into the scrub. Evidently a lone animal had evaded the good, the bad and the ugly.

Hunted, haunted and lonesome, the steer became ever more feral. No fence would ever contain him, no stock-truck would ever welcome him aboard and no abattoir would spill his blood or strip his skin.

“Shoot him,” said the exasperated leasee.

Easier said than done. The steer had become as elusive as any tusky old boar or freerange trophy stag. Besides, he’d have to fall where he could be retrieved. His steak may be dark and lean and tough but it was steak!

After being busted yesterday, I approached the scene today with my smile on right-side-up and my halo sitting just-so. I’d gone so far as to turn up my radio and to sing, loud and badly, as I drove into the forest. Then it was hush and all senses honed. I found tracks. I stealthed and I found him grazing once more.

This time, when he threw his head high then trotted into cover, I knew his pattern. Minutes ticked as

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I tracked silently and ever so slowly. Eventually, a dapple of sunlight splashed through the shade of yonder hawthorn was not sunlight at all, it was white cowhide. Just 20 metres away and absolutely still, was the steer. He was hiding. I could not decipher bum from brow so I waited.

Sometimes a twitch, sometimes a tail swish but no target zone was exposed. Eventually, when he was certain the coast was clear, the big fella belched a methane-tainted belch then dropped to his knees before collapsing into the cool soil to sleep off the stress.

back over his distended belly which was my target. I saw him and he saw me. He paused then and I imagined him thinking to himself.

“This can’t be true. That can’t be a human right there. I’m going to turn my head away again, count to three, look back and if it IS a human, I’m outta here!”

The steer turned his head away and started counting. I reminded myself now was pull my shot before slipping off the safety with my thumb and bracing for recoil.

The steer’s head turned back my way, ears forward, eyes bulging. The tiny

projectile took him by surprise, killed him outright adrenaline and his heart was storming his bloodstream with oxygen. Even deceased his body wanted to run, to leave but it was too late. Yes, he was going to leave the forest today but he would be in manageable-sized pieces.

The truck sat heavy as I drove from the forest with my haul of beef.

been spared, perceived environmental crisis averted, mission complete. The radio was back on, the volume cranked right up. Then the fat lady broke into song, it’s over.

A grunty lesson learned

At 15m, with my thumb on the lever, I let him have it.

I couldn’t last any longer, eight days into the study for exams I took the opportunity to go for a quick afternoon bow hunt. It had just rained so I knew there would be a good chance to see a pig.

Before long, I was seeing the odd bit of pig-rooting. While following some prints, I walked up on three pigs. A big old sow let off an alerting grunt, giving me quite a fright. I instantly froze in the hope she might lose interest in me and continue digging her hole. Sure enough, she relaxed and started digging, occasionally looking at me from 10m away. It was clear she was pregnant, so I wasn’t interested in shooting her.

However, there was a smaller 40lber down the hill and a nice big boar further up the hill, making his way down. The boar soon after called the others and moved to a different location, with me following closely behind.

Ten minutes later and the pigs were digging, so I made my move. I snuck up, hiding behind a tree. The boar was moved around till I found a clear pathway for my arrow. As soon as he turned

Max Barclay

broadside, I sent an arrow his way, hitting him perfectly behind the shoulder.

Previously, I arrowed a small boar at the same distance, with the same arrow setup, Easton Power Flight using a large cut diameter mechanical broadhead, and the arrow went straight through the pig. This pig was well over 100lb and the arrow made, at most, 10cm into his side, which

sent him trotting off.

Not a drop of blood, all I had was footprints leading me to him. 40 minutes later, lying down, he saw me, grunted and ran off again. There was a couple of drops of blood where he was lying, so I knew he was going to live another day.

After thinking about the shot, I believe I might have hit the back edge of the boar’s shoulder plate.

Combined with big-hard ribs, my arrow set up didn’t stand a chance. I learned a good lesson that day, mechanical broadheads aren’t very good for big pigs. I have now changed to a using a Sika Stopper arrow, with an outsert weighing in at 470 grains. An almost indestructible setup that, I hope, will see that pig in the freezer in the near future.

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Wild boar take some stopping

Rollercoaster ends on high

After two days of I threw out an olive green rapala and started trolling. I trolled close by the mussel farms trying my best to lure a big kingi out of the ropes but, after 45

minutes of burning fuel, I was ready to give up and catch some gurnard.

Despite seeing no sign

do one more lap around

the farms. It had just reached those magical minutes where the sun began to sparkle on the glassy ocean when I heard the noise, the noise every

motor off and held on, this wasn’t gonna be an easy

chance to process what was happening, I felt the line lose tension, followed by a sinking feeling in my stomach.

I took a moment to calm myself and wind in, it was then I noticed that the line had broken two metres above the swivel.

I was distraught, a rookie mistake that wouldn’t have happened if had just

four metres of line off the reel. Over time your line can get nicked by rocks, ropes and damaged by the sun, so it’s important to always check for weaknesses.

With the morning not off to a great start, I tried to salvage the day by tying up in the mussel farms with some berley, hoping to get on to the elusive spawning snapper or a few

nice gurnard. My outlook on the day changed as I was quickly hauling in huge gurnard, one after the other, I was struggling to keep my line on the bottom, a problem no one would complain about.

As I reached high tide

slow down, until my live bait, which had been waiting patiently in the corner, bent over and started losing line. I knew Immediately what it was, the powerful head shakes could only come from one species… snapper!

Unfortunately, as with was short lived and for the same reason; my line had snapped only inches from the swivel. was gutted, as I knew it was my fault, however this gave me some excitement as I now knew there were snapper in the area.

Fortunately my misery was gone as quick as the big snapper and I was soon slaying more gurnard. The plan was head home for a feed. was contemplating packing up early as I had gurnard when, out of nowhere, my rod went off. It shot up with some fast aggressive shakes, unlike anything I had fought before. It provided a heavy bend and tried its best to take me into

the ropes. I quickly managed to turn its head and started to see some colour… A huge john dory emerged from the depths. I couldn’t believe my eyes—my second JD. As I fumbled to grab the

and splash on the surface. There’s no way I’m landing

was overjoyed, my second john dory ever!

over in my mind. Luckily, I was able to slide the net beneath the golden beast and haul it into the boat. I

The day was an emotional rollercoaster, which, thankfully, ended on a high as well as teaching me an important lesson—always check your tackle!

showing her how to catch

While Mel is a novice really took to her—no doubt because of her lovely personality—and literally queued up for a turn on her line. She even pulled up two at a time at one stage. and enough to feed the entire bach of holidaymakers for days.

Mel said it took a bit to get because she was used to a short stiff rod with not much action.

While Mel was cleaning up of bugger all, caught bugger all and contributed bugger all was useful at keeping spiny dogs away from Mel’s line but did get the sulks real bad when she became the centre of attention—it was a bit of a ‘moistie moment’.

Now takes no joy in exposing shame on you for bumping Mel aside and stealing her gurnard so you could be a poster boy on your own

Ant Corke

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Night vision goggles for marine navigation

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STICK YOUR OAR IN

HAVE YOUR SAY…

email all your letters to

Is proposed beach by-law rampant discrimination?

Dear Ed,

I am 72 years old and still reasonably fit but there is no way I could walk to Cape Campbell. The Marlborough District Council’s proposal to close the beach access to vehicles will mean that I and many others will have to give up our recreational activities of diving and crayfishing. Walking, horse riding and cycling over these distances will only be available to the young or the super fit. Recreation is more than looking after the leg muscles.

The justification for the vehicle ban are the claims that vehicles are damaging the dunes, vegetation, nesting bird areas and historic pa sites. This is based on poor research with the areas of concern well above the high tide line, an area where vehicles do not travel.

The last four years since the earthquake, the fishermen have made several positive steps to solve the problem so that everyone can enjoy and care for this area. This started with the Voluntary Code of Conduct, which was agreed to by most vehicle users, followed by the placement of signs and barriers to direct vehicles to a single suitable pathway. This has been very successful with no vehicles accessing the dunes from Marfells Beach to Canterbury Gully. In the last few weeks only a few vehicles have travelled along the beach in front of the camp area and

these were below the high tide line.

The claim that the vehicles are a safety risk is not supported by records kept by the Police or others and it must be noted that that many walkers have been assisted by fishermen, the most common problems being twisted ankles and exhaustion. There are already su cient rules controlling vehicles under the NZ Transport Act and all road rules apply.

I feel that the Council is over reacting to pressure applied by conservationists and some adjoining landowners who want to control access to the coastline.

I believe that the banning of vehicles by the Marlborough District Council is discriminating against the older people and those with mobility problems. It will also prohibit children partaking and enjoying recreational activities, learning about our environment and how to care for it, the history of the area and spending time with family in our local area.

Isn’t this coastline of our beautiful country there to be enjoyed by everyone? Is this area going to be locked up and out of bounds except for a few for ever?

Please, put in a submission to the Council when they are called for and tell them what you think.

I strongly believe in Recreational Access With Education.

R. Hambleton.

Hypocrisy

Marfels Beach is my closest fishing ground, so for 25 years that’s where I’ve been going as it’s my basic right.

I launch my dinghy o the beach, targeting cod. Twenty-five years ago my legal limit was 30, but that limit has diminished to two— even though I regularly see 30 commercial cod pots in this declining fishery. The most I have ever taken in one day is six, because I only take what I need. Other times I bring my quad bike down, then ride around to the lighthouse in search of crays and pre-quake pāua, a trip of about 10km one way.

After the quake, from the lighthouse down, was a sad sight with many kilometres of reef with the low tide mark sitting at high tide mark. Most of the crays got away but the pāua weren’t so lucky. So I got down there when I could for the next ten days relocating Pāua. A year later, underwater the seaweed was basically back to normal, and this year the foreshore is basically back to normal. But the live pāua reefs exposed to the dry and sun are crumbling and the sea is reclaiming them—it’s nature and it will heal itself.

For years a lobby group comprising of some local farmers and anyone interested in what they stand for, has been trying to get rid of the quad bikers and the last couple of years whinging it’s been: the Katipō, the skinks, dotterels, and the foreshore, which have all turned out duds. But now it’s the reefs need time to recover.

But I’m afraid these people are a bit late because the new reef system born on the night of the quake was the first to recover with its plant life and people are looking at the old sea bed two metres

higher and the crumbling papa is called erosion. I took a ride down there the other day and went seven Kms pst the light house, all on sand below the high tide mark easily and this is when I snapped my picture I’ve named ‘Hypocrisy!’

This lobby group now has council backing and this week council has called for submissions, as it voted unanimously to draft a by-law banning all vehicles from this section of beach, and saying, ‘No worries, you can get around there in your boat from Marfels or Ward beaches.’ However, you can’t launch a boat at Ward

unless you have a dozer and it is too dangerous to take a small boat through the Cape Campbell reef.

I’ve shorn a lot of sheep in my life and my knees are too dodgy to walk that far, so I lose my access on a perfectly legal ride.

I take pride in providing my family with the best food available and hunter gathering is the oldest skill in the world, all done while helping me keep myself fit. We cannot let this happen as this is why we have the Queen’s Chain, to set ourselves apart from the miseries of Europe.

My fellow fishers, you have

to to help us, as we could lose all of our rights, so send in your submissions because you could be next.

An easy and workable solution would be: let the quads on the beaches three hours either side of low tide and strictly forbidden above high tide zone and on the reef—with signage stating the simple rules and penalties.. Anyone caught doing so will be skinned alive,

There should be plenty of people over there to keep any dickheads inline because sensible people know what is at stake.

Joe Harrison

Should we loose access?

Tristan’s king head-bu

Dominik Berghamer

The weather had been pretty good and we had been on the boat at least once a week, so the preschool teachers were not exactly surprised when I told them Tristan would not come the next morning. As per usual, we got up shortly after 4.00am, got ourselves and the boat ready, and off to the ramp we went.

After arriving at our spot buddy didn’t lose any time instructing me how he wanted his set rigged up.

Two smallish circle hooks on a dropper rig, a squat lobster on the bottom hook and a larger piece of squid on the top one—good choice! He stuck the rod in the holder, opened the bail arm and down it went.

I turned around to set up my own gear but only got as far as attaching a sinker when Tristan’s rod buckled over and line started peeling off. Since it he resorted to his proven tactic of leaving the rod in the holder and winding in boat’s movement to his advantage. Unfortunately, 10lbs—came off close to the boat, but Tristan wasn’t too worried. He was after kahawai, served as sashimi with soy sauce.

rig, Tristan had already dropped and wound in his line again. This time, a decent sized gurnard was attached to the bottom hook. A good start, but then the

Kingi out

The late Edward Deming once said, ‘without data, you’re just another person with an opinion.’

Dr Deming’s sayings are well regarded in management and policy circles alike because e ectiveness in both requires reliable data and robust analysis before drawing relevant conclusions and acting.

A primary concern of Fish Mainland is the absence of data on marine recreational fishing, which has been a major contributor to that sector being ignored as successive governments perpetuated imbalanced fisheries management and environmental objectives.

Fish Mainland is focused on addressing these

our bait.

We had some breakfast, inspected our colourful catch, scooped up a few from around the boat, waited to the conclusion that the morning.

Plan B was to head over to the spat farm and hunt for

We had trolled our lure for about 30 minutes when the Torium started screaming.

mussel ropes but a thumb on the spool of 80lbs line and the boat steering in the opposite direction very effectively prevented that. A safe distance from the farm, I stopped the boat and made it back to the ropes. Tristan was squealing with excitement, didn’t spare his advice on how to play the

materialised next to the boat, the gaff shot was good and I swung it on board. I had

gotten a bit too excited and didn’t realise that the wee man had stuck his noggin

tail, it hit Tristan square on the forehead and knocked him over! He didn’t take it too badly though; within half a minute he was back to jumping around in joy.

After that, it was time to head home, and Tristan spent the next few days telling

‘he had caught with his head!’

Backyard baptism delights

Alan Heward

in mid December to sail to

for a beam reach and we made 6.5 knts under sail till we got to about a mile metres of water.

We anchored, dropped the berley bomb in at the bow stern, me on the port side

One fish two fish three fish red fish blue fish

straight away and had caught with three being keepers

I got sick of this and shifted to midships starboard side,

away I was getting bites and snapper up to 37cm. We when we had our bag, then let out a bit more chain and bunked down for the night. At sunrise the next morning it was a bit lumpy and we had motor sailed back to Nelson. It was a great our own backyard.

Randall Bess

imbalances by adopting new ways for recreational fishers to engage with government and others in decisionmaking processes.

This new way of engaging is founded on inclusiveness and collaboration that are the cornerstones for success of the Fiordland and Kaikoura Marine Guardians in addressing a range of regional issues. Those issues include inevitable problems in shared fisheries and protection of the marine environment and particular species. The Guardians recognise the value of finescale data for management purposes.

Currently, data on recreational catch and e ort is collected via the expensive and infrequent National Panel Survey

(NPS) and a few other research methodologies. While the NPS and other methodologies provide valuable data, there are challenges in their use in several South Island fisheries.

Fish Mainland recently applied to the Ministry for Primary Industries (MPI) to provide financial support for a one-year project to develop and implement what we have agreed is the next best step in collecting data on recreational fishing, starting with the blue cod fishery in South Island waters.

MPI has agreed to partly fund this project that will help evolve the National Blue Cod Strategy. The Strategy introduced a tra c light system for the

management of the blue cod fishery (e.g., colours change as available data suggest the state of the fishery is improving or declining), which reflect di erent daily bag limits. However, the Strategy has not specified the data needed to legitimise colour changes across management areas.

The integrity of any colour changes will be critical to gaining recreational fisher buy-in for the tra c light system. An e ective way to gain buy-in is through citizen science (e.g., self-reporting).

The MPI-funded project led by Fish Mainland will provide much-needed data on recreational catch and e ort to legitimise any colour changes. The project will provide samples of recreational fisher

bought his rod and reel before we left so he was very happy with its baptism.

reported data that will provide broad signals, or indicator statistics, regarding trends in catch and e ort for both targeted blue cod and bycatch within the management areas.

The system for fishers to self-report their catch and e ort comprises a mobile application (app) available in both English and Te Reo Māori. The system design also comprises developing a database to hold all the associated confidential data, with a security layer that controls who can access what data.

The intention is to have specific reporting codes so that participating fishing clubs and other organisations can regularly receive reports on their members’ collated catch and

e ort data, and aggregated anonymised information can be made available to the public.

The aim of this project is to make a di erence that aids the Hon David Parker’s decisions in managing this important South Island fishery for the benefit of all fishing sectors. This will require reliable data and robust analysis and less opinions and guesswork. As Dr Deming said, ‘you can’t manage what you can’t measure.’

Fish Mainland is grateful the Myers Foundation Trust will also provide financial support for this project by matching MPI’s funding. Please consider what donations you can make to Fish Mainland, as they too can be matched.

for the count after four year old Tristan's head butt

Rob Moselle and I set off

Kina Cliffs for a sunset

Sunset o Kina

Become a member

The aim of Fish Mainland is to provide a uni ed voice for the South Island marine recreational shing community. Its aim is also to demonstrate the ability to work respectfully and collaboratively with others to nd workable solutions that provide the best public outcomes.

Its vision is a healthy and abundant marine environment in which recreational shers have an equitable share of available sheries resources and are respected partners in management decisions.

The recreational shing sector is far more numerous, diverse and unde ned than the commercial shing sector and Iwi shing interests. As a sector, recreational shers remain largely unknown, except for a small proportion with membership to shing and boating clubs

If you are interested in and supportive of recreational shing and/or sustainable sheries management practices then become a member of Fish Mainland today

MEMBERSHIP IS FREE - JOIN TODAY

• AkeydevelopmentforFishMainlandisitsSouthIsland RecreationalFisheriesPolicy.

• ItspurposeistoguideandcoordinatetheactionsoftheSouth Islandrecreational shingsector,theCrown,Iwi,other shing sectorsandinterestsinrealisingopportunitiesandmeetingthe challengesfacingtherecreationalsectorinshared sheries.

• Shared sheriesarethosewherecommercial,recreationaland Māoricustomary shershaveasharedinterest,andtheyvalue theirsharequitedi erently.

Photo Credit

Alisa Mcgilvary-Howard

Black Hands

Martin van Beynen

Penguin

Reviewed

by

Stuart Graham

It began in a rickety old Dunedin house on a cold June morning in 1994 when

family were murdered.

determined there were only ever two suspects—the father, who was dead, and David, who was seemingly spared for reasons yet not clear. It was a crime that polarised the nation to this day.

David was arrested, charged with murder, convicted and jailed.

Through the efforts of former All Black Joe Karam, David later had his conviction overturned and now lives free under an assumed identity, with his young family. End of story. No.

The saga has spawned several books, much speculation, many theories, a podcast and a TV series—and now another investigative book from award winning journalist Martin van Beynen, who has

While the book chronicles the familiar events of Every Street and the aftermath, it remains a compelling read.

The intent of the book is to ‘solve’ the case ghosts to rest once and for all. Martyn meticulously dissects the investigation, evidence, subsequent court cases and outcomes, writing in a very clean, professional journalistic style. Without the previous emotional clutter, legal hyperbole, rhetoric, tenuous assumptions and omissions, the narrative paints a clear path to a rather obvious conclusion.

It will either rattle your thoughts all along. Well worth the read.

Making a meal of a goat hunt

It was a warm summers day and I was chilling out by the river after a swim when my phone dinged and a message from Dan Crimp popped up, “Goat hunt 5pm!” I couldn’t wait.

We headed to a block of private land owned by a friendly farmer who had given Dan permission to hunt. The area was swarming with goats and we saw mobs spread out across the hills as we tramped into the hunting spot. We climbed into the hills with high hopes and instantly spotted a perfect sized black nanny above us. After a quick stalk, Dan managed a perfect shot from 10m, bringing her down quickly.

My previous hunting experience had been with a compound bow, with which I had taken several goats. However, poor shot placements had resulted in slow death and a long chase, which put me off hunting for quite a while. I decided if I was going to take an animal, I was going to make it a clean ethical kill on the right

Sam Boothroyd

animal.

With this in mind, we scoped out the surrounding hills and soon made a stalk on a smaller younger nanny. I eyed her through the scope and I lined up the base of the head but, every time I appeared out of the bushes and blocked my shot. After 20 minutes, I decided she

wasn’t what I was after so we moved on.

Several hours later—after a few stalks and calls not to take the shot—we found ourselves at the top of the hunting block. Just over the crest of the hill, we spotted a pair of horns, which were connected to the most perfect sized and aged goat.

spotted a gnarly looking red stag antler, which was a bloody awesome way to end the hunt. I couldn’t have been happier with the outcome and a massive shoutout to Dan for guiding me so well.

As we approached, a pair of kids to our right spooked, sending her and several others running.

CHEVIOT HARDWARE & LOTTO

As they headed towards the bush to our left, Dan let out a whistle, stopping them in their tracks and allowing me to let rip a perfect shot—straight into the lungs and heart. After a bit of celebratory hooting and high

It was only at this point we realized how far up we had come and how far down we still had to go. As we made our way back to the car, Dan

After hanging the goats for several days to let the to get my hands on the meat, and I was desperate to cook it up. I decided to marinade and fry up the back straps like a steak, to the backstraps in a bowl with olive oil, coriander, salt and pepper, thyme, and a variety of different spices before leaving it to soak for around on a griddle pan till it was medium rare and tucked in and it was amazing! The legs I turned into goat curry and tasty roasts. An awesome and tasty way to respect the animal.

The indexed rotating clamping system 3 angle adjustments 12˚, 20˚, 25˚ Your knife is always in the same place.

Sam Boothroyd

Tim The Tool Man Taylor from the 90s sitcom Home Improvement had it right with his classic tag line, “More power—uuurggh!” In that context it was a bloke thing but, in the arena of home processing, we are gender neutral and more power equates to a happy kitchen.

Processing the catch or kill in our family has always been a shared activity, albeit

More grunt— uuuurggh

T.P. McPhee

clumsy and messy in the past. Kitchen appliances have a place but prove woefully inadequate when handling bulk. We tortured ourselves for 20 years with a George Foreman meat grinder, which lapped up the occasional pāua but choked when confronted with a whole deer—it simply lacked capacity. The game changer came when we went ‘grunty’.

Researching a suitable

high-capacity grinder proved

searches predominantly turned up American products (the Yanks do BIG well) but these are incompatible with New Zealand power sources. The Rural Butcher Range, alleviates this problem by sourcing and supplying products suitable to the Kiwi market.

We went for a #22 grinder with more wattage and more grunt—a huge step

You have probably noticed the # and wondered what that number means

When you see the number, it refers to the size of the grinder. The size is determined by measuring the diameter of the grinder plates. The most common sizes for home uses are #5 - 50mm, #8 - 63.5mm , #12 -70mm #22 - 82mm and # 32.- 98mm

On the left is our #22 plate and on the right is our old #5 plate. You can see why upgrading has been a game changer for how we process our meat.

-82mm up from George and his piddly 50mm grinding plate and feed. With an 82mm blade and plate and a larger feeding chute, the transformation was quantum. What literally took hours is now accomplished in minutes—no exaggeration. For example, George would take an hour to grind 10kg of meat—the new #22 model has the capacity to grind 250kg in an hour and a smaller but still grunty #12 model can do approx. 150kg / hour! Recently, we minced 20kg from a couple of deer I’d shot and it took less than 8 minutes.

The bottom line—George lacked the punch

Advantages of the bigger grinder are:

• easy to clean—large accessible surfaces

• more sanitary—no tight narrow nooks and crannies to trap food

• better quality of mince— cut rather than bruised

• wide feed means you can cut larger chunks of meat, saving time

• no more cubing meat for mincing

• 4mm, 5mm and 8mm grinding plates creates

Speed and e ciency

Another big advantage to stepping up to a more commercial model is that it paves the way to producing your own small goods, such as sausages and meat patties.

I will cover this in detail

in future columns but the essence of successful small goods is multiple grinds, so capacity and speed are an absolute must. Sausage making can become a fun family ritual rather than a tedious chore, with the right equipment. But more of that later.

Home processing is fun, rewarding and satisfying. It also saves you money in the long term but the secret is in the set up. Buy quality and purchase GRUNT!

The centrepiece of your appliances is a decent meat grinder and worth the investment.

Check out The Rural Butcher Range to help you get started processing at home.

TIDES

When William Gibbs arrived in Nelson in 1851

at what is now known as Collingwood, then soon after bought a large block of forested land at Totaranui, a huge 1000 acre expanse stretching from Wainui Bay, along with a pastoral lease of 6000 acres southwards to Aorere River.

With the discovery of valley, he was able to make sections for store keepers, hotels and houses to service Gibbstown.

He then set about developing Totaranui. Clearing the native bush, building a large, two-storey homestead, established extensive gardens complete fountain and a glasshouse, grassed and stocked his farm and built two summer houses. One at each corner of the beach for guests, a boasted with winches for his two boats and an

The lady in the gloves

The little lady in the gloves animated.

“THAT’S not coming on this boat!”

Like the old dynamos we used have on our bikes in the olden days, she can pack quite a spark when she gets wound up. She wears gloves on the boat because she doesn’t like the feel of she clearly doesn’t like the LOOK of conger eels either.

It was a big bugger too, and it gave me quite the work out, but I reluctantly cut it free. The diminutive one had spoken and I was about to get a jolt by defying her demands. Now she’s bound to get upset if she reads this, so I won’t mention her name here… I’ll mention it over here—Kellie is my wife and

The Maori fella at work was

a bit gutted I cut the conger free—he would’ve eaten it. He reckoned they used to rub them in the sand to get the slime off, but then he eats anything. He even eats McDonalds for Christ’s sake.

Apart from big slimy, we weren’t having much luck on the rods, just small cod off Cape Soucis. Then the dynamo lit up because her rod was twitching in a mighty fashion. Bugger me if she went ahead and caught a nice snapper on the rod.

I like insurance policies, so had put out a set line. With a lot of squat lobsters in Tasman Bay, I tried something different: I ran a above the hooks, which

designed for set lines. When we started to lift it, I felt a telltale tug and the upshot was these three nice snapper. A couple of fat gurnard were

More to explore in Golden Bay

avenue from the beach to the homestead, lined with macrocarpa and plane trees planted by daughter Sarah. Many of these trees remain today.

He even had a small carriage with a cream pony to transport guests from the beach to the homestead.

cherries and walnuts were also planted. A third cottage for a married couple was built near the dairy, commonly known as the milking shed and stable on the avenue.

While all this development was going on he and his wife Betsy produced and raised eight children, four boys and four girls. By 1870 he was a member of the in Wellington, representing the Collingwood electorate, which included all of Golden Bay and Westhaven. He was re-elected for three

when the Collingwood electorate was merged into Motueka. Totaranui even had its own polling booth during those years.

the two-storey homestead at Totaranui was one that oozed luxury. William hand-painted the wallpaper, plush carpets, artworks and buttoned-stain furniture in the drawing room. Each bedroom had a porcelain hand basin with running

water, which gushed out of a silver lion’s head. Marble features and a large library added to the decor. Outside the dairy, vegetable gardens, glasshouse, fowl house, orchard and the sea provided food aplenty.

After retiring from parliament William became resident magistrate and gold warden for Collingwood he left Totaranui and retired to Nelson. William died in

are buried side by side in the Wakapuaka Cemetery, Anglican Block, plots 16 and 17. These grave sites are easily located if you wish to go searching, just as you can explore Totaranui today and locate much to remind you of these amazing endeavours. The homestead on the hill today is not the original Gibbs’ homestead. what happened to it?

also suckered by this set up. Bloody good chewing.

Wanting to prove it wasn’t dumb luck, we went out of Nelson Harbour a week later and set the line in 14m off

was pretty dismal apart from me mate’s missus snagging a good snapper next door on their boat but, when it came to their set line, they were skunked.

I tickled over a hundred metres and began to haul in ours—bit of weight there. Then some earnest tugging— not from me—and the line

was stripped from my hands. I got quite excited but it and a neighbouring snapper on the next hook playing silly buggers. Still, it was impersonators that hooked big rig—nice chewing that bugger.

the gloves and I may have even got my foot over the threshold there. Being a knowledgeable coot does have its rewards.

Fizz with an insurance payout

The Marlborough District Council’s proposal to ban vehicle access (including quad bikes) around Marfells Beach to Cape Campbell and south to Ward beach coastline, has become a contentious issue among fishos and divers in the Top of the South.

While the proposals may allow for boats to launch from designated sites, the rest of the coastline would be boat, cycle, horse or foot access only. The larger area covered by a ban is the 48km from the Awatere River to the Waima/Ure River.

Those in support of a ban are concerned that the large numbers of vehicles driving round that piece of coast (see image 1) are endangering seabird nesting sites, unduly disturbing the local seals and damaging vulnerable wildlife habitat.

They also want to see areas uplifted by the 2016 Kaikoura earthquake protected so they can

Cape Campbell vehicle access ban

A threat to recreational fishing rights, or a necessary means of environmental protection? Storm Stanley

recover fully. Cape Campbell reef, for example, has large areas that are now exposed at low tide. It is still in a state of change as the environment ‘resets’. Photos of quad bikes sitting out on the sub-tidal reef at low tide and images of vehicle tracks across the high tide mark and through dune areas seem to bear these fears out.

However, locals and others who have fished the area for years by four wheel drive access, ATV or quad bike, want to be able to continue doing so. They believe they don’t do significant permanent damage and most are responsible. To them, the idea of an access ban is unfair, being akin to a de facto fishing ban. They suggest access issues should be handled by way of a code of practice or bylaw, keeping vehicles to designated tracks.

Adding urgency to the decisions Marlborough District Councillors face is

the area currently closed to shellfish and seaweed harvesting—which will likely reopen to fishing in October this year.

Commercial pāua divers will also be a ected by the vehicle access ban.

Most used to get to these Marlborough areas by boat, a few also used quad bikes as part of their operations.

The Pāua Industry Council will be strongly advocating that boat launching at Ward and Marfells Beach sites be retained regardless but are carefully considering its position. While we are not fans of access bans to fishing grounds, there are some complicating factors we would like to see the Council consider.

Our concerns centre around the risks to pāua and kina habitats and population post-earthquake uplift. Particularly the critical intertidal areas that juveniles settle and grow in. This is a very vulnerable, narrow and intermittent ribbon of habitat, much of which is

now exposed at low tide

Baby pāua, those immature juvenile pāua about 70mm or less, prefer to live in crevices and beneath secure boulders, grazing algal films and small pieces of drift seaweed. A good, safe place away from predators and protected from volatile sea conditions.

But the new environment created by the Kaikoura uplift is still changing and is yet to settle into its new normal.

In many areas, juvenile populations are exposed at low tide and are living under loose rocks and small boulders. The key settlement surface for pāua lavae is the encrusting corralline algae that appears as a brittle pink crust on shallow reefs. Much of this was also killed o in the uplift, only slowly beginning to re-establish itself now in the new intertidal zone.

Any vehicle movement around this habitat is a risk. Vehicles short cutting over shallow rockpools or small boulder areas are likely to crush juvenile shellfish, displace habitat and generally disturb young pāua at their most vulnerable stage of life. Newly established encrusting corals would also likely be destroyed.

Our observation over the years has been that recreational fishers seem to prefer working the low tides. So, the most vehicle movements are at the times the intertidal zone is most exposed to careless driving.

In time, the environment, pāua settlement and juvenile habitats will reset to a new, stable state. In the interim, we believe some protection

is called for.

The pāua industry propose that:

The Council impose a temporary one or two year-long ban on all vehicle access

• The ban be reviewed after one or two years with the following zactions to be undertaken before reopening to vehicle access

• An acceptable and agreed coastal access route should be identified along a path that minimises damage to the environment and at-risk habitats

• Development and implementation of bylaws that enforce rules developed on responsible use of access to vulnerable coastline by vehicles

The e ects of the Kaikoura earthquake are striking. It is amazing to walk across areas of former seabed to the east of Mussel Point, for example, and be able to sit and have a cuppa on rocks and reef structures that used to be two to three metredeep prime cray diving spots—just 100 metres o shore prior to the quake. People should be allowed to visit these areas and catch a feed of fish. But not at the expense of what is still a fragile and recovering environment.

Public consultation on the proposed ban will take place this February, with a panel analysing submissions and making recommendations to the full Council in the following months.

• The Council work through existing recreational fishing representative groups to develop and disseminate educational material on responsible access to and use of this coastal area

Vehicle tracks on coastal area near Cape Campbell Photo Credit Forest & Bird

Young pāua growing through in a vulnerable shallow rock pool at Cape Campbell

Photo Credit Storm Stanley

View from seaward to Cape Campbell lighthouse across uplifted reef habitat

Photo Credit Storm Stanley

THE DIRECTORY

We encourage you to fish for a feed, not for the freezer.

As a group, we’re responsible for managing and caring for Fiordland’s precious marine environment. Before you set o , make sure you know the “where, what and how” about fishing in Fiordland. Clean your vessel and gear so you don’t take any unwanted visitors with you.

Connect with us at FMG.org.nz

Photo courtesy of Jon Clow, Guardian

January 20 saw the launch of an important survey for recreational fishers in Fiordland, the purpose of which is to help the Fiordland Marine Guardians build a broader picture of the experiences and concerns of those who fish in the Fiordland (Te Moana o Atawhenua) Marine Area (FMA).

Designed expressly for recreational fishers, the

survey includes questions about fisheries sustainability, the current health of recreational fish stocks, and fishers’ overall fishing experience in the FMA. Responses to these questions will be considered alongside input from two focus group hui (independent recreational fishers and Amateur Charter Vessel operators) before the Guardians make

Fiordland has always led the way with communitydriven initiatives. We are committed to working collaboratively with you to give these fish stocks the protection they require over the next 20+ years. In less than 15 minutes you can make your voice heard. Scan the QR code or follow this link.

What you need to know before you go

If you’re catching a feed of crayfish make sure you know the rules before you head out. A few changes came into e ect in July 2020, including daily bag limit reductions and the introduction of telson clipping for some areas.

Before you go, it’s always a good idea to check the fishing rules—especially if you are heading away from your local region where there might be some local di erences with the fishing rules.

There’s an easy way to get up to date with the rules for your area—just download the NZ Fishing Rules app before you head out. It’ll give you all the latest rules about catch limits, fishing methods, and restrictions in your area so you never get caught out. Further information about fishing rules and how to download the app is available

online at https://www.fisheries. govt.nz/rules

What has changed?

In the Hauraki Gulf and Bay of Plenty regions, known as the CRA 2 fishery, the recreational daily bag limit reduced to 3 spiny lobsters per person per day. A new requirement to telson clip your recreationally caught crays has also been introduced. This identifies that the crays were caught recreationally and helps deter poaching activity. If you don’t know what telson clipping is, please keep reading to the end of this article for further details and some useful links.

In the CRA 5 fishery in Canterbury and Marlborough, three measures that already apply to the Kaikōura Marine Area have been extended to the whole CRA 5 area from Farewell Spit to the Waitaki River south of Timaru. These are telson clipping, an accumulation limit of 18

recommendations to the Minister of Oceans and Fisheries, Hon. David Parker, in mid-2021.

Manaaki Whenua-Landcare Research is conducting the survey on behalf of the Guardians and the results are anonymous. The survey will only be open for a few weeks, so make yourself a cuppa and share your thoughts with us now.

lobsters (or 3 daily bag limits), and bag and tag conditions for recreational catch. These changes are to assist with addressing illegal take in this fishery.

What is telson clipping and how is it done?

The telson is the central part of a lobster’s tail fan. Telson clipping refers to removing the last third of the telson, so that it is noticeably shorter than the other segments of the tail fan. Recreational fishers are required to cut o the last third of the telson of every legal lobster they have caught and will keep. Telson clipping can be done with a knife or scissors, and is like clipping your fingernails. Clipping the telson of a lobster marks it as recreationally caught which means it is unable to be bought, sold or bartered. Telson clipping only applies to spiny rock lobster – do not clip the tail of a packhorse lobster, as this will make them immeasurable.

MPI Fishery O cer, Gary McAneny demonstrates how to perform a telson clipping in MPI’s instructional video on YouTube, available at https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=4DiMcyGRT8Q&t=3s

Close up of a telson

Sinker to Smoker

Ron Prestage

Mokihinui be er than ever

Despite the doubts brought on by Covid-19 the Competition turned out to be a cracker. Lines were in the water on all of the ten days, with 28 snapper being weighed in overall.

The heaviest snapper in the specimen caught by Jake

Elvin with a 6.36kg conger eel.

In the open trout section brown to win.

Arlo Poore was the top Hans Busch won the junior 2.30kg kahawai. Longest conger eel.

Jake Young with his prize winning snapper of 5.12kg

In the Kontiki section the winning snapper was landed

Team McNabb. Daily heaviest snapper prizes went to Lui Tuitaute, Himi Cook, Jake Young, George Coleman, Stuart Poore and Aroha. Heaviest claimed by Kahn Zelinski,

Mel Elvin, Tony Murphy, George Coleman, Tony

and Arlo Poore.

Key committee members, Paul Clarkson, Brian and Tony Murphy ensured the event ran super smoothly. performed their usual sterling service as weighmasters.

Brian Morgan and his team delivered a tasty barbecue lunch after the prizegiving to complete a memorable ten

Smith

Eileen Lee, winner of the open trout section

Fishing Fiordland

Photo Credit Fiordland Charters

clipped rock lobster.