Like many anglers, Darren Tierney has a fishing bucket list and right at the top is the pinnacle – marlin. To catch one from a boat is one thing but from a kayak, well that’s just something else. He shares the story of his first yak captured beakie and shares some important tips to help you achieve the same milestone.
It’s hard to believe it’s been over 6 months since that day back in January when it all came together. I remember it like it was yesterday. Line screamed off the reel, the drag was engaged, everything came tight, the rod bent double and then right in front of the kayak my dream fish erupted from the ocean’s calm surface in an early morning shower of gold. Like so many other great captures it all came about as the end result of a mix of careful preparation and being in the right place at the right time.
I’d caught marlin before but only from my boat. Even so, they’ve never come easy. They are a fast and powerful fish, regardless of the size bracket they come in and they’re always full of surprises. In a powered boat one has the luxury of being able to motor down on one’s quarry and make quick positional changes while fighting the fish. There is little to no risk of capsizing and generally the angler has one or more anglers on board to assist with tracing, tagging, releasing or gaffing of the fish. Such is not the case for anyone game enough to target billfish from a kayak. I often asked myself, ‘can it really be done?’
The Yak-fishing roadie rig.
THE BUCKET LIST ITEM
I’ve fished from kayaks of one variety or another for quite some years. Initially these outings were just paddling forays with a spot of fishing thrown in, usually to add spice to what was essentially some enjoyable exercise. Recently however I had been struggling to find crew for my boat and thus become more active in the kayak angling game. I’d been having an absolute ball, from chasing natives in the rivers, jewfish and flatties in the estuaries, to snapper and kings offshore. Each and every fish I landed from the yak seemed worth 10 from my boat. There’s something just a little more primitive, hands-on and intimate about getting to your destination through paddle power to target and triumph over your specific quarry. Success seems so much the sweeter when you return to shore victorious with the day’s catch in the cooler or some quality photos and memories stored away for the future.
Over the years I’d managed to tick off quite a few milestones on what was I guess an unwritten ‘yak fishing bucket list’ and as time went by I was slowly upping the ante. I don’t think it was ever originally a goal to chase the grandest fish of the seas in my kayak, but I soon acknowledged that one particular species jumped, pun intended, right to the top of my bucket list.
As yak fishos, a large part of the enjoyment we gain from partaking in our pastime is achieved from the planning, preparation and anticipation of our adventures. I’d been planning and anticipating my next adventure for a number of months. After some careful deliberation and a great deal of scrutinising of weather and tide charts, I arranged some time off work. Miraculously this period somehow lined up with a window of favourable weather. The time of year was right and reports on the yak and game fishing grapevine had started to filter through that juvenile black marlin had begun making their annual run down the coast. With all of this in mind I readied my gear, loaded the yak and hitched up the trailer. I was soon putting the pedal to the metal and was northward bound to chase a marlin from my yak.
I love fishing road trips and yak fishing ‘roadies’ are the best of them all. With my purpose-built trailer it takes no time at all to load up all the gear, hitch it up to the fourbie and hit the road.
It’s no secret in boat fishing circles that BOAT is an acronym for Bring Out Another Thousand (dollars) and this is just one of the many factors adding to the joy and simplicity of yak fishing. It’s just all too easy with no fuel expenses, registration fees or boat licenses and no outboard breakdowns. It’s all too sweet. I continued motoring north knowing the forecast for the following day was brilliant. With high hopes of what was to come I continuously glanced in the rear view mirror to see my trailer and yak speeding along in hot pursuit.
“The majestic little battler died right there in my grip”
Little black acrobat.
WEAPON OF CHOICE
I had total faith in my yak for this trip. She’s a Stealth Evolution (Evo) 495 and an absolute legend when it comes to offshore yak fishing. Designed and built in South Africa, these yaks need no introduction to seasoned yak fishermen. Stealth are the leading manufacturer of fibreglass fishing kayaks and they produce a range of yaks aimed predominantly at offshore fishing. The Evo is a sit on top (SOT) yak and a dream to paddle and fish from. It glides effortlessly through the waves and can be paddled for hours on end without the paddler tiring. It also serves as a very stable fish fighting platform. These yaks come standard with a rudder and day hatch that can double as a live bait tank, and of course rod holders. Most importantly though, is the massive fish and gear storage hatch that extends right up into the yak’s bow. What this means is that prior to launch or landing the angler/paddler can have all his gear, including rods, gaff and GPS etc. stored safely away inside the yak. Let me tell you right now that when there is risk of capsize (yes, it will happen) then this feature is priceless.
LOCATION, LOCATION
This mission to land my bucket list black from my yak had me destined for the mid-north coast of NSW. Following an uneventful drive I pulled into the campsite and quickly went about setting up the tent. As I did so I reminisced about past adventures to this part of the country. I’d fished and dived this area from my boat and from experience knew that I wouldn’t have to paddle far offshore to put me in the ballpark for a real chance at a hook up.
Photo session of a worthy opponent.
The East Australian Current (EAC) pushes down and in towards this part of the coast during summer each year. With this current comes warm water and shoals of baitfish. Like the proverbial bees to honey; predators soon follow. The first of the major predators to show are billfish, usually in the form of juvenile black marlin and then within a month or two the ‘razor gang’ arrive in the way of mackerel and wahoo. With their razor sharp teeth they make fishing for marlin using monofilament leaders a game of chance. As such it is perhaps best to target marlin earlier in the season.
Grant Ashwell is well-known in yak game fishing circles and he fishes these waters from his yak regularly. He has arguably landed more beakies from his yak than anyone else in the country. Grant unselfishly offered me plenty of advice in my quest to land a marlin from my yak, not least of which was to fish light and keep the rig simple. Grant often uses as little as 40 lb fluorocarbon leaders when targeting these small blacks. I couldn’t quite bring myself to go that low and opted for 60lb fluorocarbon wind-on leaders instead. I was using two outfits both spooled with 30 lb line. The first was a Daiwa Saltist on a Shimano T-Curve jig rod and the second was a Shimano TLD 25 matched to a Wilson Shortstroker. With no swivel or any other terminal tackle attached I’d crimped a 6/0 Gamakatsu live bait hook to the end of each wind-on. Normally when live-baiting for billfish I use circle hooks but as luck would have it I had no circles in this smaller size and on arrival at my destination the tackle store had already closed. I planned to purchase some the next afternoon following my first day of fishing. Little did I know I would never have to visit that tackle store.
I slept fitfully that night and dreamt of billfish tail-walking ahead of my kayak and towing me over the eastern horizon. I woke with a start to the sound of a kookaburra’s high-pitched laugh. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I had to shake my head in order to get my bearings and dazedly found myself wondering, was it just a dream or a premonition? As I crawled from the cramped confines of my one man tent that morning I was happy to see the forecast was looking spot on as the day had dawned clear and still. The previous day, as predicted, the wind had blown steadily from south and east. I knew that this usually pushed the clean warm EAC hard in towards the coast.
THE BIG DAY
The yak had been pre-packed the night before. A quick bite to eat then with speed in my step I wheeled the Evo down to the water’s edge and felt confident as I launched. Looking out in the pre-dawn twilight, I could see the ocean was flat as yesterday’s beer. Soon enough the carbon fibre paddle blades were dipping rhythmically into aqua blue waters; effortlessly drawing the Stealth forward. The bow of the Evo cuts through the water like a warm blade through butter. Before I knew it the yak was around the point into open ocean and I could actually feel heat rising up from the sea’s surface. The sun had barely breached the horizon and the air temperature was just 20°C but my sounder told me the water was a tepid 24.5°C. A knowing smile grew steadily across my face and confidence levels rose another notch as I looked up and ahead to see a large area of the sea surface rippling with schooling baitfish.
As I approached the school they suddenly showered as one, sounding, a sure sign they were nervous and perhaps there were predators lurking below. Needless to say it was with somewhat shakey hands that I nervously tied a Sabiki bait jig to a mini threadline outfit and dropped it down into the school still clearly visible on my depth sounder at 5 to 10 m below. The flimsy little rod instantly loaded up and 4 plump slimy mackerel were unceremoniously wound to the surface. Within minutes two of the live baits were redeployed to the depths quivering and vibrating away on the heavier gear, each sporting 6/0 hooks hanging from their noses via rubber-band bridles. One went out directly behind the yak on the surface. The other livie was set with a weight deeper below the Stealth at around the same depth the bait school was holding at. The plan from this point on was to try and stay in touch with the school of baitfish and slowly troll the livies through and around the outskirts of the shoal. With the trap set it was now time to take in the gorgeous north coast scenery and get in a bit of paddling exercise. The waiting game had begun. As it turned out I was not going to get much exercise or have to wait too long.
ONE EPIC BATTLE
Fifteen minutes had passed before I decided to ‘freshen up’ the livies by catching a couple of replacements. I retrieved the pre-rigged little baitfishing outfit from the fish hatch and soon dropped the bait jig down once more. Now, if you’ve never seen a school of baitfish on a depth sounder it is basically represented by a big, red circular blob. This was clearly visible on my screen and I knew that I should be able to obtain fresh live baits with ease. As I watched the screen however, I noticed something interesting happen, something I’d only seen a couple of times before. One side of the blob became a vertical wall. This represents a school of baitfish attempting to hide from a perceived threat like a predator that has approached from that particular side. They are obviously attempting to get away from what they perceive to be a danger – let’s say a hungry marlin. Understandably, perhaps, my bait jig was left untouched by the baitfish and as I watched the sounder more closely, I noticed something else. A short, slightly arched red line appeared to the side of the vertical wall of baitfish. Enter stage left, the predator.
Prudence probably dictated that now might have been a good time to retrieve the bait jig but I was too late. As I began to wind in the jig the TLD game reel in the holder behind my seat emitted a long, slow growl. The ratchet was sounding and line was being taken from the spool. Something had just eaten one of my live baits.
After dropping the bait jig rod in a panic, creating a tangled mess and retrieving the game rod form the holder; I had allowed the fish to run with the bait, forgetting that I wasn’t actually fishing with a circle hook. What this meant was the fish had plenty of time to not only swallow the bait but the accompanying hook too. As I slowly pushed the drag lever up to strike the result was nothing short of spectacular. The line cut through the water, hissed across the surface and in one absolutely stunning and acrobatic moment, forever etched into my mind, one very lit-up billfish leapt into the sky just metres away from the yak. After completing a full one and a half backward somersault the fish tail-walked across the ocean’s surface, thrashing the sea to foam in its wake before crash-diving and screaming off into the depths. The previous night’s dream had just become a reality.
I had a couple of action cameras set up on the yak, but of course in the heat of the battle the camera located to my rear was not on and I missed those first few moments following the initial take. This fish did everything that could be expected of it, ranging from big aerial jumps to tail-walking, grey-hounding and head-thrashing. The yak was pulled and towed out to sea, in circles and figure eights. The fish dived deep and nearly capsized me on several occasions but the Evo was up to the task.
The marlin tired quite quickly however and on the last couple of half-hearted jumps the reason why became apparent. The hook had been swallowed and the fish was bleeding profusely from the gills. Crimson froth was thrown into the air with each successively smaller and weaker jump. Seeing this, I pushed the drag lever to sunset in an attempt to get him in quickly and see if he could be saved. I got him close enough to eventually grab the bill but he thrashed wildly and then quite literally, the magnificent little battler died right there in my grip. It was a melancholy moment. Later I discovered the hook had lodged just behind the throat latch of the fish, detaching it completely along with two full gill sets. It was sad and unfortunate, but the fish did not go to waste. I managed to get a couple of quick photos out on the yak before remarkably fitting the whole fish in the hatch of the Evolution before paddling to shore.
On arrival at the beach a holiday maker was incredulous to see what I had stored in the hatch of the Stealth. He was kind enough to take some pictures more worthy of such a great opponent and I thanked him for his efforts with several kilos of fresh marlin steaks. I caught up with him the following day and he rated the flesh highly, as did I, following my return to the south coast.
At the time of writing, winter has well and truly set in and plenty more fish have succumbed to the Stealth since that day but none more fulfilling or exciting. The enthusiasm to get out on the briney is literally dampened and cooled by the inclement weather and frigid temperatures we are having at present.
Looking over the accompanying photos helps to melt the winter chill away as a warm feeling spreads through me, knowing I’ll be back out there again in just six short months to once again chase the most majestic fish of them all. And I’ll be doing it from my yak.
Like many anglers, Darren Tierney has fished since he was a kid. Growing up on the coast he has always had an affinity for the ocean and worked for many years as a SCUBA instructor in North QLD, the Solomon Islands and Fiji. Along with game fishing and yak fishing he also enjoys underwater photography, videography and spearfishing.
