Storm fever

 

At around 6 pm we heard the first ABC 666 Canberra severe storm warning for Weston (our home suburb) so logged onto the Bureau website to check out the details.  Not one storm cell but two – the other headed for Adaminaby (our fishing cottage). We’d watched the build up all day and neighbour Jan reported over the fence that she’d driven through a storm on the way back from Jindabyne.  There wasn’t much I could do about Weston but I wandered around the garden at Adaminaby picking up various bits of post festive season detritus, the odd plastic chair and table – anything that could blow away or into a vehicle. A few tins sheets on the roof started to rattle but there wasn’t much I could do about that given my aversion (if not allergy) to ladders and heights.

The good bit was the temperature dropped 10 degrees in as many minutes so we snatched the chance to let the dog out for a cool off, and the cat too on his lead.  We sat on the front porch steps watching the build up and the first few giant rain drops but then nothing.  It skirted right around Adaminaby to the north and headed east for Canberra.  Might get a fish in after all!

And that I did. I love these humid buggy nights.  Kelpie Briggsy wasn’t at all put off by the weather and was waiting by the back door of the Pajero as soon as I put my boots on. As I drove up Chalker Street I saw a white cloud poking out from the black clouds to the north so drove to the fire station to take a snap – there were all the SES guys and girls waiting for their call to action – good on ya.

I headed for Yens Bay for a fisherman’s hour but there were too many fisher folk there for my liking so I headed for the point looking towards Old Adaminaby and squeezed into a bay next to a couple of lure fisherman.  It was 8 o-clock and nothing worthy rose for an hour, so I took sunset pictures. The reds and greys merging in a narrow strip of blue, the calming waters reflecting far more than the iPhone does justice to.

Then a moth grabbed hold of my fly line at about the same time as some more optimistic sounding gloops were audible and rises and splashes visible. The next forty five minutes was a lot more fun and all browns too. The chubby fella at the bottom of the page swallowed the fly so deep I’m afraid I couldn’t get it out without harm  – so he was pacified and went to neighbour Jan – but despite my thoughts that they were hitting moths (or even mud-eyes) the fish turned out to be full of brown beetles (not brown snails as I said on my regular 2SM HiTide slot the following morning morning – well what do you expect at five to six).

I could have stayed out a lot longer but the phone rang and well, it was nearly 10 and I’d said an hour, and it was Crissy’s last night before heading home and back to being a law partner again;  stowing her Huck Finn check shirts (and custom length pieces of straw) until Easter. As I walked away from the bank the lighting flashed over Namadgee National Park Canberra 50 kilometres to the west and the fish glooped and slurped their appreciation in such a taunting manner even Briggsy looked at me in the torch light and then back to the water as if to say “are you crazy”?

 

Tight tippets!