The Perfect Storm

The boat test we published in the September 2001 issue of Trailer Boat on Stacer's 575 Ocean Fisher was conducted on the somewhat sedate Southport Broadwater and Coomera River, which didn't exactly test the EVO hull to its limits.

An opportunity to really put this hull through its paces recently presented itself, and with the chance of catching a few good fish along the way, we jumped at the offer.

Back in my old stomping grounds of Darwin, Michael Onn from Spot On Marine, Lowrance's anchorman in the field, Dave Silva, and yours truly purloined a 575 Ocean Fisher from Spot On's showroom and loaded it with a few supplies. Well, more than a few in fact.

Two hundred litres of petrol was pumped into the underfloor tank. Another 40lt in two plastic jerry cans went under the hatch forward of the console, along with seven cartons of beer and some plonk, three cartons of soft drink, four large gear bags and lifejackets on top. [Ed: Geez Rick, I'm glad you were only going for a week!]

On the foredeck, a rolled up swag, two large rod tubes, two tackle bags and camera cases sat loose at the bow. The standard icebox, which forms a seat for this model, was loaded with food and ice and another 150lt box of ice and drinks sat directly behind it. The sidepockets were filled with lure boxes, spare oil bottles, gaffs and landing nets.

Leaving the ramp at Nightcliff three hours later than originally planned, I knew we would be in for a bumpy ride. The onset of the wet season promised a breeze around 10am from the Timor Sea to the west, which is usually not good for trailerboats. By the time we were 10km into our 100km trek across this shallow expanse of water, bumpy was definitely an understatement!

With seas rising to 1.5m, we ran head-on into it at 21kt until about 25km from Darwin, where the seas increased to 2m. Turning west-northwest, we had the waves and the wind running onto the port forequarter. We got wet - saturated, in fact - as you would in any centre console in these conditions. Still maintaining 21kt, the 130hp Honda showed amazing torque, going down into the holes and powering up the next wall of water without losing much of its rpm - even when climbing the steepest of waves. Midway, we stopped to take a breather and give hands, cramped from hanging onto rails, a rest. After another hour of white knuckles from hanging onto anything strong enough to handle the pounding, we crossed the shallows into the bottom end of Apsley Strait, which divides Melville and Bathurst Island.

Another breather to celebrate the two-hour mark was had before steaming through the winding channel edged by exposed bommies. It was a smooth run to Garden Point (called Munupi by most now), the home of Mark and Pam from Mark's Territory Barra Safaris. Mark was guiding back on the mainland when I was still in the game. Their base camp is called Munupi Sport Fishing Lodge, and it consists of a large roofed breezeway separating air-conditioned living quarters for clients. Overlooking the waters of Apsley Straight and the eastern shoreline of Bathurst Island from the open dining room, this was the most idyllic spot one could imagine, especially after our three-hour journey.

A tub, hot meal, refreshments and a few yarns rounded the day off before we turned in to rest weary bones.

Next morning the boat was refuelled and stocked with more ice. As added ballast, Mark's guide, Jason, came along. Jason was a long-time guide at Barra Base, which was situated on the opposite side of Bathurst Island in Port Hurd. He has exceptional knowledge of the creek and river systems in this area, and his 125kg frame would further test the EVO hull. With no hesitation, we were on the plane and heading north in the strait toward the top of the islands.

Running over the tops of the reefs with little more than a metre of water between the transducer and the rocks, we cut across the shallows of the northwest corner of Melville Island and ran east for two hours at 21kt.

This area is studded with large bommies, rockbars running north from the shoreline and sandspits. On the northern horizon the swell could be seen breaking on the sandbars.

The conditions along this stretch were bumpy, with chop of about a metre, which seemed insignificant after the experiences of the previous day.

Offshore from the Jessie River mouth, we trolled a bommie that is usually home to Spanish mackerel and trevally. An hour of this resulted in snagged lures and a couple of bust-offs from unstoppable fish, so we pushed the throttle forward and headed for the rivermouth.

This river meanders south into the island from its north coast. Small creeks off the main stream and a couple of rock bars are its main features close to the mouth. This pristine river was the remote camp for Barra Base in earlier years, and Jason had spent a good deal of time working the system successfully.

Mark met us further along the coast with spare fuel and tents. With bimini canopy collapsed, we were now fishing five adults out of the boat with ease, and lure-casting on most occasions.

We put in a good innings on the Jessie, trolling some of the rockbars. The run-out tide found the rockbars void of life on the sounder, but, come the bottom and the turn to run-in, activity on the sounder screen increased as the bite came on.

As far as barra go, and I've caught a few over the years, these fish were the toughest I have met. The strike on the Halco Scorpions was so solid one had to be conscious of having the toughest grip on the rod or lose it. It was bone-jarring to say the least!

As the tide heightened, the fish went off the bite on the main rockbar we had been trolling, obviously moving up into the system to fresh grounds. Our best session ended in four fish between eight and 10kg, with a stack of cod and fingermark thrown in to break the monotony.

We moved upriver and into some of the small inlets off the side of the main stream. Mangrove jacks and cod were plentiful, with some of the jacks just too good for the solid drag. I fish with 30lb gelspun line on my baitcasters, and to pull against the drag with a bare hand could result in a nasty cut if not careful. It still was too light for some of the bruisers who went home with a handful of lures.

Each day we steamed back to Mark's contract area, which is leased off the locals, and camped the night. Using that as a base, we ranged back and forth across the north coastline of Melville Island for three days.

On the final day, some of the bommies off the northern shoreline were fished. Michael cleaned up with a 30kg-plus Spaniard on his baitcaster, and a few smaller fish topped off this leg of the trip.

Arriving back at Munupi, the tanks were refuelled for the trip home. With all aboard, we headed south down Apsley Strait with black skies looming in the west.

When at Nguiu, which is the Bathurst township near the mouth of the Strait, torrential rain was hampering vision near the rocky shallows, so we took time for a break. The rain ceased momentarily, so we moved out into the Timor Sea with a bleak sky now behind us. We hoped to outrun this looming storm, as there was a lot of electrical activity shorting out behind us on the island and sea.

Once in deeper water and out of the lee of the land, the breeze picked up and with it the seas. We managed to stay in front of the storm until 50km from the Nightcliff ramp. When it was almost upon us, and in torrential rain, the wind turned from a westerly to the southwest before picking up speed. A break in the rain showed a dangerous sea ahead and two separate storm cells heading north, up the Territory coastline, toward us. The two ahead outblew the one behind, culminating in solid 40kt winds with horizontal rain coming onto the starboard quarter. The swell lifted to 3m, with 2m seas on top.

This was starting to look really ugly!

Boat speed was maintained at 16kt throughout these conditions and the water, both rain and sea, coming over the quarters had the bilge pump running every five minutes. With another 40km of this ahead of us not much was said, obviously everyone aboard thinking of possible options. There was only one - turn and run with it. We would then eventually reach the rock-strewn beach on the southern side of Melville Island, but, with surf running onto the beach, we might have problems landing there. So we continued to plough through it, heading for Nightcliff, maintaining speed and the torque of the big Honda doing its stuff.

Coming off the lip of a big greeny as a gust hit, the pressure got under the hull and started to tip us backwards. The Honda landed first, and when I glanced astern, it was momentarily submerged. Luckily the drag of the Honda pulled the bow down while we still had some forward momentum, preventing us going to the bottom stern-first. The big four-stroke did not miss a beat! We had a few more little heart-flutters crossing through one particular section, which was like a giant washing machine, with waves and suds coming from all directions.

We punched our way through this front and out the other side to see the welcome sight of the Darwin Hospital on the skyline. With wind and seas abating, we had a relatively good run for the last few kilometres into the ramp.

We had been in some pretty shocking seas. The sort that you would never go out in but, unfortunately, might get caught in some day. Other than when we looked like getting a reverse dunking, the boat was very stable and responsive at all times. Bearing in mind that in this horrendous weather, we were still cracking along at a respectable 16kt, this boat behaved extraordinarily well. The performance of the 130hp Honda was impeccable, and the combination of both, make this boat one for serious long-range fishing and camping. It trolled beautifully for barra and was quieter than my 90hp carburetted Honda. When we left Nightcliff, it had 20 minutes on the clock, and the engine freed up noticeably during the trip, running smoother as we went.

Tracking our course on the Navionics chart in the Lowrance LCX-16ci, we had covered an overall distance of 823km, for a total fuel consumption of 425lt, with a minimum of three and maximum of five people aboard.

Considering the pounding we had given the boat, and the payload it was carrying, I fully expected something to have come apart at the seams. Filling the hull with water showed no structural leaks. The only damage found was the collapse of the rota-form anchorwell insert that had come loose from its fixings and dropped to the bottom of its hole.

The good news in recent years has been the securing of camping rights on Melville and Bathurst Islands after extensive negotiations between the Amateur Fishermen's Association of the Northern Territory (AFANT) and the traditional aboriginal owners of those islands.

The cost of permits is $27.50 per person per seven days. A refundable flag deposit of $70 per vessel applies. With a flag flying on your boat when in the permitted areas, locals can see that all is in order and they are not dealing with trespassers.

Don't expect to see too many in-depth boat tests such as this one. The boat on this occasion could handle it, but our bodies, well, that's another question. Trailer Boat might have to enlist the services of a chiropractor!

AFANT may be contacted on (08) 8945 6455; email afant@afant.com.au; or visit www.afant.com.au.