In the first part of this blog series on spooling up your reel, I looked at attaching the end of your line to the spool of your reel before beginning to crank all that line on… Now it’s time to work up a sweat as we finish the job! Hopefully, you’ll remember that in that first part I instructed you to fit the reel to a rod, run the end of the new line down through at least one runner, wrap it several times around the spool core, then secure it firmly in place with a five or six turn Uni Knot. I also stressed that if you’re filling a spinning (threadline) reel, you’ll need to open the bail arm first, before attaching the line, while if it was a baitcaster, the line would need to pass through the level wind carrier first. After tying that important Uni Knot, tightening it firmly and trimming the knot to leave a one or two centimetre tag, you can actually begin spooling up… This is the physically active part of the process! (Note that if you’re spooling with braided or fused gel-spun polyethylene line, lots of people suggest laying down a base of 15 or 20 metres of mono first and tying your braid to this. To be honest, I don’t usually do this, but it’s not a bad idea.) TO READ THIS REST OF THIS BLOG SERIES, GO TO “STARLO’S INNER CIRCLE”, BY CLICKING...

Check out this great clip produced by the guys at “The Offroad Adventure Show”! [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBrTANhJZMQ&w=420&h=315]  

Most modern fishing reels, regardless of their style or type, are equipped with a drag or “slipping clutch” mechanism of some sort that allows line to be pulled from the reel’s spool under a pre-set tension. On a threadline or spinning reel, drag pressure is usually adjusted via a knob located on the front of the spool or (more rarely) under the rear of the reel’s body. Overheads and baitcasters either have a star wheel under the handle or a lever on the side of the reel for adjusting the drag, while sidecasts and centrepins typically feature a nut or star in the centre of the spool. This drag is intended to prevent the line from breaking should excessive force be placed upon it. Instead of snapping, line slips from the spool against the pre-set drag tension. When a large or powerful fish is hooked, it usually needs to be “played” using a combination of drag resistance and rod work. The term “playing a fish” means taking your time and bringing the fish in more slowly and smoothly while using the flex of the rod as a shock absorber. If necessary, you will also need to allow the hooked fish to “run”: in other words, to pull line from the spool against the reel’s pre-set drag or slipping clutch. This may happen many times during a fight with a strong adversary, especially on lighter line. A big, strong fish can easily pull the rod tip down and rip line off the spool against the resistance of the reel’s drag. However, if the drag has been set too tightly, the line can possibly snap, or the hook might bend or straighten and rip out of the fish’s mouth. On the other hand, if the drag...

For those who missed it first time around in print, here’s a piece on open water bream luring that first ran in FishLife magazine earlier this year: The art of luring bream has been one of the major engines of change in Australian sport fishing over the past few decades. In less than a single generation, catching bream on lures has gone from being an accident or a novelty for most anglers to a regular pursuit for many. Even those who don’t “get it” and wonder what all the fuss is about must grudgingly admit that the pursuit of bream on artificial baits has completely transformed our sport. Before many of you reading these words were born, that doyen of Australian fishing writing, Vic McCristal, offered the opinion that anglers skilled enough to regularly take bream on lures would tend to find most other species easy. It was McSea’s quietly understated way of doffing his cap to the bream clan as perhaps our most challenging piscatorial targets. What Vic could hardly have guessed in those days was the passion with which this country’s sport fishing community would eventually embrace that particular challenge, and how doing so would completely revolutionise our tackle, our techniques and even our angling mindset. Make no mistake: bream luring has radically altered the shape of Australian fishing, and this significant evolutionary upheaval is far from having run its course. Discoveries remain to be made. For many, open water breaming is just one of them. Middle Of Nowhere For most of us, thoughts of catching bream on lures immediately conjure mental images of structure fishing: accurately casting our soft plastics and little hard bodies at shorelines, rocks, snags, pylons, oyster lease racks or moored boats. But what if I told you...

Welcome to the first instalment of my “Back To Basics” series of blogs. These blogs are derived from my ongoing series of columns in the Australian Fishing Monthly group of magazines (QLD Fishing Monthly, NSW Fishing Monthly and VIC Fishing Monthly). Publication of these blogs will lag several months behind their first appearance in those great magazines so, if you want to jump ahead at any stage, just grab the latest copy! However, the appearance of these columns as blogs also recognises the fact that many people live outside the areas covered by those publications, or may wish to catch up with previous columns that they missed in print. As the category name of this blog series implies, it’s all about the fundamental building blocks of our sport, but that certainly doesn’t mean it’s intended purely for beginners… far from it! Lots of experienced anglers could definitely benefit from re-visiting some of these basics, and I’d like to think that even the guns of the sport may pick up a gem or two from reading these columns. In coming blogs within the “Back To Basics” category, we’ll tackle subjects like filling and top-shotting your reels with line, selecting and adding leaders, setting your drag, hooking, fighting and landing fish, handling the catch, improving your casting, putting baits on the hook properly, “working” and tuning lures, organising and maintaining your gear and a whole bunch more. However, if there’s something you’d specifically like to see covered, please leave a comment here under the blog and tell me. You can also reach me through my StarloFishing page on Facebook. This time, I want to kick off with an aspect of  tackle preparation that’s glossed over in many how-to books and DVDs, but which is critical to...

Over the course of a year, I get to talk to a lot of soft plastics fishers from around the country. Some I meet at seminars and shows. Others I chat with via the various pages on Facebook that I run or help to administer (especially the StarloFishing, Fishingscool and Squidgy Soft Plastics pages), or through my blogs here at www.starlofishing.me Still others send their letters or emails to me via the magazines I write for. However, no matter what the source of the enquiry, one question (or variations of it) dominates the calls for advice that I receive. Typically, that query begins with the words: “What’s the best soft plastic for…?” The rest of that sentence almost always contains a species of fish and a precise location: What’s the best soft plastic for bream in the Patterson Lakes? What’s the best soft plastic for trout in the Murrumbidgee River? What’s the best soft plastic for flathead on the Gold Coast? What’s the best soft plastic for yellowbelly in the Murray? What’s the best soft plastic for redfin in Lake Eildon? What’s the best for barra in the Daly? And so on… I can’t help but smile at the geographic specificity of these well-meaning questions. Anglers clearly have their favourite fishing spots and they seem to expect that the fish they chase in these beloved haunts will behave just a little differently to those living down the road, around the bend or across the border. Generally speaking, this is not the case. I’ve caught redfin perch in the New England rivers of north western NSW, and also in the very “old England” rivers around the historical university city of Cambridge, in Great Britain (where they’re simply known as perch). Rather unsurprisingly, these fish looked...

Early November 2011 saw the staging of the Com Fishing Festival off Timor-Leste (East Timor). (Watch this great YouTube clip now!) This is the second time in three years that the government of this fledgling nation, situated just 70 minutes flying time north-west of Darwin, has attempted to host such an ambitious undertaking. Their first effort in 2009 was beset by logistical problems, and some visiting competitors came away unimpressed. However, several Australian anglers who competed this time report a dramatic improvement in both the organisational side of things and the calibre of fishing. The latter was primarily due to the festival being relocated to deep, blue waters off the coastal village of Com, near the far eastern end of the island. Here the currents of two seas split around Jaco Island and the Timorese mainland, producing excellent conditions for both reef and game species, particularly dogtooth tuna, wahoo, mackerel, rainbow runner and giant trevally. Well-known Darwin-based fishing and writing couple, Steve and Jo Starling, were amongst the 40-odd international anglers registered in the four-day tournament, and both gave glowing accounts of their experiences. “Timor-Leste is the most surprising place I’ve visited in 40 years as a travelling angler and writer,” Steve enthused. “While still burdened by poverty and the legacy of armed conflict, it’s a stunningly beautiful country. The people are also amongst the friendliest I’ve met. I was blown away by the experience, and pleased at how well Jo and I fished together as Team Shimano.” The structure of the tournament is unique, consisting of two separate divisions. One caters primarily for international anglers and is fished in accordance with IGFA regulations. The second is intended for local Timorese subsistence fishers who ply their trade from outrigger canoes and other simple craft,...