Surely not, could it happen again?

I had been fishing for six hours, with a couple of schoolies to show for my efforts, when it was time to pack up. Again, I had maybe ten minutes at most before I had to leave before my parking ran out, when I received a knock...

I pulled up along the foreshore and paid for my ticket before making the walk to my spot. I had booked the day off in advance due to a combination of tides and weather. Well, at least the tides hadn't changed. The hoped for stormy south-westerlies had been replaced by a benign offshore breeze and blazing hot sun. I was so glad I brought sunblock with me.

Contrary to popular belief, I don't mind these conditions at the right time of year, so out went the first cast, three and a half hours before high tide. The usual setup, a large mackerel head and a gentle underarm plop. I sat back with the rod held and started to let the conditions slowly take over. It was warm, in fact, it became incredibly warm, and if I hadn't been prepared, I would have been burnt to a crisp as this spot is such a sun trap. Incredible to think we are in October.

After about 40 minutes, I experienced a series of missed bass runs from over enthusiastic schoolies until I scaled down the bait size and hooked one of the culprits at around 2 lb. Feeling reasonably confident they were all that size, I reverted back to my large mackerel head and hoped the larger bass would make an appearance at some point.

An hour before high tide, I received another run that just felt better, and sure enough, as the line tightened to the rod, I felt the satisfying thump as the rod bent over. It was a lovely, strong fight, and I landed a slightly better one at 3¼ lb. An interested dog walker was delighted to see it swim away strongly.

I texted Rob, 'they’re getting bigger'. We both felt a good one was on the cards. But that was it. Over high tide and three hours down, not a touch.

Until, with just ten minutes left, I felt another knock. The braid moved in that unmistakable way of a large bass teasing the bait. I was ten yards back from the shoreline, so I crept forward, eyes locked on the line as it entered the water, feeling every twitch.

Surely not, I thought.

Then, just like that, the 'big bass' turned into another schoolie, darting off with the bait in a short, excited burst. I shrugged, laughed out loud, 'Really?', and packed up for the walk back to the car.