Life on the Liverpool

Jock & Sue Dyason venture north to Arnhem Land

Anticipation was high. Two years ago we had fished Arnhem Land but sans fly gear. The barra fishing had been memorable. Their savage bite, legendary fighting ability and spectacular aerial antics had left us determined to visit again, to concentrate on fly fishing for these great fish.

Armed with a couple of 8-weight rods and our gear, we left Darwin and were soon flying over Arnhem Land in the late wet, bound for the aboriginal town of Maningrida on the banks of the Liverpool River-Russell Kenny has been granted a licence to fish their traditional waterways. It is difficult for the general public to sample the best fishing in Arnhem Land, as access is strictly controlled, but by using a commercial operator all the hassles associated with obtaining permits are taken care of.

Although barramundi can be found in most northern Australian waters, they are now scarce in many northern rivers, bays and estuaries due to commercial netting. However, the NT Government has recognised the benefits of tourism and has banned netting upstream in certain rivers including the Liverpool, with the result that barra numbers there have increased.

It was very hot and humid at the Maningrida airport, where we were met and whisked immediately to the boat ramp. It pays to come dressed for fishing. The unique aroma given off by the mangroves brought back memories of our previous trip as we motored a short distance up the Liverpool to where the river is about half a kilometre wide.

Barramundi love to lie near snags, waiting for their prey of prawns and small fish to come to them, but they don't necessarily inhabit every snag and that's where the expertise of a guide comes into play. These guys know pretty well where the fish are. No snag was visible where we first anchored the boat around 20 metres from the mangrove lined river bank, and there was only a slight tidal run. Russell assured us that there was a rocky bottom 4 metres beneath us, a favourite haunt of big barra.

Choice of fly is always a problem first up, but a bright Orange Thing had 'take me' written all over it and would give a semblance of visibility in the quite dirty water. The shooting head was cast out about 15 metres and after counting to 10 to allow the fly time to sink, I commenced stripping line with a short slow retrieve. Three casts later there was a tremendous jerk on the line as a barra took off with the fly straight towards the mangroves and I struggled to get the loose line off the floor of the boat and back onto the reel.

The 8-weight lever drag reel was handling it well as I managed to turn the fish upstream by applying a lot of pressure. The reel was down to about half the backing when the barra, a big one, jumped skywards. Line was gradually regained until the fish saw the boat and gave the 8 kg tippet a workout. Two more gill rattling jumps soon had the fish tired enough to net. Fantastic! Eighteen pounds, ten minutes to land, and only the third cast of the trip. We only hooked one fish from that particular rock bar, but that is top guiding all the same.

Boga grips that measure in pounds rather than kilos are used by most Top End guides nowadays to handle and weigh big fish. Using these, fish can be released in the water with minimum stress, or handled easily for a quick photo before release. Catch and release is the name of the game here, with only a few smaller barra, the non-breeders, being kept for the table. Russell is very conscious of protecting stocks for the future.

Further upstream, snags abound along the river banks. Fishability of these depends largely on tidal flow. A slow current is best, allowing a well presented fly to spend maximum time in the strike zone. During spring tides the flow becomes fast and fishing is more of a challenge. Coming off the neaps with the first of the outgoing tide is best.

Some of the most prolific fish-holding snags were often no more than a single small stick showing out of the water, but there must have been a mass of structure below the surface. From one such snag, ten barra were hooked and released, all small, to about 50 cm, but still willing fighters with an exceptional repertoire of aerial antics.

The fly that worked well in these situations was a green & white epoxyhead minnow pattern by Success Flies, although the Orange or Yellow Thing still worked as well. Russ said that green-and-white is a favourite barra colour in the river, whether it be fly or lure. The most important thing in presentation was to drop the fly within centimetres of the snag. The boat could easily be positioned so that a cast of no more than ten metres was required-accuracy being more important than distance. Mostly a fast sinking line proved superior to an intermediate, getting the fly quickly down to structure, while floating lines were not used at all when fishing snags.

At other snags out of the current, groups of barra could be seen 'tailing'-lying head down with tail gently finning close to the surface. It took several casts to groups like this to wake them up and get them to bite.

Further upstream, near the limit of tidal influence, the river narrows and the water was less murky. Here we came upon a school of small barra hard against the river bank actively 'boofing' prey into their cavernous mouths. The barra could be clearly seen as they fought for best position to get their share of what seemed to be a tiny brownish baitfish. We had great fun casting to these, trying various fly patterns and retrieves, but although we had many follows we just didn't have the right fly for this situation.

Fly fishing the snags, although fun, was hard work. Many a fly caught the snag or mangroves and it was a constant task to retrieve these. The heat when out of the breeze was almost suffocating at times, and gallons of sweat had to be constantly replaced by cool drinks. This at least gave the fish some respite.

Motoring upstream some 50 km, the river became cleaner and the bankside vegetation changed from mangrove to pandanus, palm and paperbark. There were numerous creeks draining from the floodplain and there was always a barra or two around these outflows, waiting to pounce on any food washed in. Tarpon were common here. Though mostly small, they are very active and would savagely take a fly meant for bigger fish.

A brightly coloured or flashy fly cast to where overhanging vegetation shaded the water brought spectacular hits from saratoga. Said to be like the lungfish, a living fossil, they have a protruding lower jaw and upward facing eyes with beautiful curved red bands on their scales. Saratoga up to 8 Ib were happy to take a fly from the surface or just below. Flies rarely got the chance to sink before they were hit hard. During their vigorous jumping antics, the saratoga would often throw the fly as they have a very hard mouth, difficult for the hook to penetrate. Saratoga are not a table fish as they are very bony, but are certainly a top sporting fish.

During our stay we fished almost the entire length of the Liverpool and its main tributary the Tomkinson, as well as several nearby mangrovelined creeks accessible only at high tide. But there was more! Tales about big GT's, queenfish and tuna crashing schools of baitfish around the reefs a few kilometres off the mouth of the Liverpool had us anxiously waiting for an opportunity to test our gear on some of these pelagics.

It seems that the schools of GT's and queenies are there most of the year. If schools are not visibly working, as evidenced by the flocks of birds circling and diving for morsels, it was merely a matter of exciting the schools by trolling a teaser popper without hooks and soon the fish would be easily spotted, weaving and diving below the boat. Small surface popper flies were then cast as far as the strong wind would allow.

As soon as they hit the water and were moved ever so slightly they were slammed. GT's hit so hard and fast that there is no time to clear any loose line lying in the boat and more than the odd bust off occurred! We slugged it out with double hook-ups and these brutes really tested the 8-weight gear. Queenfish were also abundant and were always willing to take a surface offering and to give an exciting aerial display.

At the comfortable camp up on the escarpment, there were always plenty of fishy stories told each evening. The anglers, tired after a hard day on the water, enjoyed their second and sometimes third helping of freshly caught and cooked mud crab entree, confident in the knowledge that the fishing would be just as good next day.