BRONCO SURFING

    This article was published in the March 2001 issue of Rod And Line fishing magazine.

Thomas, with his first fusilier, an excellent bait for GTs.

 
     Ouch! Agh! Ayuh! No, I wasn't being punched and kicked by someone. Just yelling to ease the pain from riding a wild bronco. The bronco happened to be a speedboat belonging to Thomas Pong. While heading out to Pulau Sembilan we encountered slow swells of about 2 meters. From the direction of the swells, there was no choice but to face them head on, once in a while, to stay on course. Hitting a high one, our boat would fly over the crest and land with a jarring thud. My two legs nearly pushed through the bottom of he boat when I jammed them with my back against the seat to ease the impact. Every once in a while I had to check the seat to see that my stomach wasn't plastered to it. At my age, I think I am a little over the hill to play rodeo cowboy. I realised it a little bit too late though.
     The reason for our fool hardiness was the annual Tow Foo Yue (fusiliers) fever. From September to November, they would move inshore to the islands around Pangkor and Pulau Sembilan areas. Judging from the many roe-ladened females caught, they could be coming for their annual sex and wife swapping parties. Joining in to spoil their sexual fun (real wet blankets) were hordes of anglers of all denominations. Many were sport anglers, part timers and professionals in their boats of all shapes and sizes, cruising all over these areas like ants smelling honey. It almost looked like a re-enactment of Dunkirk of the Second World War fame.
     When Thomas phoned, I grabbed his invitation with all my arms and legs. We bought our rations and baits at the market at Ayer Tawar. Our plan was to get ikan bilis (anchovies) from the many boats harvesting them. With baits and provision bought we headed for Kampong Baru, where Thomas's boat was kept at Moh Kee Boating Service. The ride along the Dinding River was quite pleasant. The same couldn't be said when we reached the open sea. That was when I became a rodeo cowboy.
     Our first destination was the rocky outcrop named Fairway Rock. Rounding the island, our sonar showed a lot of fish on the side of the island facing open sea. With our 'matchbox' it would be suicidal to fish here. Dropping anchor on the protected side we managed to land quite a number of good size fusiliers. The school's attention around the boat could not be kept with no ikan bilis as berley (we did not get fresh ikan bilis from the boats). Just before we upped anchor, I was hit by a tornado. My 20 lb casting rod tip was almost touching the surface of the sea. Line was being stripped from my reel as though in free spool. I managed to gain line a few times before losing twice the amount back. Finally my reel began to fill up again. Suddenly, the fish gave one last burst and the most dreaded thing happened. I think my line was cut by the corals at the bottom of the sea. Only a trevally could fight like that was our unanimous decisions.

My 'barracudized' tow foo yue.

 
     After the action had slowed down, we headed for Pulau Argus. The trip from Fairway Rock to Pulau Argus was a real test of our body structures. With high slow swells and white caps showing I think I should use WD40 on my joints before venturing out again. In the safe hands of Captain Thomas, we somehow survived the trip. A few likely spots were tried with satisfactory results. The trick was to pass all known thoroughfares of the fish and then used the sonar to locate them. The moment the sonar showed any fish our apollo rigs were immediately lowered to the bottom. Action would be fast and furious if the fish were in feeding mood. Normally the store bought apollos have six hooks which I cut into two or three hooks each. You see, with fast, hot action , multiple hook ups were very common. When frightened and crazy fish ran in different directions, break offs were very common. Further more, try to imagine bringing that bunch of frightened fish into your bathtub, with you sitting there naked. Do I need to elaborate?
     While at Argus, I hooked up a fusilier that fought  like a hooked trevally. My SM5600C and Daiwa Heartland rod handled the short burst effortlessly. After a few runs it was beaten or so I thought. Half way up, it got its second wind and I was really surprised by the fight that it put up. When it, or rather the head was hauled up, then only did I realised, its second wind was a barracuda. That razor thug robbed me!  We decided to up anchor after forty-five minutes of inaction and headed for the windward side. The swells were real bad as we were being tossed around like a polystyrene board. A boat with three professionals was spotted nearby and we headed for them.

This good size fella had just being landed by Thomas.

 
     When Thomas slowed down to enquire about their result, the bow of our boat dipped slightly and that  was when disaster struck. A high swell came riding up the bow and slammed into us. I have never felt so soaked before. Suddenly I remembered my camera which I had kept safely covered (or so I thought) underneath the bow section. Looking down, to my horror, I saw my camera soaking wet.
     At that very moment. I got a painful electric shock when the aluminium windscreen frame turned live with high tension current surging through it. The saltwater (good conductor of electricity) caused the shorting and the 70hp outboard spluttered and stopped. Sensing the danger (we were drifting towards the rocks), Thomas shouted to me to drop anchor.

This is Pulau Argus, where we were nearly smashed against the rocks.

     Now I was in the "save mother or wife first situation". Actually, there wasn't any difficulty to decide as I was given a Hobson's Choice. My life was more valueble than my camera, though I would really love to save it.
     Picking up my beloved gingerly, after the boat was secured, I found that it was soaking wet. The LCD screen flickered and the winder kicked a few times before my long serving camera breathed its last. It was real hard to accept that my long companion, that had won me so many prizes in competitions, finally was gone. I was jolted out of my misery when Thomas asked worriedly whether I was sad or frightened. He must have seen through the "synchronised swimmer's grin" plastered all over my face.
     By four, we had no choice but to head for home. Dark ominous clouds were forming in the far off horizon. As we were travelling with the wind, the ride was a lot easier on our "pat yuet sup ngs" (buttocks).

Passing the Malayan Flour Mill on our way out. See the aluminum wind screen frame? It came 'alive' after we were slammed by a wave.

     Soon we were back at the club house. While washing down the boat, another boat came in.
When they emptied their five ice boxes, our eyes pooped out. Hundreds of fusiliers were strewn all over the place. With bigger boats they could venture further and the baits they used - the ever popular ikan bilis.