BLOG: Haunting fishing images

OVER the years I've accumulated a large number of fishing images – some I think are wonderful, many are modest and allow me to relive some spectacular memories, but there are a few that cause chemical imbalance and anxiety – these images haunt me.

One photo in particular reminds me of the day that I couldn't catch a fish to save myself. It was a day the Fishing World crew were in Coffs Harbour having an exploratory fish prior to the Dave Irvine Memorial Snapper Classic. The odds were in my favour more so than on other days; normally there would have been at least three or four people on board but on this fateful day it was just myself and editor Jim Harnwell.

The snapper fishing had been spectacular during the preceding sessions and this session was to be no different. I caught some wonderful fish the day before and my confidence levels were high. When Jim landed the first fish of the morning not long after we commenced our initial drift, I knew we were in for a good day. Little did I know that Harnwell had conjured up some black magic with luck that day seemingly siphoned from my side of the boat to his...

While I may have caught a couple of fish I was unceremoniously out fished with Jim catching the bulk that morning. Our outfits were the same, lures and jig heads identical, leader type, size and length a duplicate of one another – I was slowly cloning his outfit and technique in attempt to share some of the action but my efforts were in vain. Jim even resorted to using two outfits, one in hand and one in the rod holder – both rigged similarly and both sharing the same voodoo that transferred luck from my rods to his.

It was late in the morning when I took the accompanying fateful shot, an image that reminds me of that traumatic, fishless day. The image wasn't technically brilliant and I didn't have time to do anything but hit the shutter - it was an opportunistic shot of Jim lunging at a rod in the rod holder but one which brings with it the onset of clenched fists and grinding teeth on reflection. After catching a nice red, I'd grabbed my camera to take a photo of the smiling editor with his prize and no sooner had I depressed the shutter release than the unattended rod in the rod holder went off. As Jim lunged for the other outfit I likely blurted a profanity and was no doubt met with a retort of some description – I also hurriedly took a photo for prosperity, a photo that still haunts me!

I'm not sure if it's the memory of a fishless day or whether it's simply that auspicious smile which contrasts my probable disdain, however, there's something in the photo which forces an emotive response - along with a bout of fist waving.

There are many other photos also that haunt me – one that springs to mind is the happy snap of my old man and his proud catch of whiting that I suggested he place in the keeper net... I wish I didn't motor off with the keeper net deployed, the consequence of that action meant that whiting was no longer on the menu and I had to dodge a couple of stiff backhanders! I hide that photo from my dad – we still have a chuckle over the trip but I know that his memory is long and losing a meal of prized whiting is still punishable by backhander many years later.

Photography is a magnificent medium, allowing us to capture a fleeting or special moment and providing the opportunity to share those moments with others. It also allows us to capture moments that trigger certain emotions, images that haunt.

Do any of your fishing snaps recount a tale of woe or cause you anxiety?