Fishing: Why not try the gentlemanly art of jiggling?

By Geoff Thomas

Gone fishing

The first snapper I saw caught on a jig was caught by accident.

It was about 30 years ago and we were fishing off the mouth of the Rangitaiki River, where it pours into the Bay of Plenty at Thornton.

The plan was to spin or troll off the river mouth with trout lures called tobies for the tough kahawai that haunt the beakers.

An overseas friend was having fun tangling with big 3kg and 4kg kahawai on 4kg spin outfits. It was just a question of tossing the silver toby out, letting it sink down about a metre, then retrieving steadily. On this light tackle the kahawai, which are aptly named sea trout, or salmon, in Australia in recognition of their similar colouring and behaviour, would teach any trout a lesson in strong swimming.

They jump better than a trout, and certainly pull harder. But trout still retain a certain delicacy that the rambunctious kahawai could never attain.

A lure was cast out, the rod laid down while a fish was boated. Suddenly the unattended rod started jerking and bobbing. The visitor grabbed it and struck what was obviously a powerful fish.

It tore line from the reel and it was necessary to follow it in the boat for nearly 20 minutes before a large silver shape gleamed in the brown water. A magnificent snapper surfaced, totally exhausted after a long fight on the light gear, the small toby dangling brightly from the corner of its jaw.

That snapper weighed 9kg, and when cleaned was found to be packed with baby flounder or dabs, all around 10cm long. It does not take much imagination to visualise the toby lure drifting down to the bottom and kicking up a puff of sand as it settled, perfectly simulating the action of a startled baby flounder in front of the prowling snapper.

Today, snapper are caught routinely on jigs designed to simulate just that action, but the cycle has been reversed and trout anglers are turning to snapper jigging tackle to target trout on the deep lakes in Rotorua and Taupo.

New technology helps, with wafer-thin, strong carbon fibre rods, baitcaster reels and braided line as delicate as a thread from a spider's web but a hundred times stronger - and the whole outfit can be deftly operated with one hand.

But the technique has been adapted to suit the more sedate behaviour of rainbow trout, which seek the cool depths of the lakes during the heat of summer.

While jigging at sea involves wide, sweeping movements of the rod-wielding arm to make the business end leap and jerk around in front of the quarry, trout jigging is a more gentlemanly affair, ranging from a mere jiggle of the wrist to a totally relaxed approach with the rod resting in a holder and the angler resting on a seat nearby.

It appears that trout are similar to people in their tastes - if food is put in front of them and no effort is called for apart from a lazy opening of the mouth, they will succumb to the temptation.

So to make it as easy as possible for the trout to locate and bite the lure, some very successful jig exponents at Rotorua allow the boat to drift quietly along with the jig suspended close to the lake bed and a fly suspended about a metre above it.

These tandem lures move gently along, perhaps with an occasional oscillation as the boat rocks in the wake of a passing waterskier.

The trout, which are mooching around in the dark water 30m below the bright sunlight, decide that the fishy-looking metal lure or the slim smelt imitation have no business intruding on their lethargy and deal to one of them the only way they know how - with their mouth.

Whether the 20g or 25g metal jig acts mainly as a weight to deliver the fly to the fishing zone, or attracts fish in its own right, is a moot question. Both hook trout, but as to which is the more attractive, only the trout can explain.

The system works, and on occasions it is deadly. Like all fishing, only a handful of those involved actually catch fish. But the fish-less would be wise to observe how it is done.

The spot which is selected is a most important factor, as the trout seem to prefer a rough lakebed, with rocks or sunken logs interrupting the smooth expanse of mud which coats most of the floor of the deep lakes.

Perhaps the obstructions create miniature swirls in currents which meander through the depths of what may appear to be a totally still expanse of water.

But jigging, or jiggling as it may be more accurately labelled, is well worth trying.