Fishing: Skipper snaps it up

How do you catch the biggest snapper in a fishing contest but don't get a prize, then you buy your own fish for $250? Well, it's simple, really. You have to be the skipper of the boat and, when it is a charter vessel like Thor, you are expected to be in the prize money.

The story started when a bunch of plumbers and blokes from support businesses boarded boats all around the North Island on Thursday two weeks ago to fish in the annual Chesters fishing contest.

Based in West Auckland, Chesters is a big name in the world of plumbing and this was the 20th consecutive annual contest, an event which keen anglers anticipate eagerly for its impressive prizes and for the glory of being presented with one of those prizes. But this is a fishing contest with a difference.

Contest fishing is usually restricted to a certain zone but these contestants can go anywhere. Literally. If you want to drive all night, or fly to the Far North or the Bay of Plenty - off you go. And some do. They will even journey to the remote Ranfurly Banks, off East Cape, and struggle into the weigh station with bins of giant kingfish and hapuku.

So when our team boarded the vessel Thor at Ti Pt, across the water from Omaha, out of Warkworth, it was with high hopes of finishing in the money. Fishing started at 7am on Friday, and the plan was to head across to Great Barrier Island for an early start on the snapper grounds. The Thor team picks up prizes every year, so the hopes were well founded. But there was a bit of a problem.

"The forecast is not looking good. Winds tomorrow of 50 or 60 knots. There is a cyclone coming down from Tonga and we're going to cop the edge of it," said our skipper, Aaron Covacich. "We can overnight in Fitzroy, then head round to the east side for some shelter. On Saturday morning it will be lovely and calm and we can head out and get some 'puka."

And that is how it panned out. The trip across to the Barrier was pretty comfortable in the strengthening southwesterlies. Smokehouse Bay at Port Fitzroy was full of launches, sailboats and a handful of runabouts which had dashed across to beat the weather, but none of them would be poking their noses out in the morning.

Our nose was bashed around but not bloodied, as the waves came roaring through from the mainland side of the Hauraki Gulf and Thor rode them like a seasoned bronco rider, its heavy hull and solid 2m keel surfing down the bigger rollers as we passed Miners' Head.

Then, around the Needles and the wind was reduced to howling eddies which flowed over the cliffs and picked up steam before screaming on towards Chile a long, long way over the horizon. But Covacich knows these waters like the proverbial back of the hand and after a couple of drops with live baits and jigs on some pins for kingfish and some break-offs and a youngster returned to grow up, he motored across to a shallow reef for some serious snapper straylining.

Snapper started coming over the side, slowly but enough to keep the boys' interest perked, and when a couple of "horses" broke the line, it was time to get serious. Back and forth from one reef to another, waiting for the tide to turn, and Covacich showed us his special big snapper baits. He takes a fresh-caught trevally or maomao and slices it from the head back, leaving a boneless fillet hanging from the head, then rigs it on a fixed two-hook trace. "They like fresh bait, without the bones," he explained, casting it way out over the reef.

The wind continued to pick up hats like frisbees and whip out over the roiling sea. At times it was hard to even stand up without gripping the rail with white knuckles. Fishing continued into the night, and some of the players succumbed and relaxed with a libation, while a hard core kept the rods working.

Covacich was one of these and, about 11.30, he shouted and leaned into his work, trying to keep the fish on his line from heading into the reef. He won, and soon a gleaming, scaly, great snapper with thick rubbery lips and large knob on its head was lying on the floor of the boat.

"With this wind everybody will be restricted, and this could be the biggest snapper," he offered. The only slight hiccup was the fact that as the skipper he was not actually entered in the contest.

"We'll weigh it in, and it will go in the auction. But it leaves it open for somebody else to win the prize."

Everything else went according to the original plan. The wind died away overnight and, with only a couple of hours left, the 12km trip out to the hapuku rock yielded half a dozen 'puka.

Weighmaster Paul Barnes squinted at the read-out on the electronic scales: "Nine point nine eight two kilos," he announced. That is about 22 pounds. It was the biggest snapper, and it sold for $250 when put up at the auction. The auction is always popular. The biggest hapuku at 30kg sold for $160, and 2kg crayfish were snapped up, along with snapper, trevally and John Dory.

The auction raised more than $4000 for the Manukau Volunteer Coastguard, and the final irony is that Aaron wanted his snapper for mounting and bought it. So he not only donated his fish which could not win a prize, but he bought it back - and he also donated a day's charter, raising a further $3000 for charity.

Nice bloke.