2000fish's Blog – Steve Wozniak's hunt for fish species

DATELINE: APRIL 8, 2024 – EXMOUTH, AUSTRALIA

We were halfway through our Exmouth adventure, and the scoreboard looked good. I had eight species and four world records thus far (20 and five for the overall trip,) and we still had two full days to go.

We changed boats for those last two days, and headed out with Captain Corry and deckhand Mitch of Exmouth Fishing Adventures. These guys had been highly recommended, and they did not disappoint.

That’s Corry next to David, and Mitch with the blue baseball cap. Spoiler alert – these guys were awesome. If you’re going to travel this far to go fishing, fish with them.

The first picture I saw of Mitch, from the website. I’m not sure which croaker it is, but it’s a beast.

We launched from an isolated pier about 10 miles north of town.

A gorgeous location, but not recommended for swimming. Indeed, I do not recommend swimming anywhere in Australia except the pool at the Park Hyatt Sydney, and even then, be careful.

The water had gone almost completely flat, and we headed out for what would become the most statistically unlikely fishing day I have ever logged. In short, I caught only four total fish on the boat that day, but each of them was either a new species or world record. (And in one case, both.) 

We started by looking for the dreaded longtail tuna. These pelagics have been a thorn in my side (and other body parts) for years – I have been in the middle of huge schools of them several times without so much as a bite. But the crew seemed confident. Just as we were settling in for what I presumed would be a long ride offshore, Corry yelled out – “Tuna!” We circled the boat around and started throwing metal jigs. I hooked up first – a solid fish that peeled a bunch of line – but I managed to let it get in the motor and cut me off. David lost his first fish to sharks, but he got his second – a small longtail. I got hit again instantly, and soon had my fish – an even smaller longtail – at the boat. At the time, it didn’t even occur to me to keep casting – I finally, finally had landed a very old adversary. There were loads of them out there, and in hindsight, I probably should have stuck it out for a more dignified one, but there were other species to get.

David’s longtail. It was bigger than mine. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before, but David’s hat is quite the fashion statement, which I am certain is the epitome of cool in some isolated culture.

Aaaaaaaand … my longtail. I officially have no shame.

My longtail, photographed in a way that doesn’t show how darn small it was.

A decent longtail, pulled off of Corry’s website.                       

I immediately sent the photo to Shaun Furtiere, the fabled Melbourne guide. He responded “That is the smallest longtail tuna I have ever seen.” I was still ok with it.

Our next stop was for a super-deep drop, in excess of 1000 feet. The target – deepwater snappers and some very big grouper that frequent these depths. David got on the scoreboard first, pulling up a brace of big ruby snapper.

The crew was amazed that we got these through the sharks – nice work David.

On my next drop, I got absolutely crushed by something that had no interest in coming off the bottom, and in 1200′, that’s an intimidating prospect. I eventually budged it, and then started making some progress. A foot at a time. Both guys guessed grouper, and I had to agree with them, because as it got midwater, it stopped fighting and just got heavy, as they do when the pressure changes. The whole process was about 30 minutes, but as I got to the leader, I could see an enormous glimmer of color in the clear water under the boat. I let slip a few unintentional expletives, as many fishermen do when a catch is unexpectedly large. As we got good sight of it, it was a positively huge grouper, one of the deepwater Hydrolycus, and was ecstatic. Not only did I have my largest fish of the trip, but also a new and rare species.

Dr. Johnson identified this as a greybar grouper, which is endemic to the area.

David got a greybar on his next drop, and we were finished with the deep water. Mine was bigger, but to be fair, David picked his up by himself, so we’ll call it a draw.

We moved to some more moderate depths, in the 500′ range. I used one of my trusted Accurate/Sportex travel combos, with some big pieces of squid on 3/0 circle hooks. The crew let us know it was a small piece of structure and we would have to hit it just right, and, even with no wind, it took us quite a while to get the drift positioned correctly in the current. But when we got across it, I had a solid thump that held me tight to the bottom, and then some smaller shakes and rattles. I started reeling up, in low gear, which always makes me say something like “Hey fish. This is an Accurate 870, the most powerful mid-size two speed in the world. Do you feel lucky today, fish? Well, do you?” 

In truth, I was the lucky one. I had some sense there were two fish on the line, but you don’t know until you get them up, and there were always sharks to worry about. It took about 10 minutes until I saw color, which was silver and big. “Northern Pearl Perch” said Corry, to my great delight, and as he swung it on board, we noticed that the bottom hook held a bright red, spiny creature known as a Japanese Soldierfish. 

I was flabbergasted. The Pearl Perch – Samurai. New species and clear world record. I had already caught the soldierfish, in Brunei, but this one was much bigger and would also be a record. Two records and a species on a single drop. That was new even for me. Talk about an efficient day.

A northern pearl perch. It looks like a giant pirate perch to me, and yes, I was sulking about pirate perch even 9,926 miles from home.

The soldierfish, which is a beast by soldierfish standards.

The boat landing looked like an interesting place to spend a few minutes before we headed back to town and dinner. I started wading and casting small jigs, and was rewarded with a hard strike and a spirited, side-to-side fight. It was a striped scat, another new species, and before I finished, I had also gotten a Western yellowfin bream, which meant that I had five species for the day. (And had caught more fish from the dock than I had on the boat.) I may have had a beer and three quarters that night.

The scat. Highly venomous. Do not put this in your pants.

The bream. This is the seventh Acanthopagrus on my list, caught everywhere from South Africa to Qatar to Australia to Taiwan.

Months later, David sent me an Instagram clip of a crocodile swimming near where I had been wading. But it was probably eaten by a shark, which was in turn eaten by a spider.

Our final day broke calm and flat, unlike my underwear when David placed that cutout spider replica in the car visor. My screams are still echoing around the rental car. 

We spent the day bouncing between shallower reefs, and we easily caught 50 fish each, including some nice gamesters like Queensland mackerel on spoons.

One of David’s mackerel. These pull hard.

One of mine. I first caught this species in Weipa in 2009.

These things have savage teeth. They are a frequent cause of breakoffs. And needless to say, do not put this in your pants.

There are other mackerel species in the area that get positively huge. This one, also off Corry’s website, looks to be a narrow-barred Spanish. Look at the teeth.

I was laser-focused on trying to get a Rankin cod or a redthroat emperor, both rather uncommon, so while there was not a big batch of new species, the fishing was ridiculously good.

Somewhere in there, we had a coincidence for the ages. I pulled out my last clean towel, which was an extra “terrible towel” from a Pittsburgh Steelers game. Mitch instantly recognized it – “That’s a terrible towel.” he said. When I sat there looking astonished, he explained that his wife is an American from Pittsburgh. Small world.

I left it for them as a wedding present.

In the afternoon, David somehow managed to land a double whiptail, which, although larger than my earlier record, would go in the books as a tie. (My scale goes in four-ounce increments, so my one pound fish would tie his 1.24 pound fish.)

David and his first world record. Now Rachael will take him seriously.

The Fish Gods even gave a slight nod to my perseverance, rewarding me with the redthroat at the end of the day.

Species 14 of the Exmouth portion of the journey and 26 overall so far in Australia.

Even the sharks finally gave me a break. One of the few I actually landed turned out to be a new species for me – the hardnose shark.

They owed me one for all the lost fish and broken gear.

Originally thinking it was a milk shark, I didn’t pursue it further at the time. The ID came more than a year after the trip, courtesy of Marine Scientist and shark expert Clinton Duffy, based out of New Zealand. This guy is absolutely amazing and has been very generous with his time on some thorny identifications.

My final fish in Exmouth was a beastly longnose emperor.

It was a triumphant four days, except for the amount of time I spent checking for spiders, and we celebrated with a seafood meal that evening during which I might have ordered two full beers.

Much like Cousin Chuck’s honeymoon, the flight back to Perth was quick and uneventful. David ran me by a bait store to get supplies for an evening effort, and then dropped me off at a hotel in Fremantle Harbour. (They had guests at their condo, and you also have to figure that 10 straight days of me could strain any marriage.) I couldn’t thank David enough for his generosity and his local knowledge, and for renewing a friendship that’s been going on for something like 10 years. 

Wiping my tears and casting emotion aside, I got my gear ready and walked onto the jetty in front of my hotel. There just had to be a tommyrough waiting for me – I saw kids catch them just a few feet away. I did not get one. They must be related to spearfish. But I did get two very unexpected catches – a sand trevally and a brown chub, both new species. I had a magnificent steak dinner, and got a few hours of sleep before I would make a final dawn effort at a tommyrough before I got on the plane to Sydney.

A sand trevally, close relative to the east coast silver trevally. I briefly held the record on the silver, before Scott and Sue Tindale, a highly-regarded angling couple from New Zealand, broke it repeatedly. My original fish was one pound even – the record is now over 15.

The brown chub, a mercifully easy ID in the whole Kyphosus mess.

Morning came quickly. I had about two hours to fish, and the trumpeters were savage. But I kept with the strategy the bait shop guys had given me – burley, burley, burley, and a lightly-weighted #8 hook with shrimp. The three other anglers I could see were all catching tommyrough, and I kept catching the trevally, which they all wanted. Moments before I had to go pack and shower, I finally got my target. Kids catch these by the dozens all year, and I had to put in several days to get just one – this is how the Fish Gods operate.

The 30th and final species of an amazing 10 days.

A last view from my room in Fremantle.

On the way back to San Francisco, I stopped in Sydney for a couple of days. Alas, it was too windy to do any serious fishing, although I did play around a bit in front of the Hyatt and get some nice photo upgrades on the usual harbor suspects.

That’s the Park Hyatt Sydney, one of my favorite hotels anywhere. My first stay there was 26 years ago, when I had fewer than 100 species. Time flies.

Taken from the hotel restaurant.

Fishing in front of the hotel – this is a fanbelly filefish, a species I first caught in Singapore.

A sign at the aquarium. I couldn’t help myself – I have the record on both species.

I got to catch up with some dear old friends, have a few outstanding meals, and even see a couple of tourist attractions.

Steve Baty, who is both a good friend and a tourist attraction.

The entrance to Botany Bay – I have caught at least 20 species and five records in spots you can see in this particular photo. The first time I ever fished in there was May of 2000, with Scotty Lyons. When we tied up to a navigational marker, Scotty told me it was the same marker Captain Cook had tied up to in 1770. I didn’t figure it out until much later that evening.

Sydney is a special city, a place I had seen in encyclopedias as a kid and never thought I would actually see in person, and it still amazes me to be there, even 30 years after my first visit. As we lifted off and flew out over Botany Bay, where I could point to dozens of places I had been fortunate enough to fish, I could think of nothing but coming back again. Five hours west, there was a samsonfish waiting for me.

Steve