Murray cod – King of the river, king of the night

There is group of diehard anglers who will go to any lengths to tangle with the local Murray Cod population. 

They can be seen on Lake Burley Griffin casting spinnerbaits for hours into the nooks and crannies along the shoreline. They can be seen lined up shoulder to shoulder on the break wall at Yerrabi Pond. And they can be seen wearing head torches, gators and toting backpacks, burrowing through the tea tree and blackberry along the Molonglo and Murrumbidgee rivers. Covered in scratches and dirt, these strange creatures emerge from the undergrowth like a lost traveller, except with a fishing rod in hand instead of a walking stick.

The reward for this persistence is the opportunity to tangle with southern Australia’s most iconic freshwater fish, the mighty Murray cod.  I use the word ‘opportunity’ deliberately.  Cod are notoriously fickle feeders. Changes in water temperature, sunlight and barometric pressure can switch them on and off the bite in minutes.  A drop in pressure as a summer thunderstorm looms or rising pressure during the autumn months are often feeding triggers.  What this means is an apparently deserted and barren stretch of river can come alive and a known hotspot can turn completely lifeless.  I’ve been lucky enough, as of just last week, to experience the full range of fishing conditions.  To be clear though, it has taken dozens of sessions where the most action has been a single fish, a single bite or even nothing at all.   But having experienced just how extraordinary fishing for our inland native fish can be, I can’t help tell the story so that others might treasure these fish as we do.

During the day we cast spinnerbaits, one of the most snag resistant lures ever designed for rocky and timber filled rivers. An accurate cast to a rocky point was occasionally rewarded with a solid thump on the line.  But it was the hour between darkness and the sun rising or setting that is entrenched in my memory. This is the domain of the surface lure, big floating pieces of timber or plastic that lurch from side to side.  Casting towards a large protruding rock in the river, the lure landed with an almighty SPLASH.  I waited a couple of seconds.  Before I had turned the reel the water erupted with a sound like a muffled gunshot.  As the water settled the lure was still, floating and stationary. Apparently the fish had missed the hooks.  We had a dozen moments like this, sometimes the cod tried to inhale the surface lure as it landed, or as it tried to ‘get away’ and sometimes a single fish would have four or five attempts at the same lure on consecutive casts. Cod are enthusiastic if not clumsy hunters.  The three fish that were landed were promptly released.

These lures work well because they mimic prey like lizards, frogs, rats or even ducklings.  Stumble across a water dragon on a branch during the night and you’ll understand why they are so reluctant to enter the river.  While Murray cod can be stubbornly territorial during the day, during the night nothing in the water is safe.

Whether it was the rising barometer, the first signs of autumn before the onset of the colder weather, or the fact that very few anglers ever fish in the section of the river we found ourselves in, only time will tell. But for now, I feel privileged to have experienced a ‘hot’ cod session and seen a few green fish –including one that measured a whopping 93cm.  It is also heartening that those dedicated anglers who spend hours and hours chasing this fish do so, not for food, but for the pleasure of releasing the fish unharmed.  Murray cod truly are king of the rivers, king of the night and well worth going the extra mile just for the opportunity to see one.  Long live the king!

Graham Fifield www.flickandflyjournal.com