"...and bring your twelve weight" added Dave.  "There have been stacks of juvenile marlin off Fraser for the last few weeks, everyone's been catching 'em, and they are just starting to turn up in the bay."

The 'bay' of course was Moreton Bay, and I was discussing with my old fishing mate, Dave, my planned trip south from Darwin to visit friends and rellies in Brisbane over the Christmas break.  In fact, I had caught my first ever black marlin from his boat some 26 years earlier, on a live scad off Cape Bowling Green when we both lived in Townsville.  I was very much looking forward to repeating that early success on billfish all those years ago, now with the added challenge of a promised 'flyrod only' day!

Amid the pandemonium of Christmas feasts and beach picnics with more nieces and nephews than any ten other people, I received the phone call: "Drop everything:- tomorrow's the day".  It had been blowing hard along the coast for well over a week, and would do so again with another high pressure cell rapidly approaching the eastern seaboard, but tomorrow's forecast was for 2 knots in the morning, with a late afternoon change.  Perfect!

The sea was indeed calm next day with only the occasional white wash rolling over Flinders Reef as we trolled a teaser spread north-east of Cape Moreton.  A few shots at the first long-tails in the bay had provided a welcome distraction on the trip across, but now it had been quiet for far too long.  Earlier, a small marlin had swum casually past the back of our teasers without even turning its head, and a couple of striped tuna had woken us up momentarily, but it was tempting to doze as the 16ft Hydrofield gently lifted and kissed the barely perceptible swell.

Looking south-west over the teaser spread towards Cape Moreton

Suddenly the pusher rig let out a short yelp and we were on our feet.   Action stations! A small marlin was climbing all over the teasers, already lit up electric blue and bashing the daylights out of the pusher and the daisy-chain squid!  Dave and Pete rushed to rip the teasers in, hopefully leaving the frustrated predator looking around for the baitfish it had just 'killed', at which point the fly would go out to dead-drift slightly beyond and off to one side.  If all went according to plan, the marlin would turn onto the offering and take it heading away, to allow a good hook-set in the corner of the mouth.  Well, that was only the plan...!

What actually happened was the pusher fouled the bird on the end of the daisy-chain when the engine was knocked out of gear, and the whole lot got caught around the back of the outboard as the lads tried desperately to get the resulting mess in over the stern. All the while, the angry little black was zipping from one side of the outboard to the other, not at all daunted by Dave's shouts to "quick: drop the fly right here beside the motor!"  Resisting the temptation to add my leader and fly to the tangle, I waited for a better opportunity with the Colton graphite poised and leader in hand.  Thankfully the fish obliged and eventually dropped back a few metres, still 'lit up', and I was able to shoot the fly out into the empty water off to his left.  He turned perfectly, and I saw his mouth flash like a nymphing trout as he ate the fly.  Strip-striking as hard as I dared, the line immediately came up tight.  Fish on!

The marlin made a furious short run and was quickly airborne, treating us to several spectacular jumps and a tail-walk close to the boat.  Marvellous stuff!  Then he simply put his head down and took off, and before long more than half the 300 yards of hot-orange braid backing was arcing off into the middle distance.  When he jumped again I couldn't believe how far away he was, and the long session of line recovery began.

Several more line-recovery sessions followed as the back-end of the fly-line repeatedly came and went!  The oversize spool of the Megaloop flyreel made relatively light work of the task, and thanks to Dave's expert skippering for optimum boat position the fight was choreographed brilliantly.  After a few final half-hearted jumps off the stern the beaten fish was soon alongside ready for lifting aboard.

The hardest thing in the world is stepping back a couple of paces and handing all responsibility for landing a dream fish like this one off to one's mates!  Nevertheless, the bill and tail-wrist were quickly in hand and a lovely baby black of around 25 kg was dropped across my lap and posed for a hasty photo or three.

I've never been happy calling these little marlin black.  The electric blue shoulders and dorsals of this fellow contrasted markedly with the silver-white belly, and distinct highlights of neon pink and gold added a rainbow hue to the fish's flank.  Just beautiful!  Of interest was the high density of ectoparasites on the gill covers and around the head, but that didn't seem to have slowed him down at all!

The fly was quickly removed and back over the gunnel he went for a recovery swim.  It wasn't long before the fish began to kick against the bill-grip and Pete gently slid him clear of the hull.  We watched as he finned away into the depths, hopefully to continue the migration and return one day to the northern reefs as a full-grown gamefish.

I'm sure everyone appreciates that the capture of any billfish on fly is a team effort. Without the selfless dedication of a couple of good mates like Dave and Pete, to position the boat and rip the teasers away at the critical moment, there would be no marlin taken on the fly.  I am deeply endebted to those guys who I know would love to have been launching the fly themselves, as neither has yet accomplished a flyrod black, however they put it all aside for the day to give me the opportunity to achieve this major personal flyrodding milestone.

I am also aware that I had no right to expect a successful flyrod billfish capture on the first fish raised, on our very first attempt with the long wand.  Dave's positive attitude certainly played a defining role in the day's outcome.  I must also thank those of Morsie's ilk who have pioneered the technique in the past and generously published the recipe for success, thus encouraging us mere mortals to 'give it a go'.

And I had tied that big synthetic-fibre fly myself many months before, specifically for a shot at a marlin or sail.  Deeply satisfying stuff!

Heading home at the end of a memorable day