Aitutaki - Heaven on Earth

Even a Cook Islands paradise like Aitutaki isn’t immune to the devastating effects of a really vicious cyclone.
But, thanks to the island’s wondrous soils, plenty of self-healing had already taken place by the time we arrived for the Gary Parlour Wahoo Contest, just a handful of months after Cyclone Pat had rampaged its way across the island.
Nor was this recovery limited to the rapidly rejuvenating vegetation; while nearly all the friendly inhabitants had harrowing tales to tell if prompted, especially late at night, they too appear to have bounced back into robust life again. Indeed, there is the tangible feeling of a fresh new start in the air – Aitutaki is open for business once more.
Accompanied on this trip by Brett Patterson (Advertising Manager for NZ Fishing News), we had a rather wobbly start after heading to Maina Sunset Resort, where we believed we were staying; as it turned out, we’d been booked into the ‘casually luxurious’ Tamanu Beach Resort instead. I’d never been to this resort before, but it happens to be owned by an old friend of mine, Mike Henry, whom I’d hoped to catch up with during our stay.
However, just because Mike’s a mate, that doesn’t mean I’m going to say the resort is better than it really is – because, fortunately, I don’t need to. I can honestly say, hand on heart, that you’d be hard-pressed to construct better and more tasteful dwellings without losing that critical element that makes the Cook Islands so unique and thoroughly attractive. That’s why Brett and I looked at each other and giggled like schoolboys when we saw where we would be staying; we couldn’t believe our good fortune. And to complete our jubilation, it turned out we had a day of bonefishing to look forward to the following day.

Perfection in silver wrapping

For those not familiar with bonefish, they are generally found feeding over sandy, silty flats and lagoon shallows. Their silvery, foil-like skin reflects the surroundings so effectively, their presence is often betrayed only by the shadow they cast on the sand below. A very wary and flighty species, bonefish are notoriously hard to hook, but when you do, look out – they seem to have nitrous fuel packs strapped to their backs! Indeed, such is their blinding speed, many well qualified anglers consider them to be the finest lightweight sporting fish on this planet.
Consequently, Brett and I couldn’t wait to have a go, especially as we were lucky enough to have local guide Itu (‘E2’) at our disposal. And, sure enough, by the day’s end we’d enjoyed one of the most challenging, frustrating and exhilarating light-tackle fishing sessions ever. In fact, such was the intensity of that rollercoaster ride, there’s no way I could do it justice incorporated within this article, especially as the calibre of fishing available here looks set to rock the bonefishing world to its core.
I have had several local set-net fishers look me in the eye and tell me they’d caught bones double the size of the current all-tackle world record. Consequently, if the word gets out and the resource is looked after, I predict large numbers of crazy-keen bonefish aficionados making pilgrimages to Aitutaki and nearby islands in the future. Therefore, this experience will feature in the November or December issue, and I personally can’t wait to realise more of the island’s bonefishing potential as soon as possible.

The Gary Parlor Wahoo Contest

There’s no doubt about it, the Gary Parlor Wahoo Contest is a wonderful way to experience Aitutaki. Thanks to one of Aitutaki’s many big fans, the thoroughly affable Gary Parlour, this event has been going for many years and the community really gets behind it. Consequently, in addition to the balmy afternoons and evenings spent in the truly warm, friendly atmosphere of the Aitutaki Sportfishing Club, accompanied by plenty of chilled beers, dubious tales and constant laughter, there are also an impressive number of well organised get-togethers. These vary from hearty breakfasts and grilled meat and fish lunches to full-on feasts – and this is no exaggeration. Until this trip I doubt I’ve had a true feast before – and there turned out to be three of them over the contest!
I found this astounding. Despite going through some very tough times since the cyclone, the lovely people of Aitutaki managed to cover table upon groaning table with countless island delicacies; a mix of the bounty provided by land and sea. I took some photos, but simply couldn’t capture enough of the culinary treats to do it all justice, although my stomach did its very best!
Of course, the overall objective in this contest is to catch the biggest wahoo, along with many other well-known sportfishing predators found in the local waters, including dogtooth and yellowfin tuna, marlin, sailfish, giant and bluefin trevally, and mahimahi.
Part of the briefing involved combining crews with boats, and we were pleased to find ourselves aboard Jason and Don Watt’s charter boat, Foxy Lady, along with NZFN’s Rarotongan Area correspondent Wayne Barclay and a couple of locals.

Oh dear…

For us, the contest produced a catalogue of missed chances, starting almost immediately when our trolling session enticed a huge explosion of white water in the early morning light. Nearly all of the flying fish bait had been surgically removed just behind the head, leaving the bare game hooks flapping, yet nothing registered on the rod. How do wahoo do that?
Next stop was the FAD, where Don Watt let out the first small live mullet. Unfortunately, the line somehow got wrapped around the outboard leg and, seconds later, Jason alerted us to an impressive swirl as a decent mahimahi hoovered up the tiny 10cm bait. If we’d hooked up we would have been in deep trouble, but, almost thankfully, the bait was ripped off.
The next strike didn’t fare much better, with the reel’s ratchet shrieking crazily and the mahimahi bounding off in a series of muscular jumps – but it fell off soon afterwards, and Brett suffered a similar fate two minutes later.
That wasn’t the end of our misfortunes by any means though. After working up a sweat with a futile session of deep-water jigging, I took over a live-bait outfit and was duly rewarded by a steady stream of line smoking out from under my thumb. But just as I engaged the gears, the line suddenly went slack as the fish abruptly spun 180 degrees and erupted from the water, mouth agape and huge, silvery body propelling it towards the boat.
“Marlin!” I screamed. But no, instead it was one of the biggest sailfish I’ve seen, the estimated 60kg fish having inhaled the tiny live-bait attached to an equally diminutive size #2 Black Magic GZ hook.
Winding frantically as the sail continued to thrash its way towards us in a maelstrom of foam, I just couldn’t come tight to set the hook, and then, to my chagrin, another line slid up along mine and efficiently removed the little hook from the sail’s jaw.
Later that afternoon, with the fishing slow and the sun hot overhead, the final missed chance came, and rubbed more salt into the wound. I was working a neat-looking rubber ‘Live Mackerel’ made by Williamson at the time. Designed primarily for trolling, I decided the internal weight would also suit dropping down on the drift and erratically winding back. That’s when the beaked whales arrived.
The first one really surprised us, its huge form appearing from nowhere, just a metre from the stern, the coppery colouration filtering up through the depths, keeping us guessing its identity. Then, soon after, it came to the surface and was quickly joined by two more, so I dropped my outfit into the holder, the lure still out, and grabbed my camera.
Belying their reputation for shyness, these wonderful mammals proceeded to swim and frolic all around us in close proximity, before finally departing ten minutes later.
Then, upon retrieving my lure, I found deep slashing teeth marks in it, with only the leaden innards preventing complete and efficient amputation. Bloody typical – and that pretty much summed up our day – no one likes having a sad, crying face drawn on the contest’s whiteboard, next to their boat’s name.
Fortunately, several other boats did much better, although amongst the half-dozen impressive wahoo captures were three that had been terminally marred by sharks, including remains that weighed 25kg and 35kg. But another nice wahoo, also weighing 35kg, remained whole, and this turned out to be the eventual winner for exuberant woman angler, Rima Mata.
As for the venue that night, it was going off, in a way that only Polynesians really know how to do well – but Brett, Wayne, Jason and I snuck off around 11pm, just as it was really getting going. We had another early start and wanted to kick that sad face off the board and into touch.

A better start

The sun had yet to show itself when that nasty little monkey got bucked off our backs. I’d been surprised when Don replaced the rear-most flying fish with a Halco Laser Pro bibbed minnow, but this move proved well founded, producing a nice little yellowfin tuna just 15 minutes after commensing trolling.
Then we slipped back into the unfortunate ways of the day before, with two howling wahoo strikes – again on the Halco – resulting in one set of bare hooks, as well as one of those really horrible sights: a short, un-crimped section of wire!
It was obviously time to rethink our strategies, so Jason suggested some jigging and popper fishing.
We started off at a nearby piece of structure, and the very first lift of the jig produced a nice coral trout for me. But my next fish was nailed by a big shark just under the boat, as was my first suspected dogtooth, producing a desperate wrestle that eventually saw the heavy assist-hook cord severed.
And then I hooked a monster, my 300g Black Magic jig getting thumped as it fluttered down towards the coral below. As is usually the case with dogtooth, the brief period of stunned inactivity following hook-up allowed some frantic short-stroking, gaining a few vital metres, before, as always, the tuna’s big tail finally kicked into action, bulldozing down, down, forever down. Pinning me firmly against the rail, I wasn’t surprised when the rod tip eventually flew back up, I fell back and the fish went free. Oh well, that’s the end of my big jig supply. Hey Jason, let’s go popper fishing!
Unfortunately, I largely stuffed up our popper fishing, too. Although several giant trevally attacked my lure in the crashing swells and amongst the many saliva-producing coral guts and bommies, the biggest specimens ended up prematurely released, despite Jason doing a sterling job at Foxy Lady’s helm. So, once the explosive strikes, broken and bent hooks, burned thumbs and severed 150lb leaders had been consigned to history, we’d only boated trevally to a rather modest 15kg – but that’s GT fishing for you sometimes!
Upon returning to the Aitutaki Sport Fishing Club soon after, we discovered our tuna and giant trevally were amongst the leaders and the prizes, but I must say this really didn’t matter. After all, relative to the thoroughly enjoyable time I’d had with the sociable, friendly competitors and locals, the unbelievable feasts I’d helped eat, and the spectacular sights and experiences we’d had out at sea, including some very diverse and at times frenetic fishing, winning a prize or two seemed almost superfluous.

The perfect finish

I’m so glad I convinced Brett to join me in a light-tackle session on the last morning. Wandering down to the fine white sand and sparkling waters in front of Tamanu Beach Resort, a fly-rod in my hand and a spin-rod in Brett’s, we hadn’t even walked 20 metres when baitfish flew everywhere as a small group of GTs swirled and crashed through them.
“Yep! Go on! Cast!” I urged Brett, as shadowy forms continued to race about just scant metres from where we stood on the sand.
A little lob and a couple of jiggles saw a bluefin trevally flashing out from nearby reef structure to hammer the soft-plastic, beating the marauding GTs, but the end still came quickly, a three-second shriek from the reel suddenly cutting into silence as the line was ripped across nearby sharp coral.
Brett slowly turned around and looked at me, the line hanging limply from the rod tip and his mouth still open in a big ‘O’. Wow.
That was just the beginning. Unfortunately, my limited writing skills prevent me from adequately portraying just how delightful it was to be shuffling through the white-sand shallows, either casting to shapes ghosting across the sunlight-dappled seafloor or to the unseen predators that cruised or hid amongst the many coral structures. Suffice to say, there wasn’t anything I’d rather have been doing, even though the fish encountered were often more remarkable for their beautiful colours and bizarre shapes than for their size and sport-fishing qualities. Best of all, it was completely absorbing; just me with a mate, fishing in paradise, completely and utterly contented.

Acknowledgements

Mark and Brett would like to sincerely thank: Air Rarotonga for their enjoyable flight and the great service; the friendly people at the Cook Island Tourism Bureau for helping put the trip together; Mike Henry for accommodating us in the lovely Tamanu Beach resort; Itu (E2) Davey for the spectacular bonefishing; Jason and Don Watt (Aitutaki Sea Charters) for two enjoyable days of fishing; the Aitutaki Game Fishing Club for great times, company and food; and, of course, Gary Parlour for starting up this great event.


Full Article:  Fishingnetnz