Wildside- recyling metal for lures

Fish lured with aid of spare parts.

 

© Zane Mirfin, Wildside column, Fish lured with aid of spare parts, Nelson Mail, 27 August 2011

Flash of Inspiration: A fishing lure recycled from a metal plate that spent three years inside zane Mirfin's leg fooled this sea perch.	In the bag: From left, Steve Bell, Scott Mirfin and Stuart Mirfin with a mixed bag of perch, parrotfish and blue cod.  Steve bell holds the ankle lure with a sea perch attached.

It’s hard to believe it’s been more than three years since I started writing this column.

In my first Wild Side in July 2008 – headlined ‘‘Injury proves lesson in the value of being prepared’’ I described
skidding on ice and breaking my ankle hunting in the remote Marlborough wilderness where I ‘‘hobbled with a
wobbly, floppy, bone-grindingly useless left leg to a snow-covered bank’’.

Luckily, with the modern miracles of satellite phone and helicopter, help wasn’t too far away and it was off to
Christchurch Hospital for surgery on the badly dislocated ankle with the bone broken in three places.

Screwing my ankle together with a metal plate and six screws got me walking again and with a bit of physio
by Nayland guru Lyndon Chandler, I was almost good as new.

In the intervening three years, my ankle had performed well with plenty of hunting and fishing in some really
rugged places but I could still feel the plate rubbing against my boot, and I certainly knew when I whacked the plate against rocks. My ankle was also prone to stiffening up overnight and it didn’t like the cold water when wading wet.

Orthopaedic surgeon Julian Ballance, anaesthetist Alastair Mark and the great team at Manuka Street Hospital took care of all that just a few weeks ago. One minute I was lying there talking rock climbing at Mt Owen with Alastair and the next minute I woke up all stitched up minus the metal hardware.

Julian gave me a good report immediately after surgery and handed me a shiny stainless steel metal plate
and six screws in a sterilised bag – it sure looked like something I could use to catch a fish with.

As a boy, I always loved Maori mythology and especially the legend of how Maui caught the North Island or te
Ika a Maui – the fish of Maui. Preparing a special fishhook, which had a point made from a piece of his grandmother’s jawbone, he punched himself in the nose and smeared the hook with his own blood to catch the sacred fish.

The piece of metal I’d carried around in my leg for three years was a non-event next to the legend of Maui but it was definitely going to be the most expensive lure I was ever going to use. If I can read Julian Ballance’s handwriting correctly, the new plate and screws were worth about NZ$800, but can’t be re-used. With six screw holes along its length, the plate had plentiful attachment points to add split rings, swivel and treble hooks.

Making the lure was the easy part and now all I had to do was go fishing. The opportunity wasn’t long in coming when my brother rang to suggest a day out along the western face of D’Urville Island. The day was stunning and the company stellar with brother Scott, father Stuart and mate Steve Bell, all of Richmond.

Trying out deep on GPS marks of isolated mounts on foul ground, we fished with heavy jigs catching some nice fish, but it wasn’t until late in the day when Scott finally suggested we go in close to catch some blue cod before blasting for home. At last, a chance to catch a fish on my home-made ankle lure.

Attaching it to my light soft-bait rod, with a sinker above for weight and a couple of saltwater flies tied on as
droppers, it worked a treat.

On the first few drops I got sea perch, often known as jock stewart, plus some brightly coloured parrotfish, and even a leatherjacket. After that it was pretty much cod all the way for everyone. On one drop, I even caught three legal cod at the same time. In next to no time, we had our dozen blue cod in the bin and were homeward bound.

The rich marine waters of D’Urville have always provided fishing magic for us and on this trip we had explored some new fishing spots and even went ashore at Otu Bay for a quick look on the beach.

It was also the first fishing day in D’Urville waters any of us could remember that we never lost a lure or hook. I even had my special ankle lure to use again another day.

As we sped for home we marvelled at the rugged beauty of D’Urville Island basking in the golden glow of the
afternoon sun. As the light softened and the shadows lengthened, the folds and contours of the island titillated the eye like the sensuous curves of a beautiful woman. As we reached the safety of Croisilles Harbour, again named by famed French mariner Dumont D’Urville in the 1820s, the eastern light had turned pink while the western horizon was lit by a flaming orange orb.  Soon it was black, and the adventure ended in darkness as we trailered the boat at Okiwi Bay.

It had been a great day to be alive and a great way to test my metal recycling skills.