Soundless nights spent fishing on an estuary are magical times. Quietly finding my position, as darkness floats across the water, fills me with calm and expectation of what the night might hold. I know that I’m an intruder but yet I can tap into the river’s timeless existence and the surety of its tide. It’s a time that I wouldn’t trade for all the riches of a high-pressured existence.
The setting sun and rising stars flip an undeniable ecological switch and estuaries come to life in the dark. Predators leave the deep water and/or snaggy lairs in which they shelter during the day, moving out to hunt. They move into places that can be devoid of fish during the day, heading into very shallow water. Bridges with overhanging lighting attract baitfish and some pretty big target species can be spotted cruising just under the surface.
Baitfish, prawns and other crustaceans become more mobile at night as well, with larger numbers coming to the surface, perhaps because most aquatic birds are not out hunting in great numbers (pelicans still do) and because there’s less human noise. Shallow flats, edges and structure that may be relatively devoid of target species during the day can become prime fishing locations at night.
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