My hands are shaking. That's not a line I get to write very often, but by the end of this session it was the truth. On today's episode I'm launching the tinny in the river to throw some soft plastics around — chasing a mixed bag of species along rock walls, drop-offs and sand flats. Flathead, bream, maybe a mulloway, maybe a little trevally or tailor. We're in the estuary, so it's open season on all of them.
That was the plan, anyway. What actually happened was a slow morning, a couple of nice fish, a lot of problem solving — and then, in a quiet little bay in the middle of the day, the biggest flathead I have ever hooked in my life. This is massive, this is huge — I said that about fourteen times on camera, and I stand by every one of them. An 87.5cm dusky flathead, a giant breeding female, netted, measured, photographed and released to go make more flathead.
So let's break the whole day down: the lures, the new jig heads I was testing, where I fished on the tide, and (most importantly) how to take care of a fish of a lifetime when you finally meet her.
Quick Links
The Location: Rock Walls, Drop-Offs and Sand Flats
The beauty of an estuary soft plastics session is that you're never locked into one spot or one species. My day moved through three distinct zones, and each one fished differently.
Zone one was the main rock wall on the last of the run-out tide. I used the side scan on the sounder to cruise along the wall and look for fish before committing casts. That produced the early flathead — because you can't throw lures around an estuary and not expect to catch a flathead. They're the great everywhere-fish of Australian estuaries.
Zone two was the end of the break wall in the middle of the day. The tide had turned and was pushing in, hitting a sand bank out the back and washing over the rocks. Washy, turbulent, oxygenated water — classic bream country. My theory: with the sun high, the flathead and mulloway would get harder, but bream would happily sit under that wash eating anything that gets knocked off the rocks.
Zone three was back upriver, where shallow mud flats meet the rock wall. By now the run-in tide was slowing, it was pretty much a glass-off, and I just drifted with the tide, covering ground and peppering casts. That's where the day changed.
The common thread in all three: edges. Rock meeting sand. Shallow meeting deep. Wash meeting calm. Predators in an estuary live on the edges, so that's where your plastic needs to be.
The Tackle: Two Outfits Cover Everything
I ran two spin outfits, and between them they covered every scenario the estuary threw at me.
The heavier outfit did the flathead-and-mulloway work — throwing 4 to 6 inch plastics on jig heads up to a half ounce. Nothing extreme, just a standard estuary spinning rod and reel combo with enough backbone to set a hook and steer a good fish away from rocks.
The lighter outfit was one of the Seacore 2–8lb rods, and it earned its keep at the break wall. When the target shifted to bream in the wash, I dropped right down: light line, much smaller plastics, and a rod soft enough to detect a bream mouthing a wafting lure in turbulent water. If I'd tried to fish the heavy gear in that scenario, I'd have caught nothing.
That's the honest answer to "what rod do I need for soft plastics?" — ideally, two. One for the big paddle tails, one for finesse. If you can only have one, go somewhere in the middle, but know that both ends of the day involved a compromise.
The Lures: Have Options, Because the Fish Decide
You don't just take one lure when you do this style of fishing — you take a range of options, and if something's not working, you switch. I was changing things up every 15 or 20 minutes until the fish told me what they wanted. Here's what was in the tray, and the thinking behind each profile.
Paddle tail and minnow profiles in a range of sizes — four, five and six inch. This was the winner on the day. A paddle tail thumps along near the bottom and imitates the poddy mullet and baitfish that every big estuary predator eats. The size range matters more than people think: same profile, three sizes, and some days they'll only eat one of them.
Prawn and shrimp imitations. I reckon every fish in the estuary eats a prawn, and they're especially good in systems like this around the new moon when the prawns are running. If I'm ever stuck, a prawn profile hopped along the bottom is my confidence reset button.
Squid-style imitations. On the run-in tide with clear water pushing in, I had a theory that squid would come in with it — so a little squid-looking jerk bait profile got its swim too. Did I prove that theory today? Not conclusively. But that's why you carry options: every session is a chance to test something.
The lure that did the damage on the small flathead, the bream, and the monster was the Nomad LiveOps paddle tail. That little thing had a day out.
The Jig Heads: Why I've Been Throwing the BKK Hyperlatch
I've been testing the new BKK Hyperlatch jig heads this session, and they deserve their own section, because on the shelf they look like any other jig head and they're not.
Take one out of the packet and compare it to a traditional jig head, and you'll see the difference straight away. On a traditional jig head, the hook point does a smooth curl around, and the shank — the straight section that actually goes into the fish's mouth is maybe a centimetre long. On the Hyperlatch, the hook is nearly straight before curving sharply back in, and that shank section is double or triple the length of a traditional head.
The theory behind it: the long shank and sharp angle mean the point penetrates deep and then latches around into the corner of the jaw. Once it's in, it's in. Now, I know theories are great, but here's my field report: every single fish I hooked today, the small flathead, the bream, and an 87.5cm giant was pinned perfectly in the corner of the jaw, and not one fish got off. The small flathead ate a plastic nearly as big as itself and was still hooked in exactly the right spot on a 3/0, half-ounce head.
The other reason I like them for estuary work: strength. Whenever I fish a rock wall, there's a chance (it might take me a hundred years) that I hook a 20 or 30 kilo mulloway while I'm flicking for flathead. I want a lightly-weighted head that still has a hook that won't bend when that day comes. These are super strong.
One more nice touch: the weight and hook size are printed clearly on the face of the jig head. The ounces system is confusing enough (a half ounce, three-eighths, one-eighth — I think we should blow that system up entirely, but it's staying), so at least you don't have to squint at tiny packet print to know what you're tying on.
The Theories That Shaped the Day
Weight to the conditions, not habit. I had to go up to a half-ounce head early to get down in the current along the rock wall. When I moved to the calm flats, I dropped back to three-eighths. If you're not touching bottom occasionally, you're not fishing — you're trolling the surface.
Wash means bream. That washy corner where the tide broke over the rocks was a bream buffet. I barely had to work the lure, the waves did it for me. Cast in, let the plastic waft and sink, watch for the tick in the line, set the hook. There's a bream on every rock wall in New South Wales; you've just got to put a lure in front of their face.
Middle of the day isn't dead — it's different. Everyone loves dawn and dusk, but I hooked the biggest flathead of my life at midday in a quiet bay. Big flathead are ambush feeders lying on the bottom; if your plastic lands near one, the time on your watch is irrelevant.
Problem solving is the skill. If something doesn't work, try something else. Different zone, different lure, different weight, different retrieve. That's not a backup plan... that IS the plan.
The Big Girl: Hooking and Handling an 87.5cm Flathead
The eat itself was almost comical. I was casting the LiveOps along the edge, saw some bait on the sounder, and this thing just sluggishly jumped on it — I honestly thought I'd hit a snag, then the snag took off.
When you hook a genuinely big fish, that's when people lose them: you get excited, you rush, you pull too hard near the boat. I backed the drag off, took the fight away from the rocks, kept telling myself to relax (out loud, repeatedly, on camera) and let the rod do the work. And then there she was — a truly massive dusky flathead.
Here's the part I really want you to take away, because it matters more than the catch. A flathead that size is a big breeding female, she is the future of the fishery, so the goal from the moment you see her is to get her back in the water in perfect condition.
Keep the fish in the water while you get organised. I have a massive net (comically oversized for estuary fishing) and this is exactly why I bought it from BCF. A fish this size stays in the net, in the water, beside the boat while I clear the deck and get everything ready. She recovers; I prepare.
Support the weight with two hands. This is the big lesson, particularly for the young kids out there. One hand at the head, and the second hand under the body holding the weight of the fish. If we hold a big fish vertically off one grip, we can displace its guts and organs. Two hands, always horizontal.
Wet the brag mat. Brag mats heat up in the sun, and a hot mat strips the protective slime off the fish. Splash it down before the fish touches it. She went 87.5cm on the mat — just touching 88, but I'm not a fan of pushing a fish to a number. One day I'll catch an 88 fair and square.
Be quick, then get her swimming. Measure, a couple of photos, then back in the net for another drink before release. Fingers out of the mouth, hold her steady in the water, and let her kick out of your hands in her own time. She swam off strong. That same handling principle applies to big barramundi, Murray cod, mulloway — anything with real weight.
Oh, and I forgot my fish handling glove in the car, so my thumb protection was a rod wrap from BCF. Typical me. Improvise, but protect your hands. Flathead have raspy teeth and sharp gill spikes, and as I found out with the small one earlier: don't put your fingers in a flathead's mouth if you don't want to get bitten.
Tips and Tricks
Use side scan to fish smarter. Scanning the wall before casting tells you whether anyone's home. No marks after a good look? Keep moving.
Let the water work light plastics. In wash, don't over-work the lure. Cast, sink, watch the line. The tick is the bite.
Match the hatch on the moon. Prawn imitations around the new moon, baitfish profiles when the mullet are thick, squid profiles on clear run-in tides.
Carry a net that's too big. You don't buy the big net for the fish you usually catch — you buy it for the one you've been waiting your whole life for.
Persist. I struggled at the start of this session. A bream and a small flathead by midday is a slow day — and then one cast changed everything. That's why you keep putting casts in.