Lae Game Fishing Club - Ol Liklik Sori - Tya Tya the Irrepressible

TYA TYA THE IRREPRESSIBLE

By The Teller of Truths

Uncle Lester is about to lay it on you - when Tya Tya is hooked and dragged screaming to boat-side, you've come to the only other thing in life that's as sure as Death and Taxes, and that is that you're booked up for one helluva boat-side punch-up. As if the previous minutes of pulling up a jack-hammer in full throb from 70 fathoms down hadn't already forewarned you of this prospect.

Tya Tya, that gold and silver plated marine serpent, taxonomically known as Muraenesox cinereus, or more generally as the Arabian Pike Eel, is a spectacular member of the Conger family, though to the locals of the Hood Bay area Tya Tya is the real name.

Rasslin' Pike Eels ain't no After-Breakfast-Sport for beginners, leastwise not in small boats where there's no place for either party to go to except into each others' grip. These babies are fast, powerful, slipperier than 'ell, and more trouble than a barrel fulla' monkeys.

They got muscles on muscles. They're orneryer than two clucky hens settin' on one basket of eggs; and we won't even begin to talk on the size of their bite. They got teeth growin' offa teeth; and a bulldog don't know what hangin' on means. Y’ gotta have a thick head or a thick hide to go after Pike Eels, and it helps to have both. And there’s nuthin’ much tastier than a smoked Pike Eel, that’s why we go after them.

The Skull of the Critter

What that jargon says in short, is that all Pike Eels are pugnacious, ferocious, well armed, and delicious.

In ‘The Fishes of New Guinea’, I.S.R. Munro's summary is - "Elongate and robust. Naked. Pectorals well developed. Gill-openings wide. Snout long and produced forward into a flat round tip. Eye large. Teeth large, powerful and knife-like. Front teeth fang-like. Dangerous to handle. Flesh excellent. Occurs in coastal waters and estuaries."

And from the author of ‘Guide to Fishes’, the following, --- "It has been truly said that the dinghy has not yet been built large enough to hold a fisherman and a Pike Eel together; an active and pugnacious marine eel growing to five feet. A boated specimen displays incredible energy and agility as it lunges purposefully about the boat in search of freedom, tangling coils of line and biting indiscriminately at bags, haversacks and legs. In years past the boat-hire proprietors in South Queensland provided as a matter of course each hirer with a "priest", a short heavy length of hardwood used for clubbing Pike Eels as their heads were cautiously brought to the gunwale.

In colour the Pike Eel is bright silvery with broad black margins to the fins. Younger specimens may have a distinctly golden-yellow tinge to the body. Found in muddy estuaries, and only rarely venturing to the open sea. Few anglers appear to recover from the excitement of catching a large Pike Eel to the extent of attempting to eat it."

An old-timer from Queensland once said to me, "Oh yes, if one of them gets loose in a boat down our way, everyone goes over the side as a matter of course, and we try to deal with it from there."

Having had many encounters with these creatures from a small dinghy. I have no doubt whatsoever that this can be considered an astute practice.

This one from Bupu Bay is probably a true lapun (old). It was thin and nearly toothless, nevertheless lively.

Sizes

My diaries say we've caught 98 of them in all sizes ranging from 2'-6" to 6'-6" --- that is, from 3 lb to 22 lbs weight. Conversions = 76 cm to 200 cm length and 1.4 kg to 10 kg, though 4 to 7kg is about your average Nasty, while the 6 footers are the real Godzillas.

What he eats

Stomach contents disclose that when a meal is won, it is generally a small to medium sized fish or eel. It hunts the lower levels in a free-swimming state. It roams freely and does not hug the bottom structures and crevices in the way that most marine eels do.

Eye to Eye with a Youngster

What eats him?

We have skull-dragged (there's no other way) infrequent specimens that bore major lacerations, even to the extent of one fellow having lost a foot of it's tail in seasons past. Occasionally one suffers gaping wounds while being fought up. Big 'Cuda, mackerel or whalers were probably involved. We only ever lost one to a big critter in the big haul up from where they are usually hooked, 60 to 80 fathoms down. That was after an unstoppable pull against my 100-pound hand line suddenly latched onto the eel half ways up. Seeing as I have hooked 130kg+ Bignose Whalers on chunks of Pike Eel bait, you don't have to be a trained ….ologist of any sort to figure out who may have taken it away from me. They both share the same water.

Unencumbered by a hook hauling at it's mouth, I expect that the Pike Eel gives as good as it gets most times, and is well able to fend for it's own interests.

What is he like to eat?

Well Sirs and Siresses, absolutely Drop Dead Delicious! Just about any way you care to prepare him. In the raw the flesh is a clean translucent white, with a fine grain, and contains little to no oil. A series of long thin Y bones along each side means that it is necessary to prepare fillets rather than cutlets. Making chops of him only guarantees that every Y bone gets lopped into about 3 or 4 short bits. We don’t have to put up with that.

It’s easy to strip these long bones out of cooked or smoked fillets, and they are far too long for any diner to accidentally swallow.

Smoked Eel? You bet! Soak the fillets over night in heavy brine. Well done in hot smoke, it is out of this world. You don't have to be a King to eat like one. There are various specifics that may be employed, various marinades, various sauces that can be prepared to dip the pieces in when dining as a King. The average Kiwi from rural areas will know all about that. During certain times of the year in days of yore, the Maori's used to practically live on eel, albeit the fresh-water variety.

So you want to catch your first Pike Eel? Don't just rush out without insurance to catch your first or your second one, nor would I my 99th one. Fair enough, life would be pretty dull without the odd risk, but even motorcycle racers brake before a corner. Best take a step back and have a cold shower - and read on first. If you're unlike everyone else in this beautiful country of PNG, you might learn something from history. No matter even if it's only a drab old bit of Eel Hunting from the decks of a little old wooden dinghy that has been known to grapple with unnamed shadowy beasts that frequent the lower levels under big river mouths in quest of things to devour.

How so, to catch him?

Well, when Pike Eeling, one does learn from ones' mistakes. Unless one is a macho-sadist who wishes to have a hide too pitted and scarred to be worth nailing up on the shed wall after one passes along in the end.

As you will see if you are successful, there are rows of big teeth and there are rows of little teeth, and the rest of them are in-between teeth, and all of them are sharp and fast. The bundles of front teeth are like nails, and the rows of inner teeth are cutters like 'cuda teeth. Thirteen rows in all. Yep! He's got a nasty front end, but it ain't nuthin' compared to his temper. His disposition runs between peevish and FURY, and set on a hair-trigger.

A teased cobra don't know what "Disagreeable" means!

Bill Eckermann with a Youngster at Bupu River

Early Encounters with this Enigmatic Combatant

Well, our first certainly set the pace for new experiences. I don’t recall many "encounters" with these belligerent denizens of the deep that could not be better described as a major confrontation, a brawl, a conflict, a melee, an ordeal, a battle, and always a hazardous adventure. Once loose inside a boat they can make everything happen at once --- like about 15 major events in 5 seconds. The following "encounters" are cited verbatim from the old chronicles of my little wooden dinghy, Salt Shaker.

19th October 1985 John hooked our first Pike Eel at 70 fathoms in front of the Busu River. Following a prolonged and ferocious clash beside the dinghy, I got 2 gaffs through its' neck and hauled it in --- a serious mistake indeed. Never ever again! The moment its' tail brushed the gunwale it sprung up and leapt clear off the gaffs and did a circuit inside the boat in about 3 seconds flat, snapping left, right, and centre, and everywhere else too.

It went up Johns' side and passed him with a crunch of teeth on a tackle box leaving an unmistakable signature as John scrambled his legs out of the way. Next moment it broadsides like a runaway roller coaster on tracks around in front of Renki who is now sitting in the rope-tub with his heels somewhere up behind his ears. It’ left a few fang-tips in the thwart post on the way. Then it shot down the other side past me Snap Snap. Through about 400 ft of hand line on the deck, and under the thwart I'd leapt onto. It was up the transom and going overboard at 30 knots when John hauled back on the line and turned its' head around.

As it came back I scored a couple of wild thumps with 3 pounds of kwila waddy to its' head, almost putting a hole through the hull of the boat. This did little to give it the Zeds.

Next up it got cornered between the esky & a box for a moment whence I leapt upon it with a double-fisted gill grip. Seen in the 20/20 vision of hindsight, this was worse than tap-dancing through a minefield. It thrashed around, sliming me from face to stern, threatening to break loose before I gained an opportunity to knife it through the neck.

"Bloody 'ell !!" Is this heavy traffic or what! Lost my specs somewhere in that lot. Five and a half kilos, strong as a python, slippery as Ali Baba, teeth galore, and faster than a speeding bullet. Pike Eels come aboard in only two sizes, cranky and crankier. This one was the smaller size, fortunately.

Unlike most toothy critters, this fish doesn't waste time gnashing around in random fashion. Oh No! This Pike fellow, he's a smart one. He sees, he takes deliberate aim, and he lunges with the speed and accuracy of a cobra, but with a lot more power; he's meaner than a four-headed rattlesnake. No other finned fish I have ever seen does this. Yes, get a foot in the way of a boated shark or mackerel thrashing about on the deck and you can get lose a digit or worse, but they never actually go after you, strike and snap when they reach the target.”

27th June 1987 By this time I thought that I had learned most of the tricks of a hooked Eel. We had long since watched in stunned in amazement when one that had been battered limp and senseless, leapt out of the esky the moment it was slid off the gaffs. It cleared the gunwale in one ballet-like leap, landed in the water 6 ft away, and took off along the surface like an out-of-control Panzer tank in your sweat-pea patch.

"Don't get in my way. I'm a bit dizzy perhaps, but I'm gettin' my bearings back and nuthin's stoppin' me now."

We fitted a special hardwood block to the underside of the gunwale. We pin the eels there with 2 gaffs pulled through their neck and driven into the wood. They chew that, they'll turn and chaw the gaff handle if you don't get it in very close behind the head, and sometimes they'll even strike at the gaff before you snick it into them.

One mo they are lashing furiously at the end of your tackle, the next they turn and strike the gaff if it’s held near.

It's fine to belt them limp with the waddy, but you Never, Never, haul one inboard until it's spinal column has been completely severed behind the head.

As I say, by this time we knew ALL about supervising Pike Eels on string from small boats. Or did we…?

Back to the diary

"Markham River, 74 fathoms" When fishing murky water you have to bring part of the fish out of the water to see which end is where, in fact to confirm just what it may be on occasion. I did this as usual. It's another PE, but only about 4+ foot long.

I'd hardly lifted his head out of the water for the quick squiz, and next thing "AAGGHHH!! HOLY COW!" I barely saw the rooster move, but he's definitely there, up over the gun'l, into the boat and fastened just below my knee. He's through jeans, skin and sinews, and locked onto the bone with a move that would have embarrassed the reflexes of the Phantom himself. Two foot of him is in across the boat-side fused to my precious leg, and the other 2 1/2 foot is hanging out over the side with the tail gently eeling back and forth in the water. Is this fun or what!

For a minute we all remain riveted and unmoving, and the eel just hangs on like a happy bulldog with a Birthday bone. I'm not game to move that leg for fear of annoying the bugger any more in case he begins to lash back and forth tearing sinews and things. Surely he's going to relax that grip and make with the escape act at any tick of the clock! But that doesn't happen.

After a minute of this, discreetly balancing back and forth on one sound leg, I'm beginning to feel a bit gravid about the whole issue. I'd like to go back to square one and start all over again to try something else for ‘fun’, like hooking a wild cat by the balls, or maybe even doing a 5-year study of tortoise ticks in the Galapagos Islands or something. Anything but THIS. Anyway, how can we get the bugger back out of the kitchen?

At least he didn't hit 18 inches higher, I suppose that's a consolation. But I didn't think of it at the time, or I may have felt more philosophical.

Meanwhile, down at the interface between Man and Beast, Elaine passes me a knife, urging "Cut his neck, cut his head off, quick!" Smart thinking, but I give her 2 out of 10 for that one. No way am I going to tickle him up any further by scratching circles around his throat. Those nail-like fangs are set in bone and two have already splintered.

How long is a minute? Ask anyone who has had a truck parked on his foot how long a minute is. After 3 eternal minutes have inexorably ground by I finally depart this ill-favoured guest by gently sliding a wide knife between his jaws and twisting them partway open until most of the pressure comes off. Judicious use of pliers to pull his bottom jaw away, and I was free. The moment we got him detached from the leg he wrenched back into the water and took yards of line.

For a change it was the anglers' juice puddling the deck boards. There seemed to be more blood on the deck than in the last scene of Macbeth!

Anyhow by now it's my turn to get cross! I raised an eyebrow. He wasn't getting away as easily as that! For a while I was busier than a Raskol at your bar-fridge getting him back up and properly gaffed and done for, while balancing around on one leg and deploring the ache in the other. Got him into the esky, with a totally flat head, "You're headed for the Smoker, Bobo!"-- and then sat down to do an environmental impact study.

There were no wide slashes, fortunately. Just two clusters of holes either side of a boiled egg sitting atop a bloodied shin-bone, such as one might sustain while fielding Silly-Mid-On when Harry The Hitter is in full cry and goes for a Six, and misses the Member's Stand because I'm in the bloody way.

He only went 8 lb, and I was a happy little burgher that he hadn't been a gruff old 20 pounder or something. Any encounter with a Pike Eel that you can limp away from isn't too bad, I guess."

How big do these things get?

The Diary "1^st August 1987" We are over 75 fathoms, Markham R. There's a lot of slack building up in the 100-pound hand line. I whip up a dozen feet of mono and smack him with a hook. Some smoker, this one! A real sunnavagun Formulae 1 Pike takes off like a scalded 50-ton dump truck on a short cut for the core of the planet. It's a run that'd take the kinks out of a wire rope. 450 ft of heavy line becomes 500 ft in full stretch for a while. Then he changes tack, surging around into one run after the other like a 40-knot Destroyer looking for a way out of the reefs of Bootless Bay before a Scud arrives over the horizon. The line is fairly humming as it clicks across the wear-grooves in the gun’l. After some minutes he comes around and the sign "Men At Work" goes up and we begin to steadily lay line on the deck. To cut a long job short, a lot of heavy skull-dragging and sizzling throbbing runs matures to the boat-side punch-up phase.

I get a grip of the leader and PULLLLLLLLLL….. Stiffen The Crows!! Materialising out of the gloom of muddy waters is the widest gape of jaws and teeth we've ever clapped optics on outside of Crocdom. With a couple of shoulder-jerking swings and a boil of froth and spray it boils back down out of sight.

"Boyo! Stand by for some serious litigation. Parking this fish will be no lay down misere.

Fought him back up to the top and he spins and whiplashes in fast S's like a snake backing off, sparing no effort to break loose while keeping us at bay. The Pike Eel cannot stitch itself into figure 8 pretzel knots like regular eels do when they 'knit-one-pearl-one' on their way up your line until they're at your hand. Thank Heavens for that.

After some fishing around in the flying water I manage to set a gaff solidly through his massive neck. This doesn't stop him ruining his lovely fang points on the handle as he throws his head back at it. Next up he clamps onto the gunwale with a noisy splintering of fangs.

I pry him off and try to turn him for a good whack with the club but he upends himself in a wildly thrashing double-twist and is off the gaff and driving down into the bosom of the deep once again.

The hook holds and we work him back up. This time both gaffs bite and we get it locked up against the rollick pin and quickly deliver some accurate shots from the Diwai Donger. He is still curling and turning on himself, wrapping the wire leader around his throat, so we go right through the neck and spine with the knife. In so doing, we realise that this final act is the only sure way of preparing a Pike Eel fit to be invited aboard among mere humans. In the end this one pulled the Salters down to 9.6 kg, the numero uno of five we decked that morning."

They are not exactly your Norm and Edna Average From Moonee Ponds type of fish. They're all sliced from the same fillet. You wouldn't trust one as far as you could kick a hog after feeding time.

This fella splintered half his front fangs on the gunwale

Some people jump from airplanes, and some people go to war.

I don't mind a bit of ‘pike-eeling’ on occasion. That's my long suit nowadays.

You see - I walk on the wild side.

Lester Rohrlach

All pics by L. Rohrlach