ki-ne-sis :a movement that lacks directional orientation and depends upon the intensity of stimulation.....
ki-net-ic: of or relating to motion of material bodies and the forces and energy associated therewith
"Bugger", I mumbled under my breath just as my fly wrapped several times around a low hanging branch. It was a tight spot, the mouth of a small feeder creek that flowed into the main Koolatong system. The gum and wattle trees hung just above the water and Archer fish, Saratoga and Barramundi were laid up here waiting for food. Actually, earlier this particular morning I slipped out of camp while the fishing weary crew slept and had observed some Archers firing their "water canons" at the same overhang. With acuracy of trained snipers they shot off rounds into the brush above. The breathless still of early morning amplified the resulting rain.
Not cats and dogs type noise but a quick sunshower type riff. I am sure however it contained some form of juicy insect proteins as it splashed down. Still these thoughts were not helping my current situation and already my buddy,Brad, was giving me shit! Here I had just blown the perfect shot at a place that had never seen a fly cast into it. A "Giraffe's Arse" cast as my friend, Greg Bethune had refered to another wayward toss on Cape York trip the week previous...It was high and it stunk! We all have the occasional GAC when the pressure is on even more so when casting under brush, mangrove overhangs or into the bite zone. This last effort however seemed to define kinesis as I understood it ,no direction and overpowered for sure. These short accurate presentations required in Barra waters sometimes seem much more testing of fly control skills than letting a 70-80footer fling on the flats.
"Look out" I said to Brad while pointing the my flyrod straight at the snag, firm grip on the flyline and a solid rip backwards. A kinetic conundrum rather than one of kinesis..riddled more with Kreh casting principle,than thought sprung from spoon bending Geller. In this case the after effect involved a mullet pattern tied to a 4/0 hook wizzing past my earhole at around 40 miles a hour. A quick spurt on the electric motor in reverse took the momentum out of the boats forward drift and Brad quips "casting". His fly hitting the water where the leaves stripped from their stems lay floating on the surface. A short pause while the fly sank, a small tweak of the fly,a bronzed gold flash and Brad's on. "SARRA" he smiled purposefully, in a way that's readily understood by those who study kinesics ki-nes-ics(you can look that one up yourself). I retrieved my mistake and casted again into the same area as Brad landed his fish. A few long slow strips , silver flash "BARRAAAAA, Brad" I retorted, adding a devilish grin.
Much of our exploration on this flyfishing foray of the Koolatong played this way. Brad Oakey,Rod M'Crae,our host,guide,pilot and owner of Buffalo Camp,Brenton Hurt and myself traded goodwilled jibes and fishing banter over a period of days. Many "BARRAAAA" and "SARRAAA" calls were spoken ,often over the background squarking noise of a local flying fox colony (large fruit eating bat)and sprinkled ocassionally with the odd "ARCHER" or "SOOTIE"(Sooty Grunter) hoot.
