It all started early Wednesday morning as our crew gathered, all seemingly fit and healthy, for what promised to be a fantastic fishing adventure in the Coral Sea.

Spirits were high, and everyone was buzzing with the excitement of sports fishing from a mothership. Unbeknownst to the rest of the crew, one of the attendees was holding a “gift” that would soon reach everyone on the trip.

The weather forecast looked decent—not outrageously perfect, but with winds expected to drop, which is always better news than a forecast calling for them to pick up. As any seasoned angler knows, when they predict winds easing off, you don’t complain.

This trip had a special twist: the owner of the mothership invited us along to test out the setup and create some marketing material. When a mate offers you an opportunity like that, you grab it! Most of us settled in with cups of tea, chatting about future Coral Sea sports fishing conquests, while the one with the “gift” slept most of the way up—likely saving energy for the surprises ahead.

The Coral Sea didn’t disappoint. While the winds never fully died, they stayed under 10 knots, which is a win in our book. We even debated whether we’d rather roll the dice for completely glassy conditions or stick with the steady 5-10 knots. Having faced far worse, we all opted for consistency.

The Fly Fishing crew, keen on targeting permit, had a tougher time with tides this week, getting only two days where conditions were optimal for sighting these elusive fish. Despite plenty of stingray activity, there weren’t many permit riding on the rays. On day one, Kim encountered an impressive permit up to an estimated 95 cm. But, as often happens in fly fishing, it was the smallest in the group that took the fly.

The week offered some insane, heart-pounding moments that most sports fishing shows could only dream of. Along one of the deeper reef edges, we found bait holding at pressure points, with Yellowtail Fusiliers clustering around the structure. Interestingly, they ranged in size, with more small ones than we’d typically see. Among the many GTs we landed, we managed some solid catches, with the largest around 20-25 kg. But then came the opportunity of a lifetime.

Out of nowhere, a fish—easily twice as big as any GT we’d seen so far—rose through the current line. It put its massive shoulders out of the water and smashed the popper, and all I could do was hold my breath. Catching a GT of that size isn’t just skill; it’s 99.9% pure luck. And if Lady Luck happens to be on your side, you might just stand a chance. But this time, the monster GT had other plans. After inhaling the popper, it stormed straight for the bow. In seconds, what would’ve been the fish of a lifetime was gone. Watching a fish like that come up, hit the popper, and feel the thrill of it on the line—well, it’s enough to make any angler’s heart race. Needless to say, my mate blamed the skipper, and I blamed my mate!

There were plenty of moments like that where the real monsters had luck on their side. Steve, the mothership’s skipper, has one of the deepest wells of knowledge I’ve encountered when it comes to the East Coast of the Cape. His expertise made every moment on the water feel like an opportunity for something incredible.

And, as always, the food on board was phenomenal. The crew kept us fueled and ready to go with meals that were as memorable as the fishing. Look at the photos to see what the “gift” was from our sleeping beauty.