Learning how to reel 'em in

FEW of us have tried fishing before. But the portents are for a good day, apart from the fact that passengers on the fishing charter boat Jillian number an unlucky 13.

The shallow water beneath the long Rosebud Jetty is crystal clear and we watch a banjo shark drifting lazily across the sandy bottom, then a cormorant swimming underwater with intent towards a school of tiny fish. The kids are enthralled.

Skipper Craig Watson and his offsider Jon Dart are cutting strong-smelling bait into bite-sized pieces as we board the 9.7 metre vessel.

Lachlan, who's 10, gets straight to the point. ''I've never caught a fish before,'' he says. ''Me neither,'' adds Hannah, 8.

It won't be long before their drought breaks, opposite the spindly, silverly McCrae Lighthouse out by the main shipping channel.

There, Watson and Dart bait our lines and off we go. Well, not quite.

Two young men from Gippsland are doing alright at the stern, but six teenagers on school camp, the two adults in charge and the kids and myself are in a bit of bother. There's the clashing of rods, tangling of lines and hooking of clothing. But - suddenly and simultaneously - we get the hang of it.

Lachlan breaks his fishing duck early - a nice flathead well over the legal minimum size of 27 centimetres. I can't let the lad off with this, I think. So I concentrate. When I think I feel a nibble, I whip the rod upwards to ensure the fish is well hooked and reel it in. Yes! It's bigger than Lachlan's!

Everyone on board seems to be trying to outdo everyone else, with lots of ''wows'' and high fives.

But there's another thing about boats and fishing. The weather. The wind springs up and the sky darkens. The sea comes to life. Lumps of water are slapping the side of the boat and it begins to rain. It's not so much fun now.