Captivated by Corroboree

After releasing another bronzed barramundi, Este put down her fly rod and started counting the ludicrous number of crocodiles loitering around the drain. ‘One, two, three,’ she began, before exclaiming ‘sixteen; no wait, seventeen!’ Moments later, the closest croc launched its hulking frame clear of the water, cradling a barra in its jaws and spooking a dozen more into the air.

Another time, a huge white-breasted sea eagle swooped down from nowhere, intent on stealing a hooked saratoga from Este’s line. Miraculously, the fish avoided the bird’s talons by darting beneath a giant lily pad and lying frozen still. For what seemed like eternity, the eagle hovered menacingly above our heads. Many wild hand gestures later, it lost interest and flew off. When the bird departed, the fish swam out from the lily and came quietly to the net. I could only wonder what the fish was thinking as we released it.

Moments like these make fly fishing the Northern Territory’s Corroboree Billabong a captivating experience. In the treasure chest of NT fly fishing, Corroboree offers something special: easily accessed ‘DIY’ action for saratoga, barra and tarpon, in an extraordinary natural setting, under 90 minutes’ drive from Darwin. All you need is a croc-proof tinny (easily hired), some 7- or 8-weight gear and some basic knowledge of where and how to fish.

Este and I first fly fished Corroboree from a hire tinny a few years ago. We enjoy it so much, we aim to spend a week at Corroboree every dry season. In this article, I’ve gathered the highlights and some lessons we’ve learnt from our trips so far, to tempt you to experience Corroboree’s magic for yourself.

SARATOGA DAWN

When we visit Corroboree, we launch our hire tinny before the first pink rays of dawn and run to one of Corroboree’s endless lily-lined banks. Here, we begin picking the pockets in the lily pads for Northern Saratoga (Scleropages jardinii) using big, weed-proofed surface flies.

This is my favourite part of any day at Corroboree. Not only do the saratoga attack surface flies savagely at dawn, but also, the billabong looks and feels its primeval best. Often, there is not a breath of wind. The glassy water sheens silver, like liquid mercury. Crocodile heads bob silently up and down, while wading birds stalk the edges and the tropical sun rises as a blazing ball of fire.

A typical dawn saratoga encounter goes like this… Scanning ahead, I see an open pocket, hard against the bank, amongst the thicket of lilies. The pocket is no bigger than two square metres, but it’s the largest open pocket in ages, and I think to myself that it must surely hold a fish.

I cast my size #2/0 foam Gurgler fly to the left side of the pocket and execute a sharp ‘bloop’. The response is immediate — a deep, v-shaped bow- wave appears suddenly, charging towards the Gurgler. I resist all temptation to move the fly, leaving it deathly still until a large snout breaks the surface and engulfs it.

The fish responds to my strip-strike by leaping high from the water. Next, it rips line quickly from my hand. Before I realise what is happening, the fly line submits to the terrifying dead weight of lily stalks. But this time I get lucky — as I pull gingerly on the fly line, the fish swims free of the lilies, without dislodging the hook. A tense tug of war later, the saratoga slides into the net. It is a prehistoric looking beast — around 65cm long, with a huge mouth and oversized scales that glow gold, pink and purple in the early morning light.

While we’ve enjoyed plenty of saratoga captures like this at Corroboree, I must admit that we still miss many surface bites. In large part, I attribute this to the hard and bony mouth of the saratoga. In addition, some surface bites are so sudden, it is easy to reflexively pull the fly from the fish’s mouth. To date, the best technique we’ve found is to wait until the fish has closed its jaws and turned its head to swim away, before strip-striking. Keeping the rod pointed straight at the fish is essential i.e. no ‘trout strike’ rod-lifting.

The tens of kilometres of navigable water in Corroboree have more lily-lined banks than you could hope to fish in very many dawns. We’ve also caught saratoga at dawn along undercut grass banks, over flooded grasses and amongst Corroboree’s drowned pandanus palms. Our best fish, between 50 and 70cm, have mostly come from straight and deep sections of bank that feature narrow bands of lily cover. Larger numbers of smaller fish have come from shallow areas with wide lily cover, particularly around the billabong bends.

While still and warm mornings are best, Corroboree’s saratoga can eat surface flies at dawn even when it’s ‘cold’. For example, we recently enjoyed a good surface bite when it was 12°C and the locals were complaining about numbness in their extremities. But the surface bite loses intensity once the sun hits the water. To some extent, this can be mitigated by shifting focus to the lily pockets that remain in shade.

DAYTIME SIGHT FISHING

By 9.00am, the saratoga surface bite has faded, and we’re usually having a smoko. Then if it’s sunny, we’ll go sight fishing. Corroboree has a surprising number of shallow areas well-suited to sight fishing: check out the swampy inlet bays at each end of the main (eastern) billabong and the adjoining (western/boat ramp) billabong, together with the weedy flats on the inside of some billabong bends.

I will never forget the first time we tried sight fishing Corroboree’s shallows. We pulled into a shallow, weedy bay on a perfect blue sky day and began creeping along under electric motor. I had no real expectation of seeing fish — the morning’s surface bite had shut down, and I guessed that Corroboree’s fish would vacate the shallows in the bright and sunny conditions. How wrong I was.

Almost immediately, we saw a cluster of six barramundi tails protruding from a clump of lily pads. The lily cover was so thick, the open pocket for landing the fly was no bigger than a dinner plate. Este’s first cast narrowly missed the target, with her size #1/0 Tarpon Toad fly landing on top of one of the lilies. But when she stripped her fly into the pocket, all hell broke loose, as multiple barra smashed the fly with loud surface boofs.

We soon discovered it is possible to polaroid dozens of barra in Corroboree’s shallows on a calm and sunny winter’s day. Most barra we see are between 35 and 60cm long, so we don’t expect to find trophies. We just enjoy the sheer delight of sight casting to plump chrome footballs on 7-weight gear.

While creeping around Corrobo-ree’s shallows for barra, we also see plenty of nice tarpon, together with some big saratoga. These fish love eating Tarpon Toads too, although the saratoga are easily spooked by the shadow of the fly line. If we spook a big saratoga, we return to the same spot a day or two later, as we sometimes see the same fish in precisely the same location.

The water clarity can vary considerably at Corroboree, limiting the scope for sight fishing at times. For example, during our most recent July 2023 trip, many shallow areas were too dirty for sight fishing. Nonetheless, we found a few swampy bays fed by clear, inflowing soaks. These were perfect for sight fishing. And even in quite cloudy water it was sometimes possible to spot barra tails beneath the lily pads.

FLYING BLIND

Plenty of scope exists for daytime blind fishing when it’s too dirty, windy or cloudy for sight fishing at Corroboree. The adjoining ‘Rockhole’ billabong and nearby Hardies Lagoon also offer good blind fishing for barra.

Hands down, the best blind action we’ve enjoyed has been at the billabong run-off drains. More specifically, Corroboree, the Rockhole and Hardies are part of the massive Mary River floodplain. This dries progressively over winter, flushing huge quantities of baitfish into the main billabongs via a network of drain gutters. Different drains fire at different times, depending on the floodplain water level. To find the firing drains, we cruise the billabong until we see feasting herons, egrets, jabiru storks and crocodiles, or the tell-tale boofs of barra. Large catches of barra and tarpon are possible when blind casting into any drain gutters that are firing.

Water colour changes are another feature to look for in Corroboree. For example, we recently enjoyed crazy action, blind fishing a distinct line where several kilometres of muddy water collided with several kilometres of clearer water. For nearly an hour, big saratoga slammed our flies as we retrieved them across the line between muddy and clear.

In addition to these scenarios, the usual rules for native sweetwater blind fishing apply. Try casting over weed beds, to undercut banks and snags, around any points with current, or search out schools of fish using a depth sounder.

EVER RELIABLE TARPON

If all else fails, Corroboree’s tarpon can almost always be relied upon to bend a rod. We encounter plenty of tarpon by-catch while chasing dawn saratoga, daytime sight fishing and blind fishing the drains. Alternatively, you can selectively target tarpon by cruising the billabong until you find a school of fish that is rolling on the surface. This is a common sight, particularly during calm conditions and around dawn.

CAPTIVATING CORROBOREE

The harsh environment and remoteness of many NT destinations can be intimidating for visitors and newbies wanting to fly fish DIY. Corroboree provides a wonderful exception. It’s a place where even first time visitors can hire a tinny and catch bucket list tropical species, while also experiencing the NT’s mind-blowing wildlife in a primeval setting. For a captivating taste of NT fly fishing, I can’t recommend it highly enough.