The harshly beautiful Great Lake was an important water to both Michael and Peter.
Flyfishers, and trout anglers in general from all over Australia, will be saddened to hear of the recent passing of Michael Youl, and also of a very close farmer friend and retired politician, Peter Nixon. Michael was 96 years of age and Peter, 97. I fished with both a number of times and I guess in penning these notes one could say they both played a long and very interesting innings, contributing much to Australian life. Peter joined Michael as his guest annually for a few days flyfishing, mainly from Michael’s boat on the Great Lake and sometimes out in the Western Lakes and elsewhere as well. ‘Mick and Nicko’ enjoyed each other’s company, and I often joined them for dinner at night, sometimes at Michael’s shack, or sometimes at mine or others. Memorable nights with two old and interesting characters.
I remember one evening particularly well, Peter regaling us with stories of political life in Canberra. He commented on the similarities of the television show produced in England called 'Yes Minister', depicting the way the bureaucratic underlings push ministers into different avenues of going forward. It was a very funny night. (Today, a satirical Australian show in a similar vein, Utopia, is well worth watching, and happens to be headed up by another flyfisher Rob Sitch… but as usual I’m starting to digress!)
One night, Peter commented that during Malcolm Fraser’s time as Prime Minister, there was a sort of coterie of he, Tony Street, Doug Anthony, and one or two others, who, all being blokes with heaps of common sense, were members of an 'inner sanctum'. Fraser trusted them and took their advice seriously, at a time when some other ministers and politicians were often just passing on advice from lobbyists and vested interests.
Back to Michael, and he was the great grandson of Sir James Youl who was instrumental in bringing trout to Australia way back in 1864. Many of his friends affectionately called Michael the grandfather of trout in Australia. I believe all the brown trout in the Southern Hemisphere came from that historical arrival of ova, packed in moss and 90 tons of ice in a sailing ship. Then came the remarkable acclimatisation of them at the Plenty trout ponds near New Norfolk, about an hour west of Hobart. Still today, the ponds at Plenty play an important role in the stocking of trout and are also a well-known tourist destination today. Well worth a visit, where youngsters and a few older diehards too are able buy a few pellets and feed the trout. When I last visited, I was interested to see albino and tiger trout in the ponds as well.
Michael (right) enjoying a chat with yours truly. (pic. courtesy of Peter Hayes)
Michael was an interesting bloke. Apart from being an outstanding flyfisher he was also, like many of the Youl family, a serious farmer along the South Esk River in the midlands of Tasmania, with trout on his doorstep. He continuously made commentary on the management of the trout fishery in Tasmania and even into his last year of life, was still passionate about the habitat management thereof and the value to all recreational anglers, of wild trout.
Michael’s other passion was cricket, and his grandson George Bailey is today a senior selector for the Australian Test team, following years playing cricket for Australia and captaining Tasmania. Michael was known to sometimes put aside his flyfishing to watch George in his playing days.
Peter Nixon also came from a well-known farming family in the Orbost area in East Gippsland. He led the Country Party that turned into the current National Party during his many years as a politician serving in many ministries. He was subsequently on the board of a large hardware chain called Dahlsens, and was a past President of the Richmond football club.
Peter’s uncle Jack was a serious game fisher and held the record for the largest marlin taken in Australia, until the Cairns fishery opened up in north Queensland. But the NSW record for the largest marlin I think he holds to this very day. It was a 788 pound monster. There are many photos of it in magazines and books on game fishing.
One of the more memorable days with Michael and Peter for this writer, was a beautiful cobalt blue sky day on Great Lake, and the beetle-feeding trout were up everywhere. With both in their 80s at the time, they were having trouble seeing the ‘sharks’ as we call them. They came over and asked how we were going. We were having a red-letter day and were well into double figures. The ‘oldies’ were struggling, and my partner for the day was my solicitor, down from Melbourne for a few days. On Michael’s suggestion, we swapped anglers and Peter joined me for the last few hours. It wasn’t long before Peter had caught a couple, and then it came time to go and join Michael for cocktails back at his shack. I suggested we be late as the polaroiding light was still good, and we might snare a couple more trout. However, did we have the courage to be on the end of Michael’s ire if we should be late? "Of course", he replied, "I’ve got a pretty thick skin and this is one of my best fishing days ever."
Peter Nixon.
We arrived back to Michael’s and received the expected tirade: “You’re late, where have you bloody well been?” Then Peter retrieved four superb trout from the back of my Suzuki. Michael’s stern face quickly transformed into a big grin.
This writer was fortunate enough to join Michael at a lunch in January just past at his old shack in Miena. He did comment he was coming to the end of his fishing days, but he still hoped for a day with well-known trout guide, Peter Hayes at Talbot’s Lagoon or Lake Fergus before he put his rod back in the case for the last time. At that lunch, he was totally ‘on the ball’ and regaled us with a few stories from days long gone. Looking back, all of us who were there would have felt privileged to have joined him on that memorable Sunday, only a few months ago. Little did we know how important that lunch would prove to be. For most of us, it would turn out to be the last time.
Not many are left who remember the Shannon Rise, the old hotel near the Great Lake wall, the dances at the Steppes Hall, and the many older anglers who passed long ago. It was Michael who knew the Senator after which Senator’s Rock is named at Little Pine Lagoon. It was Michael who remembered the history of the cricket pitch at the northern end of the lagoon as well.
Michael loved telling tales of his exploits. I remember staying out at the Antarctic Division’s Bernacchi Lodge near Lake Augusta with Prime Minister Fraser. At breakfast, the morning papers were delivered and Michael exclaimed there was a simple million dollars to be made if he put an immediate stop to the Gordon below Franklin Dam proposal. Dick Smith had made the offer in the press. Much fun was had over breakfast as Michael teased the PM with a range of possible outcomes.
Many will look back with great affection at a couple of old anglers who have sadly gone on ahead. I have a view that when one gets to 75, one realises that one is playing in the last quarter, and at 85, in ‘time on’, to use football parlance. As time marches on, this old writer realises how precious each angling day has become, and hopes he gets to 85 with rod in hand – albeit with some of his previously wonderful vision diminished.
We, who are left behind are wealthier in our own lives of having known and fished with these two wonderful blokes and enjoyed their company. We were indeed fortunate.
