The sun was fast setting over the towering concrete jungle of lights and colours that we call Melbourne. However, as the yellow ball was sinking, Mark Bolger and I were just arriving, literally in the shadows of the Colonial Stadium for a go at some of the very nasty resident Docklands Black Bream.

I had never seriously given soft plastics a go in the Docks, but Mark had taken a whole arsenal of garishly coloured, chewy looking plastic oddities of all shapes and sizes, and a range of jig heads to match, so I decided to at least give it a go. Normally, I fish hard-bodies, a favourite of mine being the pink/mauve Attack Minnow, a couple of which I have lost in action to unseen brutes which liked to wind my line around anything they possibly can, normally at frightening speeds.

I quickly climbed under the docks while Mark had a shot at some mean looking bream around the keel of a large boat. I dropped the lure of choice, an Atomic Fat Grub in white/red/silver deep amongst the pylons to a couple of feeding bream I could see. I kept trying for these fish and other, much larger ones cruising past in small schools. Eventually, a Bream showed some traces of interest and sat staring at the vivid lure as it kept bobbing up and down in front of his nose. I was sitting staring at this fish, as another unseen bream inhaled the lure deep down out of sight with a sudden bend of the rod. Surprised, I set the hooks and battled this medium Bream out into the open and excitedly called to Mark to give me a hand as I climbed up into the open, taking the silvery fish with me.

I had just landed my first Docklands bream on a soft plastic. The now almost ritualistic act of taking pictures of the bream took place in the rapidly fading light on the empty dock. The bream was swiftly slid into the water, and we continued fishing after this minor interruption. Mark saw a shadow dart out at his grub and he was soon holding another medium sized Docklands Black Bream. Another photo shoot and this little battler was released to fight again.

By this time, it was well and truly dark, so we decided to have a go under the Bolte Bridge lights, but the wind proved too nasty, so we voted to leave for the night.
Rays of golden sunlight pierced the sky as the next day was just beginning. I felt like piking on this trip, but there were Bream to catch! Soon enough we were off to the docks again, dodging peak hour traffic the whole way.

Upon arrival, Mark and I spotted another soft plastic fanatic spinning for Bream. He introduced himself as Chris, and he pointed in the direction of a section of private jetty across the water, just out of casting range. Several big black shadows were right in under this jetty picking away at the pylons, with several smaller shadows mixed in to make life more interesting. I could not cast that far with an unweighted grub, so I reasoned that underneath the jetty we were standing on would have similar fish. My reasoning was correct for a change.
Several fish were feeding in these shadows, so I cast out the pearl-blue Atomic out as far as I could in the shadows. Some smaller fish had a go without hooking up.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the big bronze shape of about 1.5 kilos of mean bream no more than a metre away. With extreme care, I dropped the unweighted lure right next to the pylon, let it sink painfully slowly then gave it a twitch. The bruiser of a bream glided up and inhaled the lure, so I attempted to set the hook, which proved unsuccessful as the hook glanced off the fish's teeth. OK, so I mucked up this shot! There was no second go at this fish as it slid slowly into the murky depths not to be seen again.

I surfaced to meet Mark and Chris. It just so happens that Chris is a regular at this site, so we had a bit of a chat as we looked at those thumping big bream under the painfully distant jetty. Chris told us he had never been on the catwalks under the docks, so Mark and I suggested that he at least give them a go.

While passing the gear down the ladder to the catwalks, I was imagining some of the truly monstrous bream I had seen there in past trips. However, when our eyes became accustomed to the dark, no big black shadows were there to greet us. There were some fish in the kilo range that came to visit, feeding on the pylons, but they were rapidly peppered with the gaudy soft plastics. They were only half interested, following the lures a short distance before vanishing completely.

After much fruitless trying for partly interested bream, we explored the catwalks for about half an hour or so. I soon managed to spot some fish deep down against a pylon. I could just make out their outlines as they picked at the mussels and barnacles. Dropping the red, white and silver flecked grub among these fish got an instant response. My rod slammed down to a hard strike, then the hook pulled. The fish kept going for the tiny lure again and again, but did not hook up. Eventually they gave up, so I had a look at the other side of the catwalk.

Continued...

There were some bigger fish crowding a pylon, so I put the lure back into the drink. I was watching a nice fish as it stared at the lure, when I just caught a glimpse of a black shadow making a beeline straight for it. I thought I was dreaming until the rod slammed down to a solid strike. I set the hooks and the fish went crazy. I had a fun time keeping it away from the razor sharp pylons with the 3 kilo mono. I called once more for Mark to come and grab the net, as Chris had just left. The net was slipped under the insane fish and it was finally landed.

I did not measure the magnificent bronze sided bream, but the attached picture should give an estimate of its size. It was now time to re-surface into broad daylight again, so I passed all the gear up to Mark as we set off to find Chris.

Chris had told Mark where he could be found, and find him we did- among some very rough, busted up remains of a dock. Chris called us to look at some thumping big bream gathering around a pylon deep in the shadows. We had no real luck for quite some time- getting only half hearted follows from some of these nicknamed "horse" bream.

It took a lot of very uncomfortable crawling around in the hot sun, poking the rods through tiny gaps in the timber just to cast. Mark went exploring further up the derelict dock, while Chris peered deep into the shadows. He called me over to look at a crowd of decent bream hanging around a pylon. I spotted another big school, and slid my entire upper body through a gap in order to cast at these fish. The lure sank down among them and about ten bream of all sizes peeled away from the school and attacked the lure ravenously.

The inevitable happened and I hooked up to a medium fish, and with extreme difficulty extracted both the hard fighting fish and my body from the gap in the dock. Mark and Chris photographed the fish, before it was returned quickly to the dark water. Next cast I landed another fish, larger than the last one.

These plastics were just unfair to use on the bream! However, it was time for Chris to go home after another quick go at the catwalks, and almost time for Mark to go as well.

It was also time for a stretching of my flyline, so I put on a Super Tarpon Candy and cast to the same jetty that Chris had pointed out the massive bream. I had a take or two, but nothing overly serious. No sooner than Mark left, I saw a massive shape on the water's surface among the bream. It was a nice Jewie, or as we call them in Victoria, a Mulloway. Luckily it didn't taste my fly that time, as it would have lasted all of 1.5 seconds with the close proximity of the pylons!

The vicious wind made casting a fly tricky to say the least so I voted on going back to plastics. I quickly landed another bream, around 27cm before calling it a day. I still had quite a drive ahead of me, as the sun was sinking yet again on another docklands adventure. I would have stayed until the shadows covered the water, but I was expected in Albury NSW that night. I left the bream picking away at the pylons in the shadows of the tall buildings and Stadium.

Although I didn't hook any of the 2 kilo+ monsters I normally encounter (often very, very briefly) or any of the hordes of Silver Trevally I sometimes see, I had a great day with these bream, hopefully to return soon for another go at these often tricky fish.