Eging — Japanese-style squid jigging — has built a quiet following on Sydney's rocky shoreline, and a recent video from local YouTuber Fishburger captures the moment a self-described rock-fishing addict crossed over into a new obsession.
Fishburger filmed three nights at separate Sydney headlands, fishing rocks with his father on the first session and exploring a new mark recommended by a friend on the second. He was running heavier braid than the technique normally calls for — PE3 line on a Daiwa Seabass 862 ML rod and a 5K Stradic SW XG reel — gear better suited to chasing larger predators than feather-light squid jigs.
That did not stop him from connecting. "I actually earned this squid," he said after landing his first on a jig, drawing a sharp distinction between casting and working a jig versus sight-casting a squid off a jetty. "That's so sick. I got a squid. I might be addicted now. Probably gotta get a proper squid setup, because I am running PE3 right now, which is unheard of. Not unheard of, but definitely not what I should be running."
The first fish was a small green-eye calamari that ate the jig close to the rocks. A second came shortly afterwards. Both were taken on a standard egi-style jig worked with sharp twitches and pauses around weed beds visible from the platform — classic eging in shallow rocky water.
The second night moved the action to a new mark, where Fishburger's first cast came back empty and a passing angler at the ledge — a local fishing the spot every night — confirmed the area held tailor, but only after dark. "I come every night. Night, okay," the local told him, suggesting the early evening session might be too early for tailor. Rather than wait, Fishburger switched to his heavy setup to prospect for kingfish on jigs and was preparing to wind down when a squid hit the egi instead.
"Julian, you were right. Oh my gosh, there are squid here," he said as the line loaded. "That is a decent squid. I'm going to go super gentle with it." The fish was steered carefully off the ledge and into a holding bucket. A second hookup was lost on a rock edge — a common failure mode in eging from elevated platforms, where the squid's soft tissue cannot stand up to abrasion.
The technique he was using is straightforward enough on paper. An egi jig is cast across or near weed beds, allowed to sink, then worked back with short upward flicks of the rod and long pauses on the drop. Squid eat the jig on the fall, and the angler senses weight rather than a true bite on the next lift. Fishburger's video shows the method works at standard rock-fishing distances in Sydney even without specialist eging gear.
His takeaway from the three nights was practical. The squid are within casting range of any number of Sydney rock platforms after dark, the jigs work close to weed beds, and the fish do not require purpose-built tackle to catch — even if a lighter rod would make the experience cleaner. A bigger lesson sits behind the captures, though. A passing angler with local knowledge of when the tailor switch on saved Fishburger from blanking on his second night out and led directly to his best squid of the run. Sydney's rock community is generous if you ask.
