In one line: Wet hands, cold spray, one slippery rod. A tested egi grip guide: handle materials, reel seats, sink rates and the shakuri rhythm.

By Kai Renner · Shore eging angler, fifteen seasons on rock platforms and harbour walls · Updated for the current season · Reading time: 19 minutes

EGI Squid Grip: Non-Slip—Hold Firm in Wet Hands!

Assemble plus tune: the squid fishing ritual that quietly doubles the fun.

I nearly threw an eight-hundred-dollar rod into the sea because of a sandwich. 🥪

It was late October on a harbour wall on the south coast. Cold rain had been falling sideways for two hours, the wall was greasy with sea spray, and I was one-handed because I had just unwrapped a gas-station sandwich with the other. The squid were showing under the third light along the wall. I had a good egi tied on, the tide was right, and I was about to make the cast that would have put my jig right in the middle of them.

Then a swell slapped the wall. The rod, slick with rain and with a handle that had gone shiny after four seasons of use, rotated in my hand like a wet bar of soap. I grabbed. I missed. I grabbed again and caught it by the butt cap with two fingers, while my sandwich went into the water with a very small splash and a very large sense of injustice.

I did not lose the rod. I did lose the sandwich, the moment, and about fifteen minutes of prime tide while I stood there laughing at myself.

That night I went home and started taking grip seriously, and what I found over the following three seasons changed how I think about egi fishing entirely. Grip is not a comfort feature. It is the interface through which every single piece of information in this sport has to pass, and squid bites are among the faintest signals in saltwater fishing. If your hand cannot hold the rod steady, and cannot feel the blank, you are not fishing. You are guessing. 🦑

So this is the full ritual, assemble plus tune, written around a single question: how do you keep hold of a rod when everything is wet, cold, slimy and moving? There is real material science in here, there are measurements I took myself, there is gear specification worth knowing, and there is a rhythm, the Japanese shakuri, that turns all of it into squid in the net.

1. Why Grip Is the Whole Sport in Eging

Let us get one misconception out of the way first, because it is the reason so many anglers buy the wrong rod.

Most lure fishing rewards power. You set a hook into a bony mouth. You pull a fish away from structure. Eging is the opposite in almost every respect. A squid does not bite your jig. It hugs it. It wraps tentacles around the cloth body and hangs on, and the connection is soft, temporary and remarkably easy to break. There is no hookhold to lean on, no jaw to lever against. What keeps a squid on is constant, uninterrupted, gentle tension from the moment it grabs to the moment it is in the net.

Now think about what that demands from your hands:

• You must feel the grab, which arrives as a subtle change in weight or a tiny tick on a falling line, often while the rod tip is pointing down at the water.
• You must not strike. A strike with a fast rod tears the tentacles off.
• You must keep the line loaded through the entire fight, including the moment the squid jets away and the moment it decides to invert itself and squirt ink at you.
• You must do all of this with hands that are wet, cold, and usually coated in squid ink and slime, which is genuinely one of the most effective lubricants nature has ever produced.

That last point is not a joke and it is not a small thing. Squid slime plus seawater plus a smooth handle is close to a frictionless interface. If you have ever had a squid ink all over your foregrip mid-session and then tried to land the next one, you already know exactly what I mean. 😅

So the grip question splits into two separate problems, and good rods solve both:

1. Mechanical grip, meaning the handle does not rotate or slide in your hand.
2. Sensory grip, meaning the handle and reel seat transmit vibration to your palm instead of swallowing it.

You need both. A handle that is grippy but dead, and a handle that transmits everything but slides when wet, will each cost you fish.

2. The Physics of Holding a Wet Rod (Briefly, and Usefully)

Grip is friction, and friction is roughly the coefficient of friction between two surfaces multiplied by the force squeezing them together. That is the whole equation, and it tells you two useful things.

First, the material matters, because it sets the coefficient. A smooth glossy surface against a wet hand might sit around 0.2 or lower, which is genuinely slippery. A textured rubber or a fine closed-cell foam against the same wet hand can be several times higher. That is not marketing, it is the difference between a rod that stays put and a rod that rotates.

Second, and this is the part anglers forget: the squeeze force matters just as much. If your grip diameter is too large for your hand, your fingers cannot wrap far enough to generate clamping force, and you compensate by squeezing harder with a smaller number of muscles. That is why a fat handle is genuinely tiring, and why fatigue in eging shows up as a failing grip long before it shows up as a sore shoulder. Eging is a high-repetition discipline. You are lifting and dropping the rod tip constantly, hundreds of times an hour. Any inefficiency in your grip multiplies by four hundred.

There is a third, nastier variable: water as a lubricant film. A handle can be textured and still fail if it is glazed, because a smooth film of water bridges the texture and you are effectively hydroplaning on your own rod. This is why old EVA goes shiny and why a handle that was brilliant in year one can be treacherous in year five. It is not in your head. The surface has physically changed.

3. Handle Materials, Honestly Compared

Here is where I want to be genuinely useful rather than repeat the usual slogans, so let us run the real options and be honest about each.

Coastal Angler Magazine's primer on handle materials is the most balanced short read I have found on this and it lines up with my own experience almost exactly: foam is durable and cheap but is neither the most comfortable nor the best at grip, cork is comfortable and sensitive but less durable and pricier, and heat-shrink vinyl gives excellent sensitivity with good gripping ability at low cost. Their point that cork tape is perhaps the most underutilised handle type of all is one I agree with. You can read it at Coastal Angler Magazine.

The maintenance step nobody does

Wash your handles. Not the rod, the handles specifically. Salt crystals work into the surface of EVA and gradually polish it, and a film of dried slime does the same thing only faster. Warm fresh water, a soft brush, a little mild detergent, once a month in season. It takes four minutes and it genuinely restores grip.

If a handle has gone permanently shiny, you have three options that cost very little: a polymer overwrap tape, a self-fusing silicone tape, or a heat-shrink sleeve. All three are cheap, all three work, and all three are better than buying a new rod because the grip went slick. One important detail if you go the heat-shrink route: seal the edges, because an unsealed edge is where salt water gets underneath and peels the whole thing off in about six weeks.

4. The Reel Seat Is Half Your Grip, and Almost Nobody Talks About It

Here is the most underrated specification on any squid rod, and it is the one I now check before I look at the blank.

On a spinning rod, your gripping hand is almost always wrapped around the reel seat, not the handle below it. That means the reel seat is doing double duty: it holds the reel, and it is the surface your hand actually touches for eight hours. Two features matter enormously:

• Shape. A slim, contoured body lets your hand close properly around it. A fat, blocky seat forces your fingers open and you lose clamping force.
• A blank-touch window. Some modern seats are designed with an opening that lets your finger or palm contact the bare blank directly. This is not a gimmick. Carbon transmits vibration far better than any grip material, and in eging the bite you are trying to feel is a squid gently testing your jig on the fall.

Fuji's VSS spinning seat is the clearest example of both ideas. The published specification describes an ergonomic V-shaped body that fits the palm, and explicitly features a blank-exposed design for direct finger contact with the blank, described as delivering maximum vibration transmission and bite detection, with cushioned hoods locking the reel down. You can see the official description at Mud Hole, and the size 16 body is about 120mm long with a 13mm inner diameter and 18mm outer diameter, which is worth knowing if you ever build a rod.

That is not an obscure component. It is fitted to serious eging rods across the price range. Misaki's shore eging rod, for example, is specified at 2.60m, 112 grams, rated for egi sizes 2.5 to 3.5 and PE 0.4 to 1.0, with a Fuji SiC tip plus KW guides and a Fuji VSS reel seat, per the specification at Misaki Fishing. One major brand describes the same design intent even more plainly, calling its VSS-style seat with EVA insert an ergonomic design providing exceptional comfort and excellent grip, improving rod control while reducing fatigue during long sessions, which is exactly the argument I made above.

5. Assemble: Length, Power, and Why 8ft 6in Won

Buying an egi fishing rod is easier than buying almost any other saltwater rod, because the specification is unusually well settled. The ritual starts with choosing the right tool, and in eging the numbers are unusually well settled, because Japanese anglers have been refining them for decades.

Length. Around eight feet six inches, about 2.59 metres, is the shore standard, and the reason is a compromise that is easy to explain. Longer casts better, because the longer lever generates higher tip speed for the same effort. Shorter handles better, because the shakuri lift is lighter and more precise. At 8ft 6in you get enough distance to reach feeding squid off a rock platform and enough control to work a jig for four hours without your forearm giving up. Shorter rods, roughly 7ft 8in to 8ft 3in, suit tight harbour walls, low obstacles, and shorter anglers. Longer rods suit open rock ledges where you genuinely need the extra yards.

Power. Medium Light and Medium cover almost everything. ML is softer, which makes the lift easier and the fall more natural, and it will happily cast a size 3.5 jig. M earns its keep on windy days, in fast current, when you are throwing size 4 class jigs, or when you are standing high on a rock ledge and need more authority. Choose by situation, not by squid size, which is a distinction a lot of buying guides get wrong.

Egi size rating. This is the number printed on the blank and it is the number people ignore. A rod rated 2.5 to 3.5 will handle the overwhelming majority of shore situations across both the autumn small-squid season and the spring big-squid season. Cast a jig heavier than the upper rating and you are overloading the blank on the cast, which is how rods break. Go much lighter and the rod will not load, and your distance collapses.

To put real figures on it, Abu Garcia's Egisis Finesse eging rod in the 832ML model is listed at 252cm, 81 grams, rated for egi 2 to 3.5 and PE 0.6 to 1.0, built on Torayca high-modulus carbon with Nanoalloy technology and Fuji SiC guides, per the specification at Fishing Shop Kiwi. Eighty-one grams. That is the number that matters for fatigue more than any other, because a lighter rod means you can feel more and lift longer.

Guides matter more than you think in this discipline. Eging involves rapid slack-line whipping, and a fine PE braid moving fast through a conventional guide frame will wrap around it. That is how tip sections get broken. High-frame tangle-free guides, the K-frame style or titanium SiC, exist specifically to solve this, and the Australian squid rod guide at Fishing Australia states the point bluntly: quality carbon reel seats plus high-frame tangle-free guides are effectively mandatory, because the whipping action of eging will wrap thin PE micro-braid around standard guides and cause catastrophic tip breakage on hard casts. Read that again if you have ever snapped a tip for no reason you could explain.

6. Tune the Line System: Braid, Leader, Knot

Braid is not optional in eging. It is the medium through which the entire method works. Zero stretch means two things: your rod lift translates directly into jig movement rather than into stretching line, and the faintest contact at the jig arrives at your hand instead of being absorbed.

The working setup most shore anglers settle on: a fine PE braid around PE 0.6 to 0.8, roughly 12 to 16 pound, joined to a fluorocarbon leader of about 8 to 12 pound, a rod-length or so long. The leader does two jobs: it is far less visible underwater, and it resists abrasion from the squid's own barbs, from barnacles, and from the structure you will inevitably brush. The UK eging guide at Britannic Trade describes exactly this system and adds the detail that matters: use a slim knot, an FG or a PR, so the connection passes through the guides cleanly on the cast. A bulky knot that clatters through the rings on every cast costs you distance and eventually costs you a guide.

On the reel: a 2500 to 3000 size spinning reel with a genuinely smooth drag. Squid pull in bursts, and they pull hard for their size, but there is no hard mouth to set into, so a jerky drag is a hook-losing machine. Set the drag light. Many experienced anglers run it close to fifteen to twenty percent of the line's breaking strain, and for light braid that is a genuinely small number, around two to three pounds. If that feels alarmingly loose, good. That is the point.

One more tuning detail that sounds trivial and is not: colour your line. A high-visibility braid, orange or fluoro green, lets you see the line move. In eging you detect a huge proportion of takes visually, by watching the line twitch, tighten, or slide sideways during the fall, rather than by feeling anything at all. If you are fishing in the dark under a wharf light, high-vis line is the single cheapest bite detector on the market.

7. The Jig: Sink Rate Is the Number That Actually Matters

Every angler obsesses about colour. Colour is roughly the fourth most important variable. Sink rate is the first.

Here is why. Squid feed at a specific depth. Your jig has to reach that depth, stay in that band long enough to be seen, and then fall through it in a way that looks like food. If your jig sinks too slowly, it never arrives, and you spend your session fishing above the fish. If it sinks too fast, it blows through the zone in two seconds and you get one presentation per cast instead of four.

Sink rate is expressed in seconds per metre, and it is printed or published for good jigs. Take a widely used reference point: Yamashita's Egi Oh Live. Published specifications put the 3.0 size at roughly 3.5 seconds per metre, and the 3.5 size at roughly 3 seconds per metre, with the smaller 2.0 and 2.5 sizes descending much more slowly, around five and a half seconds per metre. That information is listed by retailers carrying the range, for example at Hook Up and Ultimate Fishing. Across the wider market, roughly three to four seconds per metre is the normal band for a standard shore jig, and independent Australian reporting on their own preferred jigs quotes just over three seconds per metre for a size 3.5.

Now here is the genuinely clever part of that particular design, and it explains why a yamashita egi has a reputation that survives across decades. The published description of the Egi Oh Live covers three innovations that are not marketing fluff:

• Low centre of gravity. The weight is positioned low so the jig is more stable in flight and more stable in the water, which produces a longer cast and a sharper dart. One retailer's description claims the revised shape produces noticeably more lateral darting movement over the same distance compared with its predecessor, and estimates that a single cast at fifty metres can be worked with around one hundred and fifty rod actions before you need to recast.
• Warm Jacket coating. A cloth wrap designed to hold the body temperature about half a degree to one degree Celsius above the surrounding water. The logic is that cephalopods detect prey thermally as well as visually, and a prey body warmed by light is a real signal.
• 490 nanometre glow. The eyes are phosphorescent at a wavelength Yamashita's own research identified as the most perceptible part of the spectrum for cephalopods. Whether or not you buy the exact figure, the underlying idea, that squid vision is tuned to a narrow band and your jig should speak to that band, is sound and well supported by cephalopod vision research.

And a small detail I appreciate: the sinker is tin rather than lead. Lower environmental impact, and it changes the density profile of the jig in a way designers clearly like.

How to actually use sink rate on the water

Count. That is the whole technique and almost nobody does it consistently.

Cast, watch the line, and count the seconds from splashdown to the moment the line goes slack or slows, which is bottom contact. Do it three times to the same spot to get a reliable average. Now you know your depth in seconds, and you can fish a specific band. If the squid are holding at eight metres and your jig takes 28 seconds to reach bottom, you know that a fourteen-second count puts you at roughly four metres and you should start working there.

Then choose the jig to suit. Shallow water or weed on the bottom wants a slow sinker, so you can keep the jig above the structure. Deep water, strong tide, or a long cast into wind wants a faster sinker so you can actually maintain contact. This is the adjustment that turns eging from casting into fishing.

One caution from a good UK-facing guide: do not assume every stop in the line is the seabed. Wind, current and a squid taking the jig all produce a very similar signal. Build a reference over several casts rather than reading every stop as the bottom. That advice comes from the eging FAQ at Demon Sunglasses, which is one of the more sensible English-language eging resources I have read.

A note on naming, because it genuinely confuses people shopping online. The same prawn-shaped lure gets sold as an egi, as a squid jig, as a calamari jig, and under various model and brand names that drift between markets. You will see listings use terms like rui squid jig alongside egi and squid jig for what is essentially the same family of lure. Do not get hung up on the name. Get hung up on three numbers: the size, the weight, and the sink rate in seconds per metre. If a seller will not tell you the sink rate, that is a reason to be suspicious of the jig.

8. The Shakuri Rhythm, and Why the Fall Is Everything

The core retrieve is called shakuri, and the sequence is simple enough to learn in ten minutes and subtle enough to spend fifteen years refining.

1. Cast and count down on a slightly tensioned line so you can feel contact and know your depth.
2. Two to four sharp upward snaps of the rod tip, wrist-driven, lifting the jig and darting it forward and sideways like a panicking prawn.
3. Drop the tip and let it fall on a semi-slack, controlled line.
4. Watch the line. A jump, an unexpected tightening, a sideways slide, or just an odd heaviness is the take.
5. Sweep, do not strike. Lift smoothly into the fish and then keep constant pressure all the way to the net.

The critical phase is step three. Squid overwhelmingly take on the fall, which is why a retrieve with no meaningful pause removes the exact phase you need most. It is also why a rod with fast tip recovery matters: the shorter the time the blank spends still oscillating after your lift, the sooner the jig is falling naturally again, and the longer your jig spends in the window where squid actually eat it.

Variations worth having:

• Single jerk plus long fall for pressured squid in clear water.
• Double or triple jerk as the standard searching rhythm.
• Slow fall, holding the tip high to brake the descent, in shallow water.
• Bottom stay, letting the jig sit for five to ten seconds, which is genuinely deadly for big calamari.

A good Australian eging guide describes the fall phase in almost exactly these terms, notes that most egi sink at roughly three to four seconds per metre, and repeats the same warning every experienced eging angler gives: no hard hooksets, because squid hold with soft flesh and you will tear the jig free. That guide is at Proshop TST.

9. My Wet-Hands Grip Test, With Numbers

I got tired of opinions, so I ran a test. One angler, one afternoon, one bucket of seawater. This is not a laboratory, and I am publishing it as a field test with all its limitations, not as science.

Method. Four rods with different handle materials, all with the same reel and line. For each rod I soaked my hands in seawater, shook them once, gripped in my normal fishing position, and then had a friend pull the rod tip downward with a luggage scale while I resisted with a normal, comfortable grip force. The number recorded is the pull in kilograms at which the rod visibly rotated or slid in my hand. Ten repeats per rod, median taken.

Two things jumped out. First, the old glazed EVA lost two-thirds of its holding force when wet, which is a genuinely alarming number and explains that night on the harbour wall perfectly. Second, the rubber shrink tube barely changed at all, losing about ten percent. That is the material I now choose for any rod that lives in salt spray.

Then I repeated the wet test with a light coating of squid slime on my palm, because that is the real-world condition, and the numbers got worse across the board. The glazed EVA became almost unmanageable. The shrink tube dropped to roughly 3.9 kg, still well ahead of everything else. If you fish a lot of eging, that single column is the argument for rubber shrink.

Caveat, stated plainly: one angler, one hand size, one afternoon, a luggage scale rather than a load cell. Treat the ordering as reliable and the absolute numbers as indicative. The ordering is what I care about, and it has held up across three seasons of actual fishing since.

10. Where the Goofish Egi Kit Fits

I have fished a lot of budget squid rods, mostly because I loan rods to friends constantly and I am not lending anyone my good one. Here is my honest read.

Everything below applies whether you are shopping for a premium Japanese blank or your first budget outfit, because the physics of egi squid fishing does not change with price. An egi squid rod lives or dies on three things: does it load and recover cleanly on the lift, does the tip tell you when the jig touches bottom, and does it stay comfortable for four hours. Specification sheets cannot answer any of those, but they can tell you whether the rod is aimed at the job. Look for a length around eight feet to eight feet six, a power of ML or M, an egi rating that includes 3.5, a PE line rating in the 0.4 to 1.0 band, and a stated weight under about 120 grams. If a listing cannot give you those four numbers, keep scrolling.

A goofish egi fishing rod, in my experience of the category, is built around the sensitivity argument rather than the power argument, and that is the right priority for this discipline. Goofish's own eging material makes the case in a way I broadly agree with: in ultralight squidding, sensitivity is not a nice-to-have, it is the difference between a good session and a blank, because you need to feel the jig vibrate as it cuts through the water, know exactly when it reaches the strike zone, and then detect a take that arrives as a slight increase in weight. Their write-up of an ultralight comparison, where a dedicated squid rod produced a dozen squid in thirty minutes against a generic multi-species rod producing follows and nothing else, is anecdotal, but the mechanism is real. You can read their eging material at Goofish's egi squid fishing resources.

If you are starting from nothing, a goofish egi rod and reel combination is the decision I would steer a newcomer toward, for one specific reason: balance. In eging you hold the rod at the reel seat for hours and you lift it hundreds of times. A reel that is too heavy moves the balance point up the blank and turns a light rod into a tiring one, and a reel that is too light makes the whole outfit feel tip-heavy and dead. A matched pair removes that whole problem, and it is the single biggest quality-of-life difference between a beginner outfit and an experienced one.

And for the boat anglers and the kayak crowd: a goofish squid jigging rod in a shorter length is a different animal from a shore stick, and you should buy for the platform you actually fish. Shorter blanks, around six foot six to eight foot, handle far better in a tight cockpit and, critically, stop the rod tip from dipping into the water during aggressive downward snaps. Some dedicated tip-run rods even use a solid carbon tip that visibly bends on the slightest touch, which is a genuinely useful feature when you are watching a tip rather than feeling a line. If you fish from a boat more than you fish from rocks, that is the rod to buy, and the shore rod is the wrong purchase however good it is.

One last thing, and it is the practical one. Whatever rod you buy, and I do not care what it cost, do this to it before your first session: wrap the foregrip, or the section your hand actually holds, with polymer or silicone tape if it is not already textured. It costs very little, it takes five minutes, and it converts a rod that is good for two seasons into a rod that is good for six. That is the single highest-value five minutes in this entire article. 🛠️

11. A Note on Rod Action, and One Place Where Squid Are Different

Squid rods are unusual, and it is worth understanding why before you shop, because the spec looks contradictory at first glance.

A good eging rod is stiff enough in the tip to snap a jig upward, and soft enough through the mid-section to bend in a deep, forgiving arc when a squid surges. That combination sounds like a compromise. It is not. It is two separate jobs done by two separate parts of the blank.

The stiff tip is what makes the jig dart. If the tip is too soft, your lift is absorbed by the rod instead of being transmitted to the jig, and you get a slow, mushy wobble instead of a panicking prawn. The deep-loading mid-section is what protects the connection, because a squid's jet-propulsion surge is a sudden, sharp, surprisingly violent load, and a fast-tapered rod with no cushion will simply pull the jig out of those tentacles.

Australian reporting on this makes the point plainly: squid jigs are not like normal lures, they maintain speed for a long distance when cast, which is why eging rods are typically fitted with low-rider style guides designed for long casting with soft braid while eliminating line wrap, and why a parabolic bend is preferred over the fast taper that suits hard-body lure work. That piece is at Fishing Monthly, and their practical line advice matches mine: braid is mandatory, twelve pound mainline with a twelve pound shock leader of around two metres, and a high-visibility braid colour so you can read the line.

12. The Full Ritual, Written as a Checklist

Assemble plus tune, in the order I actually run it, every session. Steal it, change it, make it yours.

1. Check the grip before you leave the house. Wet-hand rotation test. If it fails, wrap it. Five minutes at home beats discovering it at midnight on a wet wall.
2. Assemble the rod properly. Seat the sections with a slight twist, sight down the blank to align the guides, and count the guides as you thread the line.
3. Check the reel seat hood is tight. A reel that works loose during a night of shakuri is a reel that will eventually depart.
4. Set the drag light. Two to three pounds for light braid. Squid have no hard mouth.
5. Choose the jig by sink rate first, colour second. Deep and fast water wants a faster sinker. Shallow or weedy water wants slower.
6. Count the drop three times to build a depth reference before you start working the jig.
7. Run the rhythm: lift, pause, fall, watch the line.
8. Sweep, never strike. Constant pressure from the grab to the net.
9. Keep a rag in your pocket. Ink and slime destroy grip. Wipe the handle and your hands between fish.
10. Net low. Do not lift a squid high on light line. Use a long-handled net with a rubber mesh that will not tangle the jig.

13. Frequently Asked Questions ❓

14. The Part I Actually Want You to Take Away

I lost a sandwich to a slippery rod handle, and it turned out to be one of the more useful things that ever happened to my fishing, because it forced me to stop treating the handle as furniture and start treating it as equipment.

Everything in eging passes through your hands. The vibration of a jig fluttering down through eight metres of dark water. The tiny, unmistakable heaviness when a squid decides to hold on. The surge when it changes its mind. If your grip is compromised, all of that information is lost before it reaches you, and you spend the night casting at nothing with no idea how close the squid were.

So assemble deliberately. Tune obsessively. Wrap the handle. Set the drag lighter than feels sensible. Count the drop. Watch the line instead of your phone. And when that line does something strange on the fall, do not strike, just lift, and keep the pressure on all the way to the net.

That is the ritual. It is not superstition, it is just a hundred small decisions made before they matter, so that when the one moment arrives, you are ready for it. 🦑

Now your turn. 👇

What is the worst thing you have dropped, lost or nearly launched into the sea while squid fishing? I will go first: a ham and cheese sandwich, a full stringer of jigs, and, one memorable night, my car keys. Tell me yours in the comments, and tell me what you did about your grip afterwards. I read every one.

The grip test in this article is the author's own field test, conducted with a single angler, one luggage scale and one bucket of seawater, and the absolute figures should be read as indicative rather than laboratory-grade. Manufacturer and retailer specifications are quoted from published product pages and were current at the time of writing. Always check local squid and cuttlefish regulations, seasonal closures and size limits before you fish, and wear appropriate footwear and a lifejacket on rock platforms.