Thursday, January 4, 2007

A day fishing

Damian one of the neighbours calls over the fence to Karen "Does Sean want to go for a fish tomorrow?" So after a small evening drink to plan the day, we were off the next morning, rods, bait and most importantly beers stowed on his 14ft tinny.

Driving out near work, we launched off the beach at Whitnel bay on route to the big deep blue. Heading up along the Burrup Peninsular, was my first glimpse of the pristine coves and beautiful beaches that line the Burrup. We headed north, up past Sea Ripple passage, the end of the peninsula and onto the first of the 40 odd islands that dot the archipelago. Rounding this, we pulled up and anchored, primarily to allow the tide to come in more so we could skip across a shallow bay between two more islands further out.

Turning around to get my gear organized, theres a fizzing sound. Sure enough, Damian had his lips wrapped around a stubby. I Figured then it was going to be a big day. Not to be outdone, I soon have a beer in one hand whilst I bait my first hook.

In it goes and I feel the first Aussie fish bite. Not too good, we sit there pulling up cod and a few small Trevally, nothing worth keeping. Tides in now, so we head off between the two outer islands to the Indian Ocean. Here the beaches run out to a reef which drops straight down to 60 ft, sometimes the reef curving right in to the shoreline. We throw out some lures and begin trawling along the coast. Whiz, Damian hooks into and lands quite a large Mackerel. So early in the piece, we figure we are going to do well. He tossed it back in saying its only dog fodder, we carry on. 8km, 2 beers later and no other takes, I started thinking the throw back wasn't such a wise move. (Phil had dropped some fresh Mackerel fillets to us a few days prior, it tasted good)

We give up the trawling and head directly out to sea, stopping at the "Shoals", a reef that juts up to 60ft from 180, about 5 km out towards Indonesia. We begin fishing and start getting good takes. After 3 sets of gear later and one shark up at the boat, we move to another spot. Same again, we hook into the fish, only to be ripped off as we pull them up. Another move with the same result, we sit back with a beer muttering dire threats towards all Shark kind, something to do with high explosive depth charge. Worse still I begin hauling on the anchor rope and find it has grown into the reef. I promptly heave vigorously, slip over and by some fluke, manage to stay aboard - Nothing to do with the beer consumption! Good humour restored, the anchor comes free and we head for home. We pass over another shallow reef, sharks, turtles and fish life abundant in about three feet of water. Past another set of islands with idyllic beaches and we are back at Whitnell bay. A small chop on the way home has resulted in a red, raw set of bum cheeks. I never realized how hard an aluminium bench seat could be!


Back home, boat washed, empty fish bin, bruised buttocks, and a beer in hand, we both agree its been a good day, particularly for me, getting a taste of what is a beautiful coastline, heaps of potential and many more good times to come.


If only I could Sit down!!!

1 comment:

lizzy said...

From an English teacher to an ex-pat...you write beautifully!
Eric got a snazzy red fishing rod for Christmas and as yet has caught nothing either! Apparently nothing is biting in the whole of Raglan - at least the sun is out at last though.No lack of sun in your neck-o-th-woods, What a beautiful coast you live on!