After talking to the caravan park manager yesterday about the best time to go fishing, we decided to ignore his advice. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, we’re not early morning people, so getting up in the dark to throw a line in as the sun crested the eastern horizon was out of the question. Instead, we timed our visit to the wharf for the rising high tide, which was still early enough, as we strolled along the jetty at just a bit before 9:00AM.

The contrast between high tide…

…and low tide is evident.

With a stiff breeze blowing in off of King Sound, the waters of which were fishing, it was actually quite chilly, a nice respite from the recent weather we’ve been experiencing, even if it did mean donning a fleecy pullover to keep the chill at bay. The wind also saw me having to un-customarily leave my beloved hat in ‘The Beast’. As such, there is no photographic evidence of me actually fishing this morning as I invoked the no hat, no photos rule.

As far as fishing goes, I’d rate myself as clueless, but having brought the fishing sticks along, we may as well give it a go. We were well armed with a pack of frozen bait, as recommended by everyone we had asked, but as for tackle, had no idea what we ought to be using. Considering I only had a couple of smaller rods, set up with pretty light line, we didn’t have much of a choice, but the line some of the guys were using looked more like rope compared to our fine silk like strand of nylon.

I’m sure two catch something.

Almost 2 hours we sat there, our bait being nibbled away by tiny little bug like looking things that would eat all the flesh out of out Mullet pieces, leaving the skin and bones, but not much else. A couple of decent nibbles were felt, but were unfruitful. We had almost given up, while the most exciting thing that had happened all morning was the sighting of a crocodile gliding through the muddy brown water, when my rod bent in half and the line started disappearing from the spool at an alarming rate. I had the drag set pretty lightly, but the reel was whizzing away, as what ever had ingested my lump of bait took off. There was no question of fighting it, as it didn’t seem to matter how tightly I wound the drag up, my mighty catch easily continued to strip my reel of line, until the inevitable happened. With an almost audible twang, the line went slack and the spool stopped spinning, and I wound in a cleanly snapped line bereft of any terminal tackle. Yep, it’s the classic one that got away tale of woe, but it’s the best I can do of our angling experience. I was at least exalted that I had nearly managed to pull something in. Bec walked away in dismay, having barely felt a bite for her efforts.

As a consolation prize, we bought a serve of fish and chips from the pier side diner. Including the $10.00 we had wasted on bait, our not so fresh fish of the day cost us a whopping $24.00 and was nothing to write home about.

Not quite the same (or as cheap) as catching it for yourself.

We ate that back at the van, at which time we noticed that not having worn our hats today has provided us with a lovely sun induced red hue to our faces. My forehead seems especially tender, being that it is an extreme rarity that my head is exposed to the burning rays of the sun.

After lunch, we did some packing and tidying in readiness to leave in the morning, before kicking back to watch a movie. The film was absolute rubbish, and before we knew it, we were both catching up on some much needed sleep that we had missed out on by getting up early this morning.

Since we had some bait left over from this mornings dismal effort at fishing, we decided to head down to the wharf to watch the sunset, and give us a chance to drown the remainder of the Mullet. We gave ourselves about an hour before the sun was due to set, agreeing that we would dip the lines in until dusk. Unlike this morning, we managed to get a few decent nibbles but nothing overly exciting, and certainly didn’t find ourselves reeling anything in.

Wetting a line.

It was just as the sun was nearing the lower reaches of the sky that Bec called out in glee as the thrilling sight of her bending rod got her excited. So excited, that we pretty much missed the sun disappearing, as Bec joyfully reeled in her catch, me watching on enthusiastically. I was already dreaming of ditching our planned dinner of leftovers from last night, and enjoying a fillet or two of fresher than fresh pan fried fish. I was almost drooling, I could almost taste it, as from over the edge of the jetty Bec hauled in her catch of Cat Fish. All 15 centimetres of it. Even as I consulted the fishing guide, I knew in my heart that it was too small. Almost 30CM too small.

Don’t let that slimy thing touch me!

As such, we unhooked it and returned it to the briny, still animatedly excited that we, well Bec, had at least caught something. Not only that, but it wasn’t to be the last catch of the night, although I can’t even lay claim to that one, as it was all Becs doing again.
Just like this morning, we were about to call it quits, when her rod formed that telling arc, as the line strained against the eyelets. She happily reeled in another Cat Fish, bigger than the last, but still undersized. So, tonight it was Bec who was able to walk, exaltedly back to the car, with a couple of tales to tell of her fishing prowess and how she had beat me 2 catches to none, while I was left to ruminate what could have been. At least I didn’t feel so ripped off at having dipped into my pocket to the tune of $10.00 for the bait. That is after all only $5.00 a fish, or $3.33 if I get to count the one that got away.

Catch number 2.

Back to the van, an early night is called for this evening, to prepare for a day upon the road again tomorrow. My only fear is, that my forehead has tightened to such an extent as a result of my exposure to the solar rays this morning, my ability to close my eyes might be slightly impaired. I’ll see how I go.

As for ‘The Kilometre Challenge’ the entries are slowly starting to roll in. Don’t forget, 2 guesses per day are allowed, by email to: marcus@myramblingtales.com. A quick hint, to try and avert any further attempts at bribery, of which there has been more than one, I’m guessing the total figure will be between 20,000 and 30,000. Good luck to all.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.