With the dogs greatly on the improve, we had a much better sleep last night, and even had the opportunity of enjoying a bit of a sleep in. Me until about 10:00AM, while Bec wasn’t sighted raising her head until about 11:00AM.

Once we were up, it took us a while to get moving, but get moving we did. Given that we have now been in Carnarvon for a few days and seen very little of the local sights, we figured we would make the most of our extra day here. So off we went, stopping in first at one of the many farm outlets. The Gascoyne region supplies much of Western Australias fruit and vegetables, so there is a sign near the road outside many of the farm gates, advertising what produce they have for sale.

Where we stopped, at Bumbak’s is a little different, as it specialises in preserves, relishes, sauces, jams, chutneys and the like. Inside the little shed that doubles as a showroom, the walls are lined with shelf after shelf full of jars, all full of exotic and in some cases unlikely combinations of fruit and vegetables. Banana jam for instance is one preserve I can’t imagine.

Just down the road from Bumbak’s was the giant statue of Humpty Dumpty. I guess one way of beautifying an oval shaped water tank is by drawing a face on it and creating a tourist attraction out of it. We pulled up alongside for long enough to shoot a picture of it through the window of ‘The Beast’, but otherwise continued along our way to Chinaman Pool.

Chinaman Pool was as exciting as the Humpty Dumpty was to us. One of the few permanent water holes along the Gascoyne River, the locals flock here in the warmer months to go swimming. From what we saw from the levee banks, it was nothing more than a dank hole full of turgid green water, edged with ominous looking blooms of green algae.

Driving into town from the pool, Bec convinced me to drop her off for a final look through the department store, her careful eye appraising any new bargains. None were to be had though, so we continued on our way to Pelican Point. Another much raved about local attraction, there is little to do here apart from fishing, which we may have made the time to partake in, had we remembered to pack the bait into the car fridge. With the bait still safe and sound in the freezer at the van, we instead parked up alongside the dog friendly section of the beach to take the dogs for a walk. We had intended to give them a gentle amble along the foreshore, but they were obviously feeling much better. No sooner had their furry little paws hit the damp, hard packed sand, they were both off and racing, running up and down the beach at top speed, dragging me, breathlessly, along for the ride. By the time we made our way back up the dune to ‘The Beast’, all four of us were out of breath. Alvin, Bethany and I from sprinting haphazardly up and down the beach, and Bec from laughing uncontrollably at the three of us.

Following a run on the beach.

The heritage precinct was just down the road, at the end of the 1 mile jetty. I was looking forward to a wander about the lighthouse keepers museum, but was to be disappointed to find that it was open daily, but only until 1:00PM. Had I known that, I would have headed here first. The railway museum was of little interest to either Bec or myself, so we made the effort to climb the steep flight of stairs leading up to the viewing platform of the old water tower lookout. This provided an excellent vantage point from which to peer along the jetty and out to sea.

Peer along the pier.

On the other side of town, we drove about the boat harbor, where a fish monger we had heard about was located. The prawns looked decrepit compared to those we had enjoyed in Exmouth, while I still hoped to catch my own fresh fish for dinner. As a result, after looking at their offerings, we left empty handed, heading back to the van.

Since we are to be definitely on the road again tomorrow, we had to go through the process of packing up as much as we could today. That saw Bec meddling about inside, trying to find nooks and crannies in which to stow our recent purchases, while I toiled about outside, pulling the awning down.

It was almost 5:00PM by the time we headed out again. We haven’t yet watched a sunset here in Carnarvon, so we decided to go back down to the harbor area, where not only would we be able to view the setting sun, but we would be able to give the whole fishing caper another shot.

Our chances on the fishing front looked minimal, as a couple were leaving empty handed as we arrived. Oh well, we thought, we would give it until the sunset, then pack up and head for home.

As unlikely as it would seem, Bec sent the first hook seaward and the end of the rod soon flickered about in the tell tale signs of a nibbling bite, then before I could even bait my hook, she was reeling in a little Yellow Fin Bream. The action was to continue for Bec, as over the next hour and a half, she reeled in a total of 10, of which there is photographic proof of all bar three. It was with almost each fresh cast, she would spin the spindle to bring in another flapping specimen. Most were well undersized Bream, but there were a couple of bigger fish that we were unable to identify, but decided to keep anyway, and then there was the icing on the cake. A small, but legal sized and very tasty looking Flathead that managed to chew through the line just as we raised it up to the jetty. It fell to the steel tread of the jetty, where we luckily disabled it under our bucket. Finally, our day had come.

BECS FISHING ALBUM

I was well and truly out fished by Bec, managing only a single catch, hauling in a tiddler of a Bream. For a change, it was Bec who was happy to continue fishing, while I was quickly ready to throw in the towel. As proud as I was for Bec, I became more and more agitated with every one she reeled in. I was mostly annoyed that the bait was disappearing from my hook with an uncanny rapidity that belied the number of fish we were bringing in that were of edible size. Not only that, but not having actually considered that the action might be running hot, I had left the bulk of the bait in the van, and we were quickly running out.

MY FISHING ALBUM

In the end, the fishing was so exciting, we completely missed the spectacle of the setting sun, as we instead focused on the arched, taut lined rods. With our stash of bait depleted, and chunks of miniature Bream failing to yield the same submarine stimulation, we decided to call it a night.

Our next issue was trying to figure out how to actually gut and fillet a fish, as we squinted at the pictographic instruction on the tiny screen of an iPhone. I managed to mangle a bit of meat off of each of the three fish we decided to keep, although only one such piece, from the flathead, I would describe as being a ‘fillet’.

With our keepers on ice, it was time to head for home to enjoy a taste of freshly caught, pan fried fish. Yummmmm! Only, we had to make a couple of stops first. A final run through the grocery store was required, ‘The Beast’ required fuel, as did we. As much as I was looking forward to throwing a couple of fillets on the skillet, we would be kidding ourselves if we thought that the tiny morsels of fish were going to satisfy us for dinner.

By the time we returned to the caravan, the elation of having caught a few fish had worn off, and we were now just tired and hungry. Not to mention that a search of the Internet revealed that our two unidentified catches were unpalatable Sand Bass. Two tiny fillets of Flathead were quickly panfryed and at least allowed for a taste of the delectable fresh flesh.

The proof is in the pudding. Thanks Bec.

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