It is no wonder that we enjoy the company of David and Heather so much, when it was agreed last night that this morning would be set aside for a sleep in, a decision I was most pleased with. This allowed us to switch the alarm off and fritter away the morning in a close to catatonic state in bed. Luxury.

When we did finally roll out of bed, it was to find that the forecast 33^oC didn’t look like it would be attained. A thick layer of low cloud obscured the sun and the temperature could best be described as fresh. This discovery was met with disdain, as it put our planned trip to the beach into disarray. We had all envisioned a gloriously warm day on which we could drive ‘The Beast’ out onto the sand, before stopping to unroll the awning to give us a crescent of shade to sit beneath while enjoying a cold beverage or two and dabbling our toes in the refreshing water with the dogs walking alongside us. The current outlook just didn’t support this notion, so alternate plans were discussed when David and Heather arrived.

It was decided that instead of our day by the seaside, we would unpack the fishing rods and try our hand at catching our dinner. Wetting a line and our lips seemed like a worthy substitute, so we took off to find somewhere to buy some bait.

Bait was sourced from the local hardware store, a packet of prawns and a pack of cockles were purchased at the recommendation of the shop assistant. I’m wary of her advice though, given that she had to look it up in a little book she pulled from behind the counter, blowing the layer of dust from it before scrolling through the yellowed pages.

Getting the prawns for the fish to eat got us to thinking along the lines of getting ourselves some fresh prawns to snack on also, so on the way to our chosen fishing hole, we stopped in at the seafood store from which we bought the lobster earlier in the week. There were no prawns ready, but we were assured that they wouldn’t be too long if we waited. That gave us a chance to take a wander around the rear of the factory, where all the tanks are kept, full of live crayfish. It was amazing to see dozens upon dozens laying idly about in the tanks, all graded according to size. The biggest ones in at the moment weigh in at a whopping 3Kg, although we were told that they can come in at double that size. Wow, now they would be absolutely mammoth.

While waiting for our prawns, we also had enough time to take a quick run around the supermarket to pick up a few bits and pieces to go with our gourmet seafood lunch, as well as getting the rods set up for our fishing adventure.

Then, it was on. We trekked our prawns down to the waterfront at the marina, carrying with us our camp chairs, fishing sticks, tackle boxes and buckets. Loaded as we were, we struggled to walk to what looked a promising point at which to drown our bait.

For over half an hour we munched on crunchy fleshed prawns, washed down with chilled lagers, while we cast time after time our lines into the briny deep, pulling in nothing more than hulking wads of seaweed. Between us, we didn’t even feel a nibble, which was most disheartening, although we were at least entertained by a seal that was frolicking playfully about in the water right in front of us.

Our afternoons entertainment was provided courtesy of ‘Salty the Seal’.

Considering the lack of rod bending action, even I was on the verge of calling it quits, when Bec moved a little way further down the jetty, only to feel the unmistakable jerky tugging on her line of a feasting fish that ultimately sucked her hook clean of bait. We moved to the new location and were all soon experiencing the fun of having our bait expertly nibbled from around our supposedly guaranteed, chemically sharpened hooks.

With all the bites we were getting, it was inevitable that sooner or later one of us would manage to pull in an actual, live fish. Thrillingly, it was my turn to shine on the fishing front, reeling in a somewhat undersized whiting. The way I jumped around and hollered about my catch, you could have been mistaken for thinking I’d just pulled in a prize catch. Sadly not though, as I got Bec to take a confirmation photo, before returning the little slippery creature back to the sea.

This one’s a little tiddler. Back to the ocean with it.

Not five minutes later, the tip of my rod bent over as the line stretched tautly and I was again feeling the excitement of hooking another pelagic. This one was a fighter, but it was eventually pulled to the decking, where I was able to stretch it out against the measure with only a little bit of exertion to be able to call it a legal catch. Into the bucket it went and while it wasn’t really enough to feed the four of us for dinner, it would suffice for a little snack back at the van.

Stretched out it’s legal!

On the way back to the van, considering our dismal angling efforts a stop was made at the pub to book in for dinner tonight. The remainder of our afternoon was spent madly running about, tearing down the annex, packing up and repacking ‘The Beast’ ready for having to hit the road again tomorrow. Thanks to the assistance of David, while Heather gladly kept the dogs from getting under our feet, we managed to get the annex packed away in record time.

With that all done, David and Heather retreated to their motel for a rest and to clean up before dinner, leaving Bec and I to finish the big game of Tetris as we tried to fit everything back into its place. I must admit that I also made time to sear the whiting up on the barbeque. Enough for a few bites, it must go down as one of the best bits of fish I’ve ever had, which probably isn’t all that surprising considering the freshness of it.

At 7:00PM, we arrived at the hotel for dinner where we quickly placed our order. Over an hour later it was, before our meals were finally delivered to the table, by which time I was thankful that I had enjoyed my fish for afternoon tea. At least the meals were delectable, even if David had to return his beef schnitzel for the chicken schnitzel he had actually ordered. It’s odd that it can take over an hour to provide us with the wrong plate, but only another 10 minutes to bring out the right order.

Desserts were the highlight of the meal though, with a dense, moist sticky date pudding, floating in a deep puddle of sickly sweet caramel sauce being the source of my enchantment, while Bec chowed down on an apple and rhubarb crumble that was a perfect balance between sweetness and tartness.

Following what transpired to be a marathon meal, we bid farewell to our guests. Unlike when we were left to our own devices in Darwin after our friends returned home, it wasn’t so depressing to say goodbye this time around, mainly because we were already making plans to catch up in a week or so when we return home. Now that there is a few words I’d rather not have to utter so soon, but our trip is indeed reaching its finale.

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