Around Oz the First Time - Chapter 54 - Broome Day 6

An early start, but no the ridiculous, pre-dawn one of El Questro. Having said that the alarm was set for 5.30am, but it was not required as I was awake well before it went off. I have given myself 90 minutes to get gear ready, because we went whiting fishing yesterday, and we finished after sunset, I am rigged all differently to what I will need today.

Having said that it takes no time at all to replace paternoster rigs with heavy leaders and swivels for lure fishing amongst the demons of the ocean where we believe we are going. Target today barramundi and threadfin salmon, both high on the list of fish that taste great and are, particularly in the case of the barramundi, high on every angler’s bucket list. Mine suggests something over one metre would satisfy the list.

Our guide Jeff picks us up towing a boat which is so large it needs oversize signs all over it. The Cruiser he is pulling it with must struggle to stay under weight once we all pile inside, but still pulls the boat with ease. We pick up another angler along the way and head back to the port for launching. Rather than the public boat ramps, Jeff chooses to use the commercial slipway, it allows for more protection in the wind, but will be useless when we return as it will be low tide. He explains he will have to walk the some, 600 metres from the public ones to the slipway to retrieve the car and trailer when we return, but for now we launch and are off.

It’s a 20 minute dash across the bay to Crab Creek, the place where we want to start. We strangely don’t enter the creek but troll outside in the shallows, along gutters and trenches rather than head up the creek. Jeff explains because the tide is dropping and its not a larger tide, we would get caught in their on the mudflats. Up and down for a while, every now and then the lure would bump against the bottom, and then it happens.

All of a sudden, my reel is screaming, peeling off line. Suddenly a silver flash jumps in the distance, I am on to a barramundi, and a decent one at that. The jump appears to have been on the other side of the trench, seemingly jumping up into the shallow water. Jeff doesn’t see the jump and calls it for a threadfin, but I saw it and I know what I have. I crank hard, not wanting to tighten the drag for fear another run might pull through the hooks.

Finally I get colour, everyone calls wow a huge Barra, Silver Leader grabs the net and I endeavour to get my prize closer to the boat for netting. First attempt fails and Jeff wans Silver Leader not to hit the line with the net for fear of releasing the fish. A second, a third time, you can see why these fish are prized for their fight. Finally the fish is in the net and Silver Leader and Jeff haul it into the boat to the hysterical joy of the crowd, not to mention the angler at the rod.

I think I finally breathe, It’s large, too large to keep, that’s for sure as 780cm is the limit, but how large, only a tape measure will tell, and out comes an old trusty one from the helm, rusted with use, given it has probably measured thousands of fish. 87cm, not quite the fish of the Pentecost but still admirable. We quickly take the obligatory photos and Jeff then swims the fish to get it breathing properly and sends it on its way after having given me an experience I will remember for a long time.

The benchmark now set, it’s time to continue and look to better 87cm. Up and down the trench we go, but there are no more touches let alone captures. We persevere for about an hour, before Jeff call’s it quits on this spot and heads for another, this time looking for salmon, blue eye and threadfin. He is looking for birds working, but there are few, certainly not in the proportions we would like. He stops seemingly in the middle of nowhere and says, “try here”. We have re-rigged to bottom bashing gear, a running sinker to a hook, baited with a cooked prawn, large enough to eat, and a strip of fish.

Again, no immediate luck, then all of a sudden, I am on. It’s not big, but it’s a fish, a blue eye salmon. I land it and throw again, the same result, but the fish are not big enough for Jeff’s liking and we move on. This happens for much of the morning, we stop at a spot, we might get a nibble then we move on.

Eventually he pulls the plug on the mud flat fishing and suggests we go out into the bay proper and try our luck in the deeper reefs. We change rigs again, this time to a paternoster rig with a large weight at the bottom to get it down the 18 – 20 metres to the bottom. Jeff is pessimistic about our chances and says we will stay here until the sharks get too hungry and spoil our efforts. He warns us its an “angry” spot and everything here fights, and fights hard.

First spot, not even a nibble, second spot, the same. He warns us if we start catching catfish it will be on for one and old, but for now, anything would be a change. He suggests he will try the edge of the reef system.

Almost immediately there is action. The fight in this critter is huge. Jeff calls catfish and he is right, a fish about a metre long comes up to the boat and Jeff releases it outside the confines of the boat to allow it to return. He is unaware of its eating capabilities but is determined not to bring any on board. Soon we are all into catfish of our own, at one point a triple hook up, or so we thought, until the fish got to the surface and one was a trevally, into the kill talk for him.

Suddenly I am on again, but this time the fight is different in feel, Jeff calls catfish but I am not sure. This one runs me around the boat attempting to tangle all the lines but they are all retrieved once a decent fish is hooked for just that reason. I get it to the top and it is certainly not a catfish, in fac tits a much sort after Javelin Fish and a large one too. Jeff doesn’t think he has seen one caught larger in these parts although they do grow bigger.

We are having a whale of a time with the catfish but Jeff wants us to experience more barramundi, so he calls it for the catfish, even though we would have quite happily stayed, and we re-rig again for the shallow water troll. On entering Dampier Creek Silver Leader gets a hit immediately, but alas its only a small trevally. It gave a good fight but went back after being boated. For the rest of the charter we chased barramundi up and down this creek but to no avail. So, for the entire trip so far we have now caught six barramundi and are yet to taste the fruits of our efforts as two had to go back for breeding and four had to go back to grow to a size legal to take.

Back at the ramp all four fisherman are asked to hold the boat while the skipper gets the trailer. We are not allowed to let the boat beach because the falling tide is so quick, he won’t be able to retrieve it before the water returns. The boat on the trailer, Jeff returns us to the van park with gutted fish, for us to show the waiting ladies, we can actually produce food for dinner.

On return we immediately head to the cleaning tables to fillet and skin the fish. All three of us have skills in this having caught and filleted many fish before. The trevally is the most difficult, because of the flutes along its tail, but we manage and the dinner is ready, almost. We head back to the van, in the Cruiser (we were too buggered to walk the 150 meters to the cleaning tables) and sort out what we need to do before dinner.

What needs to be done is a shopping trip because tomorrow we are out of here and it might be as many as six days before we are near a real shopping centre. Robyn and I head to Woolworths, particularly after mineral water, but we can do with some other things as well. In the condiments aisle I have a think about how to present the fish for my dinner, lemon pepper in the flour, I believe will be a good touch. I also grab some Moroccan and Tuscan spice jars.

Thinking healthy, I grab some spinach, spring onions, feta and ricotta cheese, which along with some filo pastry will allow me to make some spinach pies, one for dinner and one, maybe two for ‘Ron. Back at the van we Cryovac the meat, put the other items away and I attack the preparation of the pies. Just about to throw them in the oven I realise I haven’t put any garlic in the mix. No worries I threw some Moroccan spice instead (well that’s my excuse and I am sticking to it).

We grab some plastic bags and throw some flour into them. Flour only for Robyn’s dinner, and I add some Lemon Pepper spice for mine. We are having the Javelin Fish, to which I am adding a couple of small pieces of the blue eye salmon. Robyn is whipping up a quick salad and a piece of the spinach pie should top it off.

The pies are ready, and I throw one on the table in the beer garden and it disappears very quickly, they all agree, Robyn is a great cook. The fish are ready and distributed, you cant beat fresh fish.

The fishing has made me tired form all the work on first the barramundi and then the catfish, and with a long trip planned for tomorrow to 80 Mile Beach, I am wanting an early night’s sleep. Before getting to the sack the washing up needs doing, it can go away in the morning in the readying for departure. I hit the sack, and do not remember my head hitting the pillow.