A Fishing Tale

Aug 6  First point – if you are not interested in fishing then exit the blog and go and check your emails because this tale is about the story of one of Australia’s iconic fish – the barramundi (‘barra’ to the locals). For those with an interest in fishing please bear with Bob for this story. It will also go some way to prove the theory that you do not have to be mad to like fishing but it does help.

Most fishermen who go to Groper Creek chase the elusive ‘barra’. Those with boats are at an advantage because they can cover a lot of river territory with live bait and lures to catch their prize – and quite a few are successful. However, if you do not have a boat then you are limited to casting in hope from the river’s edge … or …

The locals are aware that sometimes the barra appear under the jetty by the boat ramp just after high tide on the runout tide. In fact, Bob had seen them one evening but they could not be enticed by a lure. They seemed only to be interested in live bait.

On Sunday morning around 9 am after a high tide overnight, all the locals were talking about the flathead ‘pads’ that showed that a lot of quite large flathead (another iconic Aussie fish that tastes delicious) were around. So, since we were due to leave Groper Creek on Tuesday, Bob decides to try for a flathead or two overnight on Sunday when the high tide was just after midnight. Bear with me … the story now starts …

First requirement was for some fresh live bait. So off to the jetty with the cast net to try for some prawns. The best place to cast for prawns is right under the jetty so Bob lies on his stomach and reaches out from the third step and casts in hope … success – a good haul of live juicy large prawns … step one is complete. The prawns go into the bucket with water from the river and the battery operated aerator is switched on to keep them alive for the night’s adventure.

High tide is due at half past midnight so Bob sets the alarm for midnight. When the iPhone alarm interrupts a dream it is a toss up as to return to the dream or get up in the cold and go fishing … never in doubt – fishing it is.

Fortunately there is a street light at the end of the jetty so Bob pops a juicy live prawn on the hook and casts towards the area where all the flathead were theoretically waiting to pounce. 5 .. 10 .. 15 .. 20 minutes later – not a sausage ! Bob was determined to get a flathead so another 25 minutes go by … without any interest shown by the potential prey.

It is now about 1:30 am and Bob wanders to the end of the jetty and tries casting out for anything that may be around … luckily he manages to bag a feed of River Jewfish – nowhere as exciting as the flathead that was the original potential prize. But hang on a moment … what is that swirl Bob notices immediately below him not 2 metres away ? It can’t be ? Surely not ? There is a school of garfish swimming just off the jetty and a much larger fish is showing interest in them. Could it be ? Maybe a b.b.b.barra?

Quickly Bob chooses the largest, most lively and juiciest live prawn from the bait bucket, mounts it carefully on the hook and lowers it 18 inches in front of the dark shape casually swimming below. The shape shows interest but then backs away. A slight shake of the rod and … WHACK … all hell breaks loose as the barra inhales the prawn amid a huge splash of water.

Bob’s pacemaker works its miracles and manages to keep the heartrate below 250 ! Now the battle begins. The barra knows that salvation lies in the many snags that lie 3 metres below the jetty. Bob knows this also and  panic sets in. Now is not the time to think about the knots that were tied in haste … would they hold ? … nor to worry about not having a landing net to help get the barra to dry land.

After some time, the barra was landed but not before it gave a last jump just as Bob grabbed the nylon fishing line … not the best idea as Bob’s bandaged finger will now bear witness to. But the barra was finally landed successfully and hauled back to the caravan. Siobhan did not know what was happenning when Bob woke her up with the immortal words ‘Come and look what I’ve got’.

After a sleepless night Bob wandered over to the filleting area with the prized barra and may have walked quite slowly passed a few other fishermen just in case they might miss what he was carrying. One of our neighbours, Ray, an experienced barra man, kindly helped Bob with the filleting process and even showed him how to cut the barra ‘wings’ (some people swear they are the beat part of the fish) which were enjoyed for lunch the following day. The rest of the barra is divided up into portions that will give us at least 5 good dinners of the finest eating fish in Queensland.

As a final note to this tale … there was a queue of fishermen who all set their alarms for the high tide the following night – without success !!