The Largest Fish of the Day!

Wednesday, 20 July 2023: The Largest Fish of the Day!

Such a beautiful morning with quite a bit of high cloud and a little breeze. I was on the tender just before 6am sailing around a largish island at low tide. Tides in this region can shift by 6-8 meters, and it’s important to take these into account when we’re arriving and leaving locations.

Terns flew by their wings out wide, while fish “jumped” across the sea in a straight line, with their dorsal fins sticking up in the air. I realised that I’d been missing seeing wildlife – it will be great to see more.

Back on Reef Prince for breakfast, it was time to get psyched for our first fishing trip. As you know, I have essentially no experience fishing, but since others were only too happy to help, I thought “why not”! If all else failed, I would have my camera and could photograph the others trying their luck.

So, with Brook and three very experienced and knowledgeable fishermen/women, and two with some familiarity, we motored to a spot that apparently looked good. Darryl handed me a fishing rod, baited and ready to go, and showed me how to let the line out and to detect when it was on the bottom. Darryl and Trudy have been fishing forever.

We were not casting, just dropping our lines over the side of the boat. Tracy was the first to catch something – a nice Fingermark (type of snapper), followed soon after by a small Black Tipped Reef shark. It was fascinating to see this beautiful looking shark relatively close up, although I couldn’t bring myself to touch it.

I felt a nibble, checked my bait and found that something had munched it away.

Suddenly, Dave’s rod and line “screamed,” and he started reeling in a big fish, a trevally. He was working very hard to bring it in; the rod was bent over the side of the boat. Then silence – it had bitten through the line and disappeared into the depths taking the hook, bait, line and sinker with it. We moved to a new area and reset our baits over the side. Darryl commented that we really needed something that would have “its tail over the edge of the bucket” that the caught fish were lying in.

I was enjoying the sun, sitting on the seat that runs around the inside edge of the boat, the gentle lapping of the water against the hull adding to my relaxed mode. Then I felt: “tug, tug, tug”, the line went taught and the rod bent over. I tried to start reeling it in – it was heavier than I expected and was fighting hard. Keep in mind that I’ve only ever successfully fished once before, from a Zodiac in the Canadian Great Bear Rainforest area – and we threw that fish back in – this was a new experience.

Brook was by my side, ready to grab the fish when it came to the surface. I pulled and pulled, and finally reeled it in close enough for Brook to grab it – it was also a Black Tipped Reef shark. And it was quite a bit larger than Tracy’s – the tail definitely hung out over the side of the bucket!

I had caught my very first Aussie fish!

Once I knew it wasn’t moving, I became brave enough to touch it – the skin felt quite tough, a little like suede. And when rubbed “the wrong way” (from back to front), it was coarse.

We moved away from the sharks, and I dropped the line with new bait, over the side. Soon I felt another “tug, tug, tug” and started using all my strength and weight to bring this one to the surface. It was heavier than the shark, and I really wondered how I was going to bring it in. Brook was right there again, wielding the big hook to grab the fish.

As we looked over the side, I saw … just for a moment … a large, ferocious trevally. Then it bit through the line and was gone.

Soon after we turned back towards Reef Prince. It had been a fun few hours, and I was quite chuffed that I’d actually caught something. After dinner Brook announced that across all three boats, we had caught about $500 worth of fish, and that mine was the largest of the day. How about that!

GG said that he’d start cooking them tomorrow … fish and chips, well, “poisson et frites”!

The afternoon excursions were either a walk to “The Lost City”, an area well off the shore that required significant climbing, or a scenic “cruise” in one of the tenders along a waterway. I opted for the latter, and saw more of the amazing rock formations that are so much a part of this area.

Thursday, 21 July 2023: First Light

What a wonderful day this was.

We had travelled through much of the night before the anchor was dropped at Manaring Island at around 3am. I woke early, grabbed my camera and was out on the bow at 5:45am, just in time for first light. I was the only person out there and enjoyed a very special 15 minutes or so before others appeared.

We were anchored north-south at this end of the inlet, with north ahead of me. The sky above me was dark, and the sun wouldn’t rise for another 20 minutes or so. To the west and east escarpments rose high above us, filled with blocks and ridges of Kimberley rock. Mangroves lined the bottom areas with a “beach” of mud leading to the water, a perfect place for crocs to lie in wait as the tide rose over the next few hours.

Even though the sun wouldn’t rise above the eastern escarpment (on my right) for at least an hour, the first tinge of light in the sky lit up the escarpment to my left, its rich red-orange colours glowing. Birds were singing noisily – we hadn’t heard them for a few days, and it was wonderful to have their songs fill the air. Intriguingly, as the sun rose, the bird songs quietened, and the glow on the rocks dissipated.

After breakfast we were in the tenders, touring the waterway, starting near the boat, before moving towards the other end of the inlet. I was on the lookout for birds – and birds we found.

With Jackson skippering our tender, we moved slowly along the shoreline and came across a small croc in the shallow water and shadows, near a striated heron. They seemed unaware of each other, or maybe the bird was fully aware and ready to fly off if the croc approached.

We crossed towards the shore on the other side. A white breasted sea eagle flew above us and away. Then it turned and came back towards us, its wings spread wide as it used the updrafts to soar – such a magnificent bird.

With 15 minutes until we needed to be back at the boat, Jackson steered us along an inlet to see what we might find. Leo, in the 2nd tender, remained close behind. A striated heron flitted from branch to branch, and mud frogs manoeuvred around in the muddy edges near the water.

Then all too soon, it was time to head back to our floating home.