We returned to the scene of the crime, hopeful
we would be getting into the same sort of light
tackle trouble as 12 months before. This time
we were better prepared, armed with beefed up
4-7kg sports spinning gear and short heavy action
6-10kg barra bait-casters. Rumours were
spreading that there was barra in them there
creeks, and one was going to be ours.
Last year around this time I wrote about a highly
successful trip I had with my brother into the lost
world hidden within the vast Exmouth Gulf. Local
guide and good mate Jim Alston runs safari fishing
camps based on Wilderness Island, almost 30
nautical miles directly east of the Exmouth Marina. He
had invited us up to experience the amazing fishing
on offer in the numerous mangrove creeks and tidal
flats surrounding his little patch of paradise. Last year
we had our light tackle tails whipped furiously by bad
mannered jacks, then got totally embarrassed by
having our pants pulled fully down by good size
malabar grouper. It wasnt going to happen again this
year. No sirre.
Jim has developed a very comfortable base camp
designed around environmental and sustainable
principles. This might sound strange for a fishing
camp set up to catch fish and presumedly kill them.
Kane Moyle mentioned in his August article that
Recfishwest are developing a policy for wilderness
fishing areas which aims to ensure their long term
sustainability, by making them largely catch and
release or consume on site. Effectively its banning
freezer fillers from pristine areas worthy of protection.
Jim has similar views and believes that its his
responsibility to have as little impact as possible on
this very special place. By having a conservative
outlook, he is guaranteeing his clients world class
sport fishing in a very remote place, largely untouched
by other people. This place is a piscatorial jewel,
suppling nursery areas for an amazing amount of
different species too numerous to list.
You dont just get to fish either. You can sit around
the wide deck perched on the cliff face at base camp,
watching anything from whales, dugongs, feeding
porpoises to majestic ospreys, going about their
business below. With raised safari tent style sleeping
arrangements fitted out with comfortable traditional
swags, its just a matter of waking up and rolling
over to watch the mornings sun slowly illuminate the
beach below.
Rumours had been filtering south of anglers catch
and releasing estuarine barramundi not far from Jims
camp. And Jim fuelling the rumour by swearing on
the phone late one night, that he had seen one while
snorkelling the creeks. Scary thing to do, assuming
that big whaler sharks prefer an easy meal. Others we
talked to about the possibility of barra being caught
so far south insisted we were dreaming, as the water
wasnt hot enough. Apparently we had a better chance
catching a fairy in the bottom of the garden, than
getting a barramundi south of the Ashburton River.
Well we were back to look for ourselves. We not only
had gone heavier with the spin gear, (we were
kidding ourselves last year with the bream sticks on
jacks) tackle bags had been stuffed with 80 and 100lb
fluorocarbon leader. Plus a lot more hard bodied
minnow lures in bigger sizes, like 90cm redheaded
Halco Scorpions, 120 Lazer Pros and gold Bombers
As to toss with the barra gear.
The first thing Jim said to me when we met on Friday
night at the pub was the water is really cold at the
moment, just 16°, even the jacks have stopped taking
lures Well any wild dreams that we might get into a
mythical Gulf barra from that moment on was left in
the slops tray. The water was colder than in Perth!
After a slow sore start and some final shopping at
Bluewater Tackle, we made off from the marina for the
Eastern Gulf. Not having much confidence of sight
fishing the cool creeks with lures for even a jack, we
started to compile a Plan B. This time around Jim
suggested we explore much further north from Tent
Island, into unsurveyed waters littered with oyster
covered rocky islands and hidden shallow reefs
splatter with small patches of coral. My paper chart
and the Navman GPS plotter on the boat both showed
no-mans land, just the sort or stuff we got excited
about. Hopefully the water was a bit warmer too.
We headed north east to towards Rivoli Islands to
scout the place out as it was marked just inside the
southern edge of the unsurveyed area shown on our
maps. The tide was rapidly dropping so we had no
time to waste. We took notice that the large exposed
bomboras seemed to be mainly concentrated on the
north side of the small rocky islands. This is where the
big fish would be at high tide the next morning,
feeding amongst the marine life which called these
shallow coral patches home. Plan B was hatched, so
it was on to camp to dump the stuff, burn a chop and
chill for the evening before the big day.
After awakening to the squawks of the resident
ospreys, we brewed a coffee while cooking our bacon
and eggs. Sitting on the deck watching the tide come
in, we could see huge shimmering sheets of baitfish
bursting out of the water, making us all stop mid
mouthful. No we werent going to be lured into pulling
out the light gear to do battle with the school mackerel
chasing them. We were already committed, wondering
what bigger fair was cruising around those bomboras
up behind the islands.
The gulf stayed glassy and finally we had enough
water to get going towards the islands for a prowl
around. Arriving we confirmed the location of the
biggest coral bommies, before the tide covered them
completely and the predators moved in.
Quietly motoring up to the lumps for a closer look, we
couldnt believe our eyes as a huge bluebone of at
least 5kgs dashed out from under a concealed ledge
less than 3 metres below. In the blink of an eye Jim
had a Scorpion splashing down in its general
direction. It came back into view to sniff the lure, only
to shy then hit the afterburner back into reef. Bring it
on baby!
Taking Jims lead, we tossed our shallow running lures
toward the giant coral lumps. Justin plonked one over
the corner of a lump, quickly digging the lure in to get
it working. Got a touch! called Jim, already into his
third retrieve. Bugger! Ive snagged already, came
from Justin as he stepped back taking up weight.
Hang on...what the...! Ping went the string and
every thing went limp, setting the score early at zero
us, presumedly reef one.
Bet it was a barra mate offered a grinning Jim, as he
started on another rapid retrieve. Ignoring the
comment, I chucked the pink and purple Laser Pro,
letting it land right on top of reef. A couple of turns
of the handle and I came up tight with something
grumpy. After a spirited fight up came what I thought
was a fair size cod. Bloody baby mate, have you
Perth blokes forgotten what a good fish feels like?
whipped Jim, as I gently released the cod.
Not long later Justin cursed; he was snagged again
helplessly tugging on what seemed like a lifeless rock.
But this rock was moving, not far nor fast, just steadily
downward. The Calcutta gave braid with ease, which
wasnt really ideal in this country if he expected any
chance of extracting what was hooked on the end. We
werent anchored so Justins desperate retrieve on the
dead weight, only dragged the boat closer to the reef.
Then all hell broke loose! It was off, realising that it
was pinned in the mouth with a plastic fish; this brute
was having nothing of coming aboard for a quick
picture. It went hard pulling just as fiercely back on
the other end as Justin, making it impossible to keep
his foe way from the rough stuff. At one stage Justin
thought he had been rock wrapped, so gave the fish
some clutch, only to have to give more string under
full drag a few moments later. In the rocky, oyster
crusted cover he miraculously stayed attached and
eventually landing a cracker cod well over the
maximum size limit for the species.
With grins all round we repositioned the boat so as to
again drift along the edge of the shallow bommies. For
the next few hours we managed to catch more
magnificent size cod, plus a host of others. It was
great catching so many different species
including Spanish flag, red throat, golden trevally,
bream, bluebone, black snapper and mackerel. And
all - except for a nice bluebone kept for dinner, were
safety released to fight another day.
Justin ended up pulling another couple of thumper
cod during the week on his baitcaster, all over the
magic meter mark. Not barra but just as impressive on
big minnow lures in shallow water.
Fishing has myths and legends, stories told by anglers
to other anglers. The Gulf barra myth is still to be
busted by us, but if you think you might like to give
it a go call Jim on 0409 430 688. If you dont catch
a barra, the cod fishing out at Jims place is stuff of
legends.
Wilderness Island
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