Five guys, 150+ beers, separate sleeping quarters for all, and one hilux surf. This was always going to be a tight squeeze.
We (that’s Matt, Kym, Dan M, and I) arrived at Harrys house around 9am, with the car already crammed full, and we still need to fit Harry in as well as his gear, BBQ and gas bottle included. Fit it in we did, with Harry making a last second dash inside to grab 12 cold beers. At 9:30am. "Who wants one?". Arrrgh.
The car struggled up the hill but slowly made it and we were on our way. A few hours later, and we're at the beginning of 42 mile crossing and airing down the tyres. We went on the beach for a few kms, up to about camp site 13 or there abouts, maybe a bit further. It didn't have a number on the post. The beach track was fairly easy going up until that point and no drama's were had. The track veered up behind the dunes at this point, but with a good gutter in front of us, we decided here was the spot to set up camp.
I finally got access to the fridge and cracked a beer open, sat in my chair, and laughed at Kym and Dan struggle with setting up their tents.
After cooking up some BBQ for lunch, the fishing begun!
I managed to pull a Mulloway, probably around 50 cm's before everyone had even managed to get their rods out to the beach. Not legal size, but good signs for the rest of the weekend. He dropped off the hook by himself, so I let it swim away on the next wave that came in and missed the photo here. Kym soon after hooked one for himself, damn small, but his first mulloway of any size. Now he joins the hunt for a keeper.
We didn’t have any room to bring firewood with us, but some nice campers had left two great big gum tree logs at our campsite. With darkness approaching, we quickly rounded up some small bits of driftwood to get a fire going and harry found more wood left over at a nearby unused campsite. As darkness set, we had a nice little fire raging right on the beach. A big wall of sand in front of it to keep the wind off it, and more importantly, not scare off the mulloway.
Then, Harry made a move he probably now regrets - bringing out the Stones. Before long he was performing some kind of fire dance ritual and making a huge stamp on the "drunkest of trip" award (which I just made up right then, and Harry did win).
Although our lines were out in the water well into the night, I don't think there was much attention being paid to them. They were probably just rolling around getting tangled up. We didn't catch anything at night anyway.
I woke up early followed shortly after by Matt. Harry was up but looking very green, and after a quick dash to the bushes for a technicolour yawn, he was back in the tent and off to sleep. Dan joined me and Matt on the beach shortly after, his hooks still holding an old squid bait from the previous night. He casted it straight in. We laughed and joked about how the only thing he's going to catch with that bait was a stingray. At this point, an important conversation took place. Matt asked me if a stingray would be leading the gashes (ahead of my own 3 undersize mulloways). I thought that if it was big enough then it would be. Matt said for sure it would. Five minutes later, and Dan's rod bends over and line starts peeling off. No shakes of the rod though.. A stingray for sure. I ran back to the car to grab the gaff, and by time I got back, a large ray was in the shallows. Matt landed the gaff into its wing and dragged him up the beach. New gashes leader.
We were working out how to drag it back in to the water when Dan suggests we cook it up. I'm guessing these things usually get thrown back because they aren't much good for eating, but I have heard of them being eaten before. I go to Kyms tent to ask if he knows anything about cooking sting ray… some kind of mumbled no was returned. He sounded worse than Harry (who was also still sleeping).
Dan set about carving up this sting ray into portions suitable for frying up on the BBQ. Hours later, one knife lost to sea, and another broken, he had some big chunks of meat ready for BBQ'ing. I wouldn't say they looked the most appetising.
Lunch time rolls around and the BBQ is fired up for some delicous sting ray cooking. Everyone (besides Harry - sleeping) has a sample and the decision to cook burgers is made. Stingray discarded to the dunes for some feral cats to no doubt enjoy.
Later in the afternoon, we noticed a guy 100 metres up the beach seemingly hooked on to something massive. He was fighting it for a good 10-15 minutes, man with a gaff by his side. He must've got tired arms, because they swapped roles at one point. Then 50 metres further, another guy was onto something massive.
We had the binoculars out having a squizz at what was going down, then the first guy just stopped, and walked back to his car - his line must have snapped. The other guy was still going hard though, and had his gaff man nearby, as well as a camera filming proceedings. I could see through the binoculars a large fish get into the shallows and splash around - the gaff man made his move but appeared to miss the fish.. Then seconds later, the rod has returned to its straight position and another fish has been lost! The fisherman must have been spewing at the gaff guy! Well that was entertaining for 30 minutes.
Harry did finally rise from the land of the dead and stumbled out to the beach around 4pm, looking suprisingly fresh, but I guess 16 hours sleep will do that. Credit to him, he cracked a new beer instantly. I doubt he would have been so fast on the stones though.
Another beach fire was on the cards, but with only minimal amounts of dead wood on the beach, it was never going to last long. That drift wood burns suprisingly long for how small it is though. Another night fishing session failure, and we headed back to camp to cook some late night snags.. And then at 10:41pm, Saturday November 15th, tragedy struck.. The fridge had one beer left in it. We decided Harry deserved it, and after that.. We had nothing to do, so hit our respective beds.
I rose around 6:45am and after relieving myself in the dunes, started fishing for the final morning, hoping to land something worthy of getting the gashes lead back. At 7:20am, I got some bites and hooked onto a fish.. Pulled in a mulloway approx 47cm, bringing my weekend tally to 4 mulloway.. Not deemed enough to beat the 12.5kg sting ray. I photo'd it just in case no one believed me :)
Everyone else eventually got up, but no more fish were caught. We packed everything in to the car, seemingly taking up even more room than on the way. Check out rear of the car hanging so low, and this is before 3 guys got into the back.
So, the final tally was:
Dan: 12.5kg Sting Ray
Ryan: 4 undersize mullies
Kym: 3 undersize mullies
People who go by the name Matt: Didily Squat.
The Gashes has a new name on it. The hunt for the silver ghost continues.
