Coorong - June 2006

Matt and I teamed up with Harry for the June long weekend, and took the trek down to the Coorong national park. Was some hairy 4wding to be done to reach our final camping spot, but we found an 'alternate path' which made things a bit easier.



I actually took that photo on the way home. I swear we didn't see it on the way in! We must have joined up with this track from another section. The alternative was traveling along the beach which was completely washed out - one of the worst conditions I've seen it.

We had to make a good setup with some forecast rain over the weekend, and we were pretty happy with this effort. It did blow down in the night, confirming our thoughts that perhaps a few more poles were needed next time! At least it stayed up as long as we were awake.



Credit to Harry for spending much time leveling out the "floor"

Finally, we got some lines in the water, and within half hour I hooked onto a nice pan hotplate sized salmon at 47cm. I was quietly happy to be leading the 'gashes'. Landing a fish that quick was a good sign and we expected to be pulling in loads. But nothing else was caught for the rest of day 1. Just after sunset we headed back to get a fire going and settle into to many beers, port and a bit of a feast of fish, chops, and burgers.. mmmm



Day 2 provided not a single fish. Matt looked to get a good bite, but couldn't place his beer down quick enough to go wind it in before it got off. I was hungover as hell that morning - damn Harry and his damn port. Had to sleep in a bit before hair of the dog finally cured me.

Day 3 we decided we'd head home around 12ish, and get in a bit of a morning fish. Around 9:30am Matt pulls in a salmon and we measure it to be exactly 47cm - the same size as my fish. We hadnt previously discussed what would happen in the event of a tied gashes, and it was looking very likely for awhile. I still don't know what we would've done, but later that morning about 30mins before heading off, Matt goes out to check his rod which he'd left planted in the sand to find it dancing around like mad. The bastard had hooked onto one whilst we were back at camp packing up. Yet another 47cm salmon, but now he was up 2-1 and the gashes were all his.



We pulled in the lines, threw em in the car and headed off home.