Australia Visit - Day 11 - BarraPaulLooza 7

After the big night out we were all slow out of bed (got back at 5:30am). Noon well and truly rolled by and we slept through it. Later, we found out the lady at the caravan park had tried to wake us to let us know that some really good morning glory cloud formations were rolling in, ut we didn't stir. We finally all crawled up at about 1:30pm. Paul and I zoomed out to Escott to check and re-bait the pots. He’d filleted his small king salmon (Cooktown Salmon) and the leftovers filled the pots. The final pot had an absolute monster in it. When we got back we got in and sorted our gear out a bit before Paul whipped up the fresh salmon. Absolutely nothing wrong with that stuff I’ll tell you. It definitely tasted better than barra and had a really white, flakey flesh. Apparently it doesn’t freeze well but I would be hard to beat fresh. Paul and mum skipped over to the shop and bought a few things and then it was time to head back over to the “mud-hole” that we’d now renamed the “shithole” on account of two of us now having fringed it’s banks with a case of the squirts. We got there about 5:30pm.

Now that's a big cherabin which is a whole lot of YUM

Despite what appeared to be a favorable tide and dusk occurring conveniently during the first big push of the tide, we didn’t have a run. I may be a little mistaken, as there might be a small catfish in there, but certainly there was nothing memorable. The night was significantly different from the night before. The previous night had been breezy during the afternoon and the wind dropped off as the sun went down. The air was clear and low in humidity and the milky way and a full collection of stars was visible across the sky from horizon to horizon until the moon began to rise. Because of the wind and subsequent dust, the sunset had been very red and spectacular as it dipped below the mangroves that obscured our view of the horizon. This evening however, started quite still and an eerie breeze began after the sun set, which kept the sand-flies at bay. The air was somewhat heavier and distant lightning was flashing away to the west and north. Whereas the night before had quite a flurry of splishes and sploshes intermingled with the odd booff of a barra across the creek surface, this night was noticeably quieter. It just felt very different. When 9:10 rolled by we headed back to the donga for some fantastic pork chops and noodles. I know I've said this a lot but the food on this trip was fantastic. After the meal we rested up a little for a few hours before jumping in the rig to head back out to Escott.

Paul getting a grocery list together before cooking up yet another brilliant meal

The first sighting of Escott wasn’t inspiring. We planned to hit it because the larger tide had the potential to move water up to the causeway (something noticeably absent on our trip so far). Unfortunately, the water was barely higher than we’d seen it all week. We decided to sit and watch for a while, and flung out a couple of cherabin on hooks to nurse while we waited. The tide evidently was coming in and was soon gushing in. Bait was nervously sploshing around everywhere and things looked very good. It wasn’t long before Paul’s reel went off but it was only a small catfish. In my usual way I was shining the torch around scouting for croc eyes (they reflect red in the torch beam) and the usual suspects were lying about in the usual places, but I noticed one zooming in at a fast rate of knots. He kept coming in towards the northern end of the causeway with the torch on him, then turned went a small distance then submerged. He turned facing towards us and I noticed the distance between his two eyes was quite large, not a good sign. Anyway, once submerged he was lost to us. Dad was flicking away with lures when my reel screamed off. I grabbed it and set the hook. The fish kept going and I saw a boil as the fish passed a submerged snag then my line went limp. Bait, hook, trace and sinker were gone.

My heart was still pumping with adrenaline when I heard a scraping noise down from us on the causeway. I grabbed the torch and instantly summoned the others. A big croc (probably close to 12 feet) was clambering from the saltwater to the freshwater side. We ran to get closer and got a few photos before it slipped down the rocks and out of sight. That certainly got us a bit excited and jumpy but was quite a sight to behold. The hours ran on and we scored on a couple more catfish (and even they weren’t biting aggressively) but nothing exciting. The storms in the distance were slowly closing the gap as the moon slowly headed west across the path of stars, falling stars and satellites giving proof that time wasn’t standing still as we laid gazing towards the heavens.

A big croc that had just dragged itself across the causeway - right past us

In the night stillness we suddenly heard something way upstream. A lot of water was being thrashed around accompanied by croc calls. There would be splashing for a few seconds and then be quite for a bit, then more of the same. This went on for a few minutes and then subsided. We figured it was either two crocs fighting or a croc getting into a cow. It stopped as suddenly as it began and the quiet stillness of the wee hours enveloped us. Eventually, Paul decided to throw a bait over on the freshwater side of the causeway and was quickly rewarded with a run. It was a catfish. A few minutes later another run, and although it never hooked up it was almost certainly a catfish also. The bait was repositioned in close to a big paperbark tree. We didn’t have to wait long and the bait was smacked. Paul ran over and the fish was on. Although initially skeptical it might be another catfish a silver form thrashing above the water soon let us know a barra was the culprit. He was a spirited fish but probably around 45-50cm. It certainly lifted Paul and my spirits but the old man had since retired to the rig for some shut-eye. That buoyed our spirits enough to check a few more pots and have three lines out there but apart from another catfish nothing else came to hand. As the sun popped up we were headed back to town into a developing thunderhead. Perhaps this storm buildup is the final peg to switching the fish on but we’re feeling the clock is running down and if it doesn’t happen soon it won’t happen. We were in bed by 6:30am. The croc encounter definitely made the night worthwhile. That was a very cool experience!