going for the ghoti*

In May, 2004, I had occasion, and opportunity to travel up to Kununurra in the far North-west corner of Australia. The occasion was the 60th reunion for the veterans and relatives of those who built, flew from, or had links to the "Top Secret" Airbase up that way. Very little is known about it even today, but that story will have to wait for a later post.

Kununurra is the gateway to the Kimberleys, service town for the mighty Ord River Irrigation scheme and Argyle Diamond mine.

Every year the Argyle diamond mine is responsible for producing more than a third of the world's total annual supply of diamonds. The average annual production now totals over 35 million carats.

The Argyle diamond mine yields approximately 45 per cent near gem quality, and 50 per cent industrial quality diamonds. The remaining 5 per cent is made up of gem quality diamonds and yields the rare and highly valued pink diamonds, as well as the range of sparkling champagne and rich cognac diamonds.

Allowing only a week to see and experience this magnificent section of the continent, on a Saturday I flew from Adelaide to Perth, then by Qantaslink to Kununurra. It still seems strange that while the gummint insists the the 'terrorists' cannot change local attitudes and policy, airport 'security' was such that I had a teeny pair of nail scissors confiscated, while a case full of jewellers screwdrivers was allowed - these are much larger, and sharper than the scissors. Was also pulled aside and made to empty my camera case, as the 'x-ray' showed a 'suspicious' object. I told them it was a tripod, but.. Oh well, no accounting for beaurocracy, I guess.

The funniest bit was when I arrived in Perth, went outside for a cigarette .. then had to go through the whole process again to get back in. (they didn't take the screwdrivers there, either. One wonders, really wonders, whether all these restrictions that penalise ordinary, law abiding blokes like me .. and have no effect on a determined and intelligent individual intent on creating mayhem .. are valid) erk!

Having a day or two spare I thought 'well .. ya can't come all this way to the home of the mighty Barramundi and not have a go.'

Scientific Name: Lates calcarifer
Common names: Barrumundi, Giant Perch.

Barramundi are protoandrous hermaphrodites: they start life as males, reaching maturity at around 3 to 4 years of age and later change gender and become females, usually at around age 5. Small fish are almost exclusively male with the percentage of females increasing with overall length.

L.calcarifer has a very extensive range in tropical and semi-tropical areas of the Indo-Pacific. Its distribution extends from the Persian Gulf to southern China and southwards to the northern Australia. Within Australia its range extends from the Mary and Maroochy River systems in south-east Queensland northwards around the entire northern coast to Shark Bay in Western Australia.

So, with the Barra dream of every Australian worth his salt in mind, went to the Tourist Office on the Monday and made enquiries. They gave me several brochures, but no advice. Umm, think I, then made tracks for the nearest Pub. Y' know how it goes .. "G'day, who's the best Barra guide in town? Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit..". After about six conversations, and much differing advice - counted up the votes, and found that Macka's Barra Camp came out 4:2.

O.K... rang the number, found that there was one spot available the next day (Tuesday), and booked a spot on a day trip.

(Pasted from his web site, I take no responsibility for the spelling or grammar)
Mackas Barra Camp has become an institution when it come to big barra in the Kimberley. In fact one of Mackas specialty is catching the extra big meter plus Barramundi. Now even experienced Barramundi anglers can go a lifetime without cracking the magic meter long mark, yet at Maccas many such anglers have achieved this goal in one trip.

One of the strengths of Macca and his team of guides is that they ensure no effort is spared to see that you have a most exciting days fishing.

Macca picks you up at Kununurra and soon after you are fishing aboard his 6 meter long craft which is specially designed for barra fishing and includes all first class tackle and associated gear.

As the name suggest, Maccas Barra Camp it is not only day trips, you can stay overnight and extend your trip for several days or more.

For more information call 08 9169 1759 or check out Macka's Barra camp

So, was duly picked up from Kununurra backpackers at 6.00am by Macka in a rather battered Toyota Troupie containing three other 'hopefuls'.

It is always a risk, taking a trip into the 'unknown'. They could have been hoons from the 90's, buuut, found myself in company with three similar age nutcases. Merv; life of the party, always with a comment, quip, quote or joke. Brian; quiet, reserved. Michael, likewise.

The bitumen disappeared about halfway into the hour and a half trip, through a gate, then bumped and tossed our way to the "camp".

One of the interesting things about some buildings in the 'Top end' is their impermanence. There are two seasons .. the "wet", and the "dry". The "dry" lasts for about nine months, and the "wet" IS. While cyclones are not all that frequent, the general attitude is "why build anything permanent, when most likely will have to build it again next year".

So, we arrived at the camp, and were introduced to Andy, our 'guide:driver:cook:mechanic:expert in pretty well everything.' (there are always 'dream' jobs, somewhere.. as Cher says ".. if I could turn back time.. ")

A fast zoom down the Ord river until Andy decided that it was 'bait time'. Barra will take anything, but generally prefer live bait. These are called 'popeye mullet'

Another fast zoom down toward the estuary, where Andy decided on a 'likely' spot. We moored, were instructed in the intricacies of 'bait casting' with this particular reel. (I had been used to a Penn 500, and these, while similar, are tinsy and tricksy).

After several trial casts resulting in over-runs, patiently sorted out by Andy, we settled down to anticipation.

Ten minutes later, there was a quiet pull on my line, and watched it travel out into the centre of the stream. ?? think I. Then penny dropped, and heaved upward.

Barra are fighting fish. It breached, thrashed its head from side to side, determined to rid itself of this annoyance. It dived, swam toward the boat and away, breached again. At all times one must keep tension on the line; at all times, anticipate .. let it run .. pull it back.

After twenty minutes, it was close enough to have a net underneath, and lifted onboard.

It was a mighty tussle, and at the end of it I was shaking like a leaf in an autumn wind. This fish was 1.1 metres, and a female, so was required to return it to the water.

It was, in retrospect, an anti climax. Try as he might, Andy could not find another fish. This was the only fish landed that day. From 9am until dusk we searched. Proving once again that wild fish are .. well .. wild. there are no guarantees in nature.

It was, however, a magnificent day, and thoroughly enjoyed by everybody.











(* OK, am pretend smart arse. 'ghoti' can be pronounced 'fish'. Ah the marvels of the english language. The word is an invention by Bernard Shaw. The clues are "rough, women, nation" (hey, don't blame me, just the way the sequence pans out). Have taken 5 days to produce this post, and am still struggling with the format .. but have decided to just click "send". sorry about that, practicality supercedes technical ablility and patience).
Davo