I’ve moved an hour-and a half north to a small cluster of shacks called Chinaman Wells, where I’ve rented an ‘instagram-friendly’ shack on the beach. It was a great place to watch a thunderstorm roll down the coast, but the shallow flats along the coast here offered little in the way of fishing. Well, for my experience and equipment at least.
I pack up the car and set off down a long gravel road, heading north towards Port Hughes.
I get a quick photo of a ‘sleepy lizard’, one of many which blocked my way.
The road passes along the boundary of the lands of the Aboriginal Narungga people. The rusty sign against the blue skies was simply stunning.
Port Hughes
I’ve fished the jetty at Port Hughes a few times before on a previous trip. On those occasions, we float-fished for tommy ruff and garfish from dusk till dark. Today, I’m arriving mid-afternoon; very sunny but windy. Killer sunburn conditions. I cover up any exposed skin and head out onto the jetty.
I’m sticking with the same tackle and techniques: small hooks, cockle bait, fished straight down the side.
I hook into a small fish. Please, let this not be another brownspotted wrasse. As I reel it up to the boardwalk level, I see it arching like a sandeel. Clearly a different species. I take the catch in hand and wander down the jetty to my nearest neighbour. “Weedy Whiting” he tells me. “You can’t eat it”.
I catch a couple more of these small fish. Large rays frequently swim past. Hooking one of these would mean instant loss of my light tackle. My pack of cockles is rapidly diminishing. The hooks are coming up empty. I can’t tell if this is due to small fish nibbling or the action of tide on the soft bait.
I head back down the jetty to the car. My partner suggests I try Moonta Bay, which also has a jetty, just a short distance away. Initially, I’m reluctant. I figure the fishing will be much the same. She persuades me otherwise. I’m glad she does.
Moonta Bay
I dangle my bait into the very clear water, over some rocks. I can see fish are immediately interested in the cockle. A tommy ruff grabs the bait, spins in several fast circles….and throws the hook. Disappointed. That was a good specimen and my other half loves this fish, fried and served on toast. I persevere and land a couple. As I take a picture of my prize catch, I’m subject to some good-natured ribbing from passers by. “Weigh it” they suggest. Hmm.
I see a portly shape make for my bait. I hook it and swing it up onto the deck. It’s clearly some kind of puffer-fish. Disappointingly it didn’t do its inflation party trick. Just looked at me with its bulbous eyes, as if to say “You know I’m poisonous. I know you’re going to throw me back. Why bother puffing myself up?”I later identify this species as a weeping toadfish. That was the nickname of a Neighbours character wasn’t it?
My stash of cockles is nearly empty. With some of my last bait, I see what looks like a fat tomato waddle towards the hook. It takes the hook and I reel in a very exotic looking creature. I’m guessing (correctly) as some kind of cowfish, later identified as the Ornate Cowfish, Aracana ornata.
Total Catch:
- 3 Blue Weed-Whiting
- 2 Tommy Ruff
- 1 Weeping Toadfish
- 1 Ornate Cowfish
A Fishing Diary 