FISHING AND FUN AT 80 MILE (15 - 18 MAY)

80 Mile Beach is all about fishing.  And for those who don't wet a line, well, it's long walks on the beach, craft meetings, reading, relaxing or whatever. The one thing which is not advised here is swimming. The threadfin salmon which draw masses of hopeful anglers to this beach every year are just as appealing to the patrolling sharks of the area, and these include tigers and bull sharks.....both particularly nasty predators.

And here, the tide is everything. Within a day of our arrival we knew exactly when the tide was rising without any reference to the charts....two hours before high tide the park becomes a hive of activity. It is time to go fishing...the only time to go fishing.

And, as you can see from this aerial shot, courtesy of '101bestbeaches.com', for those staying at the 80 Mile Beach caravan park, there is not far to go.

The oasis which is this park is located right on the edge of the ocean, with only a low dune separating the two.

An access road at the southern end of the caravan park makes reaching the sands easy for those with 4WD's or the very useful quad bike. 

Many sortie for miles along the beach. Others just walk over the dunes from the park. With an hour and a half to high tide the first starters were already beginning to line up

 

in both directions. These were but the early birds we saw as we began a long walk south along the shore. The tide still had some distance to rise, but with movements of up to 9 metres, this does happen quickly.

The 4WD's were beginning to invade the sands as we strolled south.

Some clearly consider that there is no need whatsoever to sacrifice personal comfort whilst awaiting the scream of line off the reel and a bucking rod tip. Nothing like a deck chair on the beach.

Others, like our mate Bill, prefer to stand poised, neck arched and eyes glued on that tell-tale tip, ready to set the hook and haul in the catch,










but no matter the method, all are after the same result, a five whiskered threadfin (or white as they are known). This was the first of these fine table fish we had seen....not huge by all accounts, but a very acceptable fish nevertheless.

By this time we had covered a goodly kilometre or so along the gritty, shell strewn beach. It was time to turn back. The Matron was concerned about the effects of too much walking on my still far from healed toe, and the tide was very much on the flow in.







As we neared the pathway back to the caravan park, the few who had been lined up initially were now many. The tide was almost full. This is the time when the threadfin prowl up and down along the inshore gutters chasing small bait fish, many of which are attached to the hooks of all these hopefuls. 




Our mates were amongst them.  Bill's patient watch over his rod was to no avail....the bait on his hooks did not tempt anything in the water in front of him. 







Russell had more luck!  The only bragging rights this minnow afforded him was that no one could believe he caught it on the large hooks he was using....a decidedly troubled fish bent on suicide was the consensus! But Russell didn't care. As he cheerfully admitted he is not much into fishing and was really only keeping Bill company.  We believed him.






Although there were quite a few lined up at the water's edge, I should add at this point that the season was still young.....I was told that during its height, this patch of sand in front of the park can be literally 'shoulder to shoulder' with anglers, all chasing a good feed and a place of honour at the fish cleaning table.

A little further along the beach another trier had much more success than our mates. To the great chagrin of the many 'locals' who came home empty handed, this chap was a Dutch tourist who had no idea what he was doing really, but the fish didn't know that. In fact as we approached him he was flapping around in a panic....the five 'whiskers' which typify a white threadfin had him in a state...."Can I touch these?  Will they poison me?"


"No mate, just go for it, you have just caught a lovely supper...come on hold it up for a photo." This was as far as he could lift it....it was a very nice fish as we say. We actually caught up with him and his entourage later at the market when he reported that all had gone well and that he and his three companions had feasted heartily on this fine fish.





By now we had been on the beach for over an hour and the tide was on the ebb, fast. This stretch of wet sand below the high water mark had been exposed within the space of ten minutes.











And when it is low, it is low!  The water here can recede for up to nearly a kilometre on spring tides.






So now you understand why the fishing activity here at 80 Mile is a daily frenzy of activity for about two hours as the incoming tide brings the fish within casting range, but not for long. Of course this does leave the rest of the day free for other activities, much of which involves the snapping of can tops, rig preparation and yarn spinning. Just my sort of place!




Despite its isolation, 80 Mile Beach is subject to very close scrutiny at this time of the year. The local fisheries officers patrol daily on their quad bikes. They will typically cover forty or fifty kilometres, stopping frequently to either check the catches of the lucky ones, or, as was the case here, just chew the fat generally about conditions and catch rates. As coincidence would have it, this particular chap was a good mate of the 'fisho' who had camped behind us at Horrocks Beach many weeks previously. We had a good chat, much to my mates' surprise. "Is there anyone in WA you haven't met, Marshie?"  








For today, with the water racing back out seaward, the fishing was over and it was time for the 80 Mile market, a weekly event promoted and heavily supported by the 80 Mile Beach fund raising group who operate out of a large shipping container throughout 'the season'.

And although this was just at its beginning, a good number of stalls appeared on the sward. We were told that this was about half of what we could expect later in the year, but it did seem a good start.

There were many of the usual suspects

including a few of those who visit here annually and spend their 'spare' time making and selling fishing rigs, home made sinkers and all sorts of similar bits and pieces. Not a bad way to augment the holiday income!

One of the more interesting for me was this pitch from which the owner was offering jewellery made from WA zebra stone which is mined almost exclusively just east of Kununurra (as we later discovered).

It is a fascinating rock, but did not hold sufficient appeal to part either of us with our coin of the realm.

And what's a market without a travelling minstrel or two or three?  The boys were at it again, set up behind the large donation bucket for the Flying Doctor Service... singing and playing well enough to attract a large number of donations,

and, of course, a clutch of their adoring 'groupies' (excluding the bloke in the singlet....

he might feel somewhat miffed to be put in that category!)

There was one member of the audience who did not seem as impressed as the rest of us. This wandering perenti stopped but briefly before resuming his quest for a tasty bite or two (much to the relief of your scribe who enjoys what could be best described as a tenuous relationship with all creatures that slither, slide or scuttle).

This wonderful day came to an equally delightful end. All our park friends, old and new, gathered in the Boyce's 'beer garden' to bid us farewell.

Over a few drinks and yarns the group extracted our solemn promise to return in 2017 for at least three weeks. After the four days we had enjoyed here, why would we not.....and I'll at last have a chance to nab a threadfin.

No stay at 80 Mile is complete without one evening spent on the dunes with a chilled glass and camera poised to capture the sun setting over the Indian Ocean. This was the evening.

The empty beach was glowing in the pastel twilight as the sun sank lower and lower,

and, as we soon saw, who needs a 'stairway to the moon'?  We had our own stairway to the sun!

As we wandered back to our digs with the park palms silhouetted against the sunset's afterglow, we were content with our lot and more than happy we had been persuaded to visit 80 Mile Beach.

Broome now awaits our attention, a mere 350 kms distant to the north-east.....for me another adventure on my 'bucket list'. Tomorrow will see us there.