4 things you must do in the NT
Picture it – Sicily 1913. So my stay here is nearly complete. According to my room mate there are 4 things that are required for anyone who visits the territory, here is a story about the completion of one of them.
So off I go for a trip to the bush for some fishing. 1.5hr trip in a 75 series (simply second class to the Patrol) then 30 mins on the trail bike. Legs cut to buggery from the grass we arrive at our destination – a creek. Unlike any other creek, this one had water, crocodiles and apparently (using this term very loosely) barramundi. As the beautiful specium that I am and wanting to retain my youthful good looks, I was standing on the bank applying sunscreen when my fishing partner, who is old and crusty, proceeded with the first cast of the day. Not even 5 seconds had passed when a 75cm barra takes his lure. Heckling from the bank to the girl putting on sunscreen who used rapid replies using the word “prick” in different sentence structures, in he winds this lovely looking silver barra. Excited that all the tall stories about this creek are true, I cast – nothing. So beginners luck was not on my side, that’s ok, cast again. Still nothing, move along the creek a bit, nothing. Crusty, gets on the bike to take his barra back, while I still fish – nothing. One even swam right in front of my feet so I put the lure right in front of him, he may have not had his caffeine intake like me and was a bit rusty – nothing. I could have stabbed the bugger with the rod.
Get on the bike and moved further down creek, scare a couple of crocs, do a couple of cast – nothing. Move again – nothing. Move again – nothing. Pattern forming hey…. Do a river crossing, crusty is on the bike so I have to walk it – nice one. Was that a floating log or something with teeth….. New spot, I took stance where we scared off a 3m fresh croc. Couple of casts – nothing. Move a bit – nothing. Crusty is moving along the bank as well, so I go back to where the croc was. Cast, cast, cast, nothing, nothing, nothing.
Then all of a sudden winding back in my perfected cast (no longer am I launching my lure into the trees) I get hit. It’s on for young and old. Winding in, its my first barra. All very excited I am yelling out to crusty – I got one, I got one!
Then remembering the cut on crustys hand that resulted from his barra, I was yelling WHERE’S THE SHARP BIT
Crusty – mumble mumble
WHERE
Mumble
THE SHARP BIT
Mumble
THE SHARP BIT WHERE IS IT…..ARGH F@#K.....NEVER MIND, I FOUND IT
For all those who are not educated with the barramundi, they have some really sharp bits on them and a spiky thing as well. My barra (only 35cm long, under size so was released) sliced my finger open – blood everywhere. Instant karma
This is Kim Dundee reporting from the Territory
So off I go for a trip to the bush for some fishing. 1.5hr trip in a 75 series (simply second class to the Patrol) then 30 mins on the trail bike. Legs cut to buggery from the grass we arrive at our destination – a creek. Unlike any other creek, this one had water, crocodiles and apparently (using this term very loosely) barramundi. As the beautiful specium that I am and wanting to retain my youthful good looks, I was standing on the bank applying sunscreen when my fishing partner, who is old and crusty, proceeded with the first cast of the day. Not even 5 seconds had passed when a 75cm barra takes his lure. Heckling from the bank to the girl putting on sunscreen who used rapid replies using the word “prick” in different sentence structures, in he winds this lovely looking silver barra. Excited that all the tall stories about this creek are true, I cast – nothing. So beginners luck was not on my side, that’s ok, cast again. Still nothing, move along the creek a bit, nothing. Crusty, gets on the bike to take his barra back, while I still fish – nothing. One even swam right in front of my feet so I put the lure right in front of him, he may have not had his caffeine intake like me and was a bit rusty – nothing. I could have stabbed the bugger with the rod.
Get on the bike and moved further down creek, scare a couple of crocs, do a couple of cast – nothing. Move again – nothing. Move again – nothing. Pattern forming hey…. Do a river crossing, crusty is on the bike so I have to walk it – nice one. Was that a floating log or something with teeth….. New spot, I took stance where we scared off a 3m fresh croc. Couple of casts – nothing. Move a bit – nothing. Crusty is moving along the bank as well, so I go back to where the croc was. Cast, cast, cast, nothing, nothing, nothing.
Then all of a sudden winding back in my perfected cast (no longer am I launching my lure into the trees) I get hit. It’s on for young and old. Winding in, its my first barra. All very excited I am yelling out to crusty – I got one, I got one!
Then remembering the cut on crustys hand that resulted from his barra, I was yelling WHERE’S THE SHARP BIT
Crusty – mumble mumble
WHERE
Mumble
THE SHARP BIT
Mumble
THE SHARP BIT WHERE IS IT…..ARGH F@#K.....NEVER MIND, I FOUND IT
For all those who are not educated with the barramundi, they have some really sharp bits on them and a spiky thing as well. My barra (only 35cm long, under size so was released) sliced my finger open – blood everywhere. Instant karma
This is Kim Dundee reporting from the Territory
posted by Kim dundee at 1:10 PM
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