Tuesday 6 December 2016

Cape York

I’ve just come back from a fishing trip to Cape York and the fishing was pretty bloody amazing. Unfortunately, my camera died on the second day so some of the snaps aren't too crash, but luckily this place is so beautiful, it practically photographs itself.

So the trip started with a night in Cairns:


We arrived at the Continental hotel around midday and even though we had a week of solid fishing ahead of us, I was hangin' to wet a line. I rounded up a couple of troops, hired a car, and an hour later we were at a ripper little spot where I’ve caught plenty of jungle perch and sooties in the past:


It was as pretty as I remembered and first cast, I had a cute little sooty on the bank:


Nice. Over the next couple of hours we all managed a handful of sooties each, ranging from small:


To tiny:


To downright scary:


I’m not sure what was wrong with this poor fish - anyone got any ideas? Disease? Fungal infection? Zombie fish?


Whatever it was, it must have scared all the jungle perch away. But it really didn’t matter:


So after a restless night and a short flight, we finally landed in Cape York:


Our host for the week - ‘Bully’ from Bully’s fishing camp and boat hire - met us at the airport and took us to our accommodation in a little town called Bamaga, which is about 40km from the northernmost tip of Australia. Our rooms were extremely comfortable and the location was unreal (this was the view from our decking):


After unpacking our luggage Bully gave us a quick rundown of how the place worked. We had use of two 4WD’s and four boats – two 18 foot centre consoles for blue water work, and two 14 foot tinnies fitted with electric’s for the estuaries:


We were pretty much left to our own devices – we could take out as many boats as we wanted each day, and fish wherever we wanted. There were pro’s and con’s to this arrangement. We didn’t have a local guide fishing with us each day, which meant we definitely didn’t catch as many fish as we could have. But we had the independence and freedom to fish wherever we wanted, whenever we wanted. And any fish we did catch were so much more satisfying. Personally, I absolutely loved the arrangement.

We spent the first few days fishing the blue water. Our days alternated between trolling for mackerel:


Throwing little stickbaits and poppers on the shallow reefs for countless coral trout and other little reefies:


Popping for GT’s:


Pulling up for lunch on deserted beaches and catching small pelagics off the sand:


(with one eye always on the lookout for crocs):


Dropping jigs on schools of queenies and trevs:


More mackerel (with the odd dirty couta thrown in):


Dropping plastics in deeper water for bigger reefies (and other weird ooglies):


Swimming at deserted beaches:

 

Throwing slugs at schools of tuna:


Flicking lures in our own private lagoons:


And more bloody mackerel (including a few that didn’t make it to the boat):


Tough life aye? And if we got home early enough and we weren’t completely fished out, we could pop down to the local wharf at Seisia:


And catch endless little queenies and trevs on surface (good fun on bream gear):


There were SO many fish that I didn’t photograph, and the whole time I was cursing my broken camera, but you get the idea. It was brilliant. And after a long day on the water:


We were treated to fresh fish every night for dinner:


After having our fill of reefies and pelagics, dad and I spent the next couple of days in the Jacky Jacky River:


We had a blast casting at snags, catching a heap of different species including tarpon:


Jacks:


Little GT’s (check the colour variation):


Cod:


HEAPS of nice fingermark (we couldn’t get away from them):


And of course, Barra (although a all the bigger models eluded us):

 

And if the fish ever went a bit quiet, we whipped out the bream gear and racked up the species:


On our penultimate day we decided to hire a guide who took us through a maze of mangroves and little creeks to a remote river called Escape. Unfortunately, none of us had a working camera on board, which was a disaster as it was without a doubt our best day fishing (big barra, jacks, cod etc) and the location was stunning. But sometimes it’s nice to just enjoy the moment and not worry about taking snaps (HA who am I kidding, I was bloody FILTHY with myself).

On our final day we decided to take a break from fishing and drive to the very tip of the Australian continent. After stopping for lunch at yet another beautiful beach:


And hiking over a rocky outcrop:


We arrived at the tip:


We couldn’t help but have a quick flick (here’s my old man landing the tiniest cod in the world at the tip of Australia):


And before we knew it, the trip was over. Although we didn't land any trophies, it was a mint trip – I can’t recommend Bully’s fishing camp and boat hire enough enough. A huge thanks to Mal Caffin, our organizer and spiritual leader – you’re an absolute legend. It’s safe to say I’ll definitely be going back.

Cheers!