My tackle isn't working

We didn't get up quite as early as anticipated thanks to the late night yesterday and the odd drop of Bourbon. But it didn't really matter, as today was going to be focussed on a bit of beach and/or rock fishing.
The local subway was our first stop after checking out of the caravan park, where a completely healthy bacon and semi-frozen egg roll was purchased with a Farmers Union Iced Coffee to wash it down. I was annoyed at myself for doing this after spending the last 3-4 months on a semi healthy sugar free, bread free, carbohydrate free, dairy free diet (except maybe for the odd alcoholic beverage)... guess I will just have to starve myself for the rest of the week to make up for it.
We stopped off at a local Tackle shop so Peter could get his gear looked at by a couple of strapping young lads that were running the store, and then made the decision to go straight to the Murray Mouth for a session, before the winds pick up later this afternoon. We expected the Mouth to be nice and flowing after the storms a week or so ago, but they were exactly the opposite. We could almost walk out to the middle, and we could most certainly have been able to cast our lines onto the sand dredging barges if we so desired. Quite clearly the sand pumping is just not keeping up, and we are getting very nervous that the mouth is once again going to be on the brink of closing and killing off SA's once mighty river system in the next 5-10 years.
As you may have guessed, this blog is about our surrounds because once again, the Barry/Peter curse of no fish has struck again.The wind started increasing from about 11am and gradually increased until we gave up late afternoon with it blowing 40+ knots.
No pictures, no fish today..... but it doesn't matter.

A bad day's fishing is 100x better than a good day at work.

Fishing - Victor Harbor

I took an impromptu leave pass to catch up with Peter and spend some time holding our rods. We left home a little after 2pm and headed down to Victor. We checked into the old caravan park into a cabin that got last maintained 30 years ago, and started playing with our tackle. It's been a while, so we were both done in record time.

Waitpinga Beach was our destination for some salmon and we got there with about 20 minutes to spare before darkness set in. 

The waves were crashing down on the other side of the gutters and conditions looked and felt fantastic. For standing knee deep in the ocean holding our rods. Waiting. Standing. Waiting. 

There seems to always be a by-product in life, and this session was crabs. The bloody things were pouncing on our tackle the moment it got wet and wouldn't go away. 

After what seemed an eternity, I finally hooked onto a salmon and dragged it kicking and screaming onto the beach and the excitement levels began to rise for a second time on this trip. It wasn't much longer before I washed the crabs away and landed victim number 2 - this time a reasonable size. 

The smiles were flowing now, knowing that we have finally caught something on a Barry/Peter fishing trip.... Those in the know, will know that actually catching anything other than a cold and a headache from too much alcohol on these trips is very rare. 

But that was it. Getting excited more than 3 times after such a drought was just the wrong thing to do. 

We admitted defeat at about 9pm and went home. The night wasn't over however, and after a shower we went back to the bluff in search for some squid. Going out at 10pm on a Sunday night looking for squid is an amazing rarity for me, but true to our usual form, it was 2 hours of cold dark nothing. 

Midnight arrived and the uninviting bed was inviting me to bed. Tomorrow is another day of playing with our rods and tackle, hopefully with a bit more luck.