The temperature climbs

Having one cool(ish) day yesterday was a bit like having a cold shower before getting in a sauna. It was great whilst it lasted, but we knew it was a very short lived reprieve. 

Yesterday was hovering around 33 degrees, so we spent the day hovering around the pool. Once again we set up our chairs next to the fence and in such a way that we could slip Taz through and let him hide under my seat in the shade. He was constantly trying to get out to see the kids and I had to keep dragging him back under until he finally settled and lay quiet. Thinking about it a bit more after lunch, I started wondering if he was just petrified that my weight was going to come crashing through the chair and squash him  6 foot under, faster than an elephant standing on a mouse. 

More swimming after lunch, and a few board games in the comfort of the air conditioned TV room, saw the day pass and we settled into another hot restless night. 

This morning was exactly how holiday mornings are supposed to be - in my opinion. 

The kids got up and played, Tracy got up and played... and I slept in. Sort of. Between Taz jumping on the bed and trying to resuscitate me by licking my face every 15 minutes, and the kids calling out to me to cook them breakfast (I suspect with a bit of encouragement from Tracy), I think I got a few hours extra kip. 

We then headed into the free Water Park on the other side of Mildura, where I stayed with Taz and Dylan & Kayla, whilst Tracy went to donate to the local Woolies again with Tyler. 

This place is surprising how entertained it kept the two kidlets, considering it was only a maximum of 4" deep, however, it did and it was great to just sit and watch them play so well together. 

After more swimming this afternoon, I cooked up some chicken thigh fillets, wrapped around some ham and mozzarella cheese on the Weber. I have been hanging out to cook something different than just grilling snags and patties, and the Weber never lets us down when roasting something. 

After dinner, I gathered everyone together and went for a walk to the rivers edge. I had done this a few days ago so I knew where to go to catch the best shots. It was amazingly beautiful. Pictures cannot even start to describe how serene it was,however, that wasn't going to stop me from snapping away to try and get the perfect memories. 

Tomorrow we leave. Not because we don't like it here, but because the forecast includes at least 2 days over 36 degrees, with 2 days also over 40 degrees. There is also one of those "cold shower" days of close to 30 degrees just to try and fool us, but I am too clever for that.....

The temperature drops

We finally had a comfortable night. I think we even got to turn the air conditioning off for a few hours.

Tyler got to sleep in his brand new tent for the first time with Taz to protect him, however when Dylan went to the toilet about 6:30am, he came back with Taz in his arms, yet Tyler was still sound asleep in the tent!  Turns out he whined and paced the tent all night and apparently nuzzled his way out of the tent at some stage to go and terrorise anyone else who was silly enough to be awake at that time of the morning. 

Tyler was partly sheepish, indicating that he may have known Taz was gone but couldn't really care less after not getting too much sleep last night. 

Today was a much nicer 25 degrees and was already there at 8am. 

There was a huge sporting field about 2km down the road so we all trundled off with a soccer ball and did some stupid stuff - like running, exercise etc. 

the kids did a great job practicing their foot skills and then setup some goal kicking practice. 

Taz spent nearly an hour chasing a tennis ball at full speed until he finally collapsed on the grass panting faster than me after I ran 50 metres thinking I might actually get to the soccer ball before Tyler or Dylan. 

Next stop was to call into "Orange World" to see what the shop had to sell us and to find out how we were going to do a tour without one of us sitting out with Taz. To my amazement they said we could take Taz on the tour though the citrus orchard on the train ... so we did. 

Mario was our guide and was extremely friendly and funny(ish). I think he was the owner and was very interactive with everyone on the train, especially the kids. He invited Dylan and Kayla up front to drive the tractor which they were extremely chuffed at. 

On the way home I detoured to follow a sign to the Botanic Gardens. Not sure if we have missed something, but it looked just like the rest of the scrub around the Murray, but with fencing. 

Obviously we need to brush up on our fauna appreciation skills - just not on this trip. 

Before we knew it, tea time arrived. Tonight was pizza on the Weber. Yummo. 

After dinner, I took Taz for a walk to the river. A magnificent stretch of river greeted us, with dead calm water, fish feeding on the surface and birds chirping away without a worry in the world. 

This is my favourite part of camping. Being by the water, enjoying nature. 

Keeping cool

The heat may have slowed us down, but it definitely hasn't stopped us enjoying not being at work. 

As soon as the traditional bacon and eggs cooked breakfast was over, we went for a walk to the river edge then I sneaked over to the pool with the kids before too many other people saw me and called the RSPCA to get me out of the water. 

One of the things we were forced to learn on this holiday, is that taking a dog away with us poses a whole lot more restrictions than we actually ever thought of. Like - how can we all go to Woolworths together and race trolleys down the aisle?  How do we all go to the park pool together and sun bake like a Walrus searching for the sun?  Luckily I am not one to obey every rule to the exact meaning, and I tied Taz up to the outside of the fence knowing full well he could fit between the rails and sit between our chairs without too many people noticing. We still had to have one of us sitting with him to stop him whining and drawing attention to us (as if me sitting there without a top on wasn't enough...). 

After lunch was the mandatory Woolworths visit for a few essentials, and this was modified with Tyler and myself wandering the streets with Taz, whilst Tracy took Dylan and Kayla to do the spending. 

Some parts of Mildura are actually quite scenic... it certainly helped that it was 38 degrees on a Sunday and all the smart people were at home sitting in front of their air conditioners. 

We then headed off to the local splash park where the kids managed to spend a good hour running around in 3 inches of water. It would be great to have their imagination and maybe even nicer to have half their energy. 

It doesn't look like the temperature is going to get to an amazing low of about 30 degrees again. If I keep sweating at this rate, the Murray is potentially going to flood again, and with a bit of luck I might actually drop a notch on the scales .... unless my rehydration habits after dinner put a stop to that thought. 

Another sweltering night ahead. But we are on holidays so I don't care. 

Hot. Hot. Hot

Today is the day we leave for 3 weeks on the road. There is nothing quite as enjoyable as packing a caravan in 40 degree heat with 3 kids doing everything they can to make it as difficult as they can. 

We left home at 2pm after Tracy finished work, and for the first time in forever we got past Tailem Bend without the need for a toilet stop. I am not sure that the temperature fell below 43 for the entire trip, but thankfully the car didn't skip a beat and we arrived safely. 

Setting up was a little slower, thanks to the oppressive heat and a quick interlude where we all went to the pool for a while.

I pottered around for the next hour or so setting up the last bits and pieces so that the morning would be a relaxed affair without the need to set anything more up. 

True to forecast, it was a sweltering night. Didn't get below 30 all night, and therefore our little air conditioner also ran all night. Until it woke me up at around 5:30 making all sorts of funny noises. I turned it off, only to start cooking again 39 minutes later, at which time Tracy turned it back on. All seemed good again, so it began another 3 hours of keeping the van cool. 

Totally unprepared - January 2017

In 1 day, we are heading off for our next adventure. 3 weeks of travelling what is potentially one of the hottest parts of the country in one of the hottest months of the year.
First leg of the journey is home to Mildura. The forecast currently sits at 41 degrees Saturday whilst we are travelling, 37 degrees Sunday and a cooler 33 degrees on Monday before ramping up to 37 again on Tuesday.
Looks like I am going to need to squeeze this over-sized frame of mine into a pair of Budgie Smugglers and scare the locals at the Caravan Park Pool. Better also fore-warn them to let some water out so that they don't think the Murray is breaking its banks again.

Still. ..... I could be at work.......  Nuf said. 

Let there be wind

A few scattered showers came down overnight, barely enough to wet the ground, but enough to keep me wary of what was to come. However, by morning, the sky was still blue and that recently absent heat ball called the Sun was climbing steadily in the East, ready for a new day.
Mother Nature was not content with producing 2 really good days however, and was blowing harder than me after yesterdays 200m dash from the playground to the car.
We contemplated going to some wineries or for another walk to the home of the Killer Bees, all the while watching parts of our vans fly apart in the horrendous winds.
We decided to wait till after lunch before going anywhere, during which time, the Wind Witch ran out of breath and literally stopped blowing completely. It was like being in the eye of a tornado. And according to all the reports on Social Media, that was a pretty accurate description. "Winds easing around mid-day, before pickng up late afternoon, accompanied by possible torrential rainfalls".
Great. Just what you want to hear when out for a long weekend in a region that has already literally closed down due to recent floods.
We all muttered our own profanities, before making an executive decision to call it quits and pack up. The rain wasn't due to stop until Wednesday, and the last thing any of us wanted to do was pack up in the wet, only to have to get it dry when we got home.
So in an unprecedented move, I agreed and started packing up.
To help my mood, the sun was shining, the sky was blue and it was a very comfortable 20 degrees. And the closer we got to home, the nicer the weather appeared to be. At one stage, i couldnt see a cloud in the sky, nor was a tree branch swaying. And that didnt change the whole way home. Or after we got home. I even stood out in the driveway at one stage doing an Indian Rain Dance, trying to get the weather to turn nasty and justify our decision. Next time, maybe I should do it with my clothes on as it appears i may have actually scared the rain away.
There is also no wind. In fact, it is almost perfect camping weather.
The drizzle finally started just after 5, helping me to feel just a little better. I was secretly hoping it was blowing 60km/hr winds and pouring down in Kapunda.
If this weather doesnt turn as foul as predicted soon, I am going to get annoyed. More annoyed.
The only thing to do now is to have a drink, set up a platter and fire up the BBQ.
Finally, it has actually started raining... well heavy showering.. I have never thought I could be happy about getting crap weather.

Let there be Sunlight

After a night of drizzling showers, we woke up to this amazing sight formerly known as sunlight. 

The kids took the dog for his morning walk, I fired up the Weber and the usual "we are camping"  cooked breakfast was started up. 

We all then headed off for a walk into the main street, but didn't get far before the kids found the local playground.

However, today's adventure was about Taz. 

Not to be outdone by the kids, Taz got up on the spinning table and sat there like the good puppy he is. 

We let him jump off before the local Animal Cruelty group saw us. He pottered around the grass chewing on all the flowers, when I saw him shaking his head. I saw a bee fall off the side of his mouth that had obviously stung him as he was getting a little agitated and shaking his head about. 

I really started getting concerned a few minutes later when he just stopped walking and lay down. 

I picked him up and he flopped down in my arms almost lifeless. That's when I really really got concerned and ran back to the Caravan park, got the car and raced into Nuriootpa to the 24hr vet. 

Just as we pulled up he threw up all over Tracy's jeans and the car seat. That gave me something to do whilst she took him inside for an anti-histamine injection and a check to make sure he remained breathing.

It was confirmed that it was in fact the bee sting and not the spinning that caused him to scare the life out of us, although I still feel the playground had a fair bit to do with it. 

Either way, the $100 spent was worth knowing that our little man was ok and that we hadn't caused him a severe case of ever lasting vertigo. 

When we got back, the Hardy's graced us with their presence, and began to set up their van.
Olivia stood there admiring Rob's erection, before Daniel interrupted her to help fix his.

Whilst waiting,a nd not overly interested in other peoples erections, I took Tyler and Darcy for a walk up to the local dis-used copper mine. The council has done a great job providing informative signage and a walking trail, passing numerous mine shafts with some flimsy fencing attempting to stop energetic kids from climbing too close and disappearing for ever. 

We got back just in time for the AFL Grand Final to start on TV, Sydney Swans vs Western Bulldogs. It turned out to be a cracker of a game, with the Doggies coming out victorious with a 22 point win - their first GF win in about 50 years. 

Thanks to a nice bottle of wine or 2, the game was even better to watch. 

Tea time was Chicken Yiros, and was cooked beautifully - must have been the way it was cooked. 

The night was topped off in typical camping fashion with another fire and more wine. I did manage to poke the fire a couple of times when Daniel was off doing something else (Bush camp rule #12 - dont touch another man's fire when he is watching...... right up there with rule#7 - Don't offer to help a man with his camping erection unless he asks.)
Gotta love camping.

Kapunda - Barossa's dry spot

We had planned on spending this October long weekend at the Clare Caravan park for the last 3 months. The trouble with that plan is that SA has just experienced what has been reported as "the worst storm event in 50 years" for the last 2 days. And it hasn't stopped raining for what seems like 3 weeks.

I rang on Wednesday to check if we could have fires, only to be told they were cancelling our booking due to the campground resembling Shrek's mud swamp and a 70m tree falling down due to the floating soil around its roots. 

So I started ringing around looking for alternatives around the Barossa or Clare Valley, seemingly oblivious to the fact the creeks had water levels rising on an average of a metre per hour. We managed to find 3 available sites at Kapunda, and all seemed to be falling perfectly in place. 

Except that all the roads leading to Kapunda were flooded and detours were in place. I was determined however and found that if we took the scenic route through Mt Pleasant, Angaston and Nuriootpa, then the only place we may get stuck is the last 10km. Luckily, my amazing talent in planning and research found us getting to Kapunda without incident, and passing some amazing flowing creeks. 

Another preplanned event meant that Tracy had to turn around and head back home within an hour of arriving, to take Dylan to his specialist soccer training, so I continued to potter and set up the van, all the while trying to mask out this crap weather by drinking a bottle of Red. 

It didn't work. I was so cold, even with a fire going, so I hid in the van with a heater on and watched a Stephen Seagal 3rd time repeat movie topping up with another drink or 2. 

The wind picked up, the showers kept coming, and it was just horribly cold. Hoping the weekend is going to get a whole lot better. 

Meanwhile the rest of the Barossa and Clare Valleys are now 3m under water due to the region being hit with a years rainfall in less than a week. And I am complaining about being cold.

Just as well no-one is listening to me... again.

Great weather, Stupid fish

A new day arrives, and we surface just before 7am without too much of a hangover. The wind was mostly gone and the clouds were looking a bit threatening, but weren't producing any rain, so we packed our gear and headed off to see if these Kingfish really did exist.

We stopped in the shallows where we got a heap of salmon trout yesterday, but no luck this time. Who would have thought they would actually move on from this spot in the last 15 hours.... An hour had now passed, so we headed off past the power station to the squid grounds and spent the next 45 minutes stocking up the live bait tank.

The next 5 hours was spent dragging these poor squid around 20 metres below the surface, or letting them fight against the balloon bouncing in the wind along the surface, however, we still ended up with the same result we would have got if we were back in the local pub.... nothing caught...however, as they say, a bad day fishing is a better option than being at work...... apparently. We decided that we were just not going to get any of these elusive Kingfish today, so we grabbed our tackle and headed off to the shallows for a bit of fun.

At least we were successful with this. Salmon Trout by the hundreds. Once we had enough for a feed, and with rain clouds bearing down on us, we headed back to the upper reaches of the river to see if these bloody fish actually existed and were just hiding from us.

Another hour or more passed by with us dangling our tackle in seemingly empty waters, and the day was closing in fast, so the Trout were filleted, the squid were decapitated and the boat was cleaned.

Another year has passed without any Kingfish to be seen. It was mutually agreed that this was probably the last time we were going to come here and target these fish... time to start looking for snapper methinks.

I spent the first hour after getting back to the cabin re-hydrating with a half a bottle of Bacardi whilst skinning the fish and wrapping up to put in the freezer. A follow up with a quick shower and getting dressed up in our best Sneens outfit, then meant we were then ready to visit the local establishment for a brew or two, washed down with some Pub Grub for dinner.

There was a reasonable amount of tap beers to try, but on closer inspection., West End Draught, XXXX and a light beer just weren't going to cut it today, so I downed a few too many of my favourite Coopers Pale Ale, before retiring back to the cabin..... only to find The Rocky Horror Picture Show was playing on late night TV. Despite my body screaming at me to go to bed, I sat up finishing the bottle of Bacardi chuckling unnecessarily at a show that I am not even sure is funny and singing loudly to the handful of songs I knew the words to, and making up the words to the rest. Peter was lucky enough to have fallen asleep 2 minutes after laying down, so he didn't have to listen to me belting out multiple Aria worthy performances of songs that don't even begin to make sense... especially with the words I was making up. I ended up correcting this blog at least 3 times, such was the distraction of Frankenfurter - The Sweet Transvestite singing along with me

Home tomorrow.... no more fishing. Not here anyway.
Need to spend the next week or 2 piecing together the mountains of video and pictures I have taken in the hope of making my own short movie on how to spend 3 days boating, drinking and fishing, without catching our target fish.

Stupid Weather

After planning this trip for the last 6 weeks and then making the investment of getting here, paying for the cabin and basically running the fuel tank dry and having to limp our way into the closest fuel station in Pt Auguta, we were going fishing no matter what.
The boat was ready, the fishing rods were ready, we got here 4 hours earlier than expected and it was a mild 20 degrees. Everything was just as we planned it.

Except the wind. Bloody wind. Stupid wind.
You can put up with most elements in a boat, but not the stinking wind. So there was only one obvious alternate. Off to the pub. We did actually go down to the wharf first to check out if the wind  was any less gale force. It wasn't, but we got out our rods anyway and stuck them in the water for a bit to see if anything took a fancy and had a nibble. I did actually hook up to a Salmon Trout after a small while, but as i lifted it out of the water, Troutnado scooped it up and sent it into the wind God's handbag to deliver it to some poor unsuspecting grandma gardening on the other side of the peninsula.
That was enough for me, so we went a bought a few essential supplies such as a couple of blocks of chocolate, some biscuits and a head of lettuce for Peter and then came back to get cleaned up for dinner at the pub.
On arrival, I couldn't help notice that my choice of dressing up in Sneens wasn't actually out of place here, and spent the next hour admiring the new fashion trend, even spotting a couple of pairs of black Ripples with black stretch denim jeans..... Looks like I am off to K-Mart to get me some!

We both got stuck into an average schnitzel, with a drink to wash it down with, before heading back to the cabin to watch Jason Bourne act out my life.
The weather forecast for the next 2 days, which happens to be the limit of our stay here, doesn't get any better. We decided that out of the 3 different smart phone apps we are using, one of them (SeaBreeze) shows the wind dying down at around 3pm Monday, so we would hang around until lunch and then head out.
Monday arrived. Bloody apps. Bloody weather. We got out after lunch and caught ourselves a bucket load of Salmon Trout for live bait and dinner, figuring it was too hard to attempt squidding, before heading over to the renowned Power Station wall to try our luck. Thankfully, Peter has a live bait tank on the boat, so the trout were destined to be alive and well until we chose to jam a razor sharp hook through its back with a balloon tied to the line preventing it from doing anything but getting distressed enough to attract a hungry kingfish, like a bourbon being placed in front of an alcoholic.

Pity the Kingfish didn't see our enticement the way we had intended. Either that or they were in another state sheltering from the galeforce winds that were swinging the boat 140 degrees every 20 seconds, wrapping our lines around each other with the trout not too happy with the party balloons restricting their every movement.

Our plans to sit it out till nightfall were canned as the wind was driving the light rain horizontally into the back of hour heads, despite having the extra canopy on the boat, so we gave up and headed back to the boat ramp. At least we caught something.... not quite the 1 metre plus Kingfish we were hoping for, but a dozen trout is still ok, considering the conditions.

The weather is looking just as crap tomorrow... but we are going out regardless. Cant catch them sitting back here.

The elusive Kingfish

I remember back a few years when  I went on this same fishing jaunt with Peter and a few of his mates and their boats. We stayed in a shack that would have been better described as 4 walls and a roof. It did have electricity, but didn't have   running water, which wasn't overly helpful during night 2 with a belly full of booze and 20 partially cooked crabs that decided to want to exit my body at 2am. 

Anyway, it is Sunday and Peter and I are heading off again on trip 3 to see if we can get ourselves a Kingfish or 2. It is a very plain boring drive which meant we could actually talk about life for 4 hours. But apart from discussing the strategies we would be trying to catch these buggers, the rest was just bloke dribble - which will be translated into heaps of stories when Tracy asks "what did you talk about?"  

The weather forecast is not too bad if we were only looking at temperatures. Unfortunately the wind will be pushing 40km/hr so we are hoping that is the forecast for the open water. 

It's 12:00 nearly as I write this, and we are about 100k short of Pt Augusta. This afternoon is going to be about setting up, research and the odd drink or 3. Depending on the consumption of the aforementioned drink, we could potentially head out towards dusk for a quick session, and maybe a fish as well. 

Bring on the Kingfish. 

Wine. Food. Wine. Food.

The weather was fantastic this morning. Crisp, still, cool but magnificent clear sky's. Rob and I took the dogs for their morning battle and used it as an excuse to grab an Iced Coffee and exchanged manly man tales. The dogs went ballistic on the oval and were totally exhausted again. Taz was more than happy to recover by sitting  in my lap whilst I haggled my way through a crossword. 

And with the fire started by 10am, there really was no reason to move all day. 

Somehow the day soon turned into a food fest, with the odd drop of wine. It may have started when I got the 1st bottle out at lunch time.... And it didn't take much convincing for the others to follow up with half a dozen more. 

Another walk up to the shops for the worlds most expensive bread and milk, gave me a chance to absorb some of the sights around this little country town. 

The 3 campsites we were spreading ourselves across, were certainly in need of a tidy up, but thanks to the wine and copious amounts of cheese, salami and nuts, it just wasn't going to be today. 

Taz went for his afternoon walk with Rob and the kids (and Soda), when I suddenly got a call from Rob asking if Taz was with me - he had taken off! By the time I got up and crossed over to the park, I heard the others at the camp yelling out that Taz was there (looking for me!).

He was soaking wet and shivering, so we dried him off and wrapped him up. It took a good hour to get him to stop shaking, but he was obviously exhausted and didn't move apart from being shuffled between people fighting over who was going to hold him next. 

Tea time arrived, and as the new tradition commanded, we went up to the local takeaway for our last night. 

One more chance to snap a photo of the lake before settling around the fire with even more to eat and drink. 

Tomorrow is pack up day. That means it is either going to be fantastic weather, or raining. 

Wet, Windy and Glamping

It was a beautiful sunny morning and the perfect moment to cook bacon and eggs for breakfast. (Truth be told, it wouldn't matter - bacon and eggs is the staple breakfast whilst Glamping). 

I took the dogs out for a morning run and they went mental. I keep thinking how nice it would be if they just explored with each other, but as 4 & 5 month old puppies, they only want to chase each other and get filthy. 

Then the wind and showers started again. Followed by sunshine and calmness and then more showers and wind. Thankfully the good weather is pushing through for longer than the crap weather, allowing the kids to be out exploring and is responsible adults eating and drinking at the camp sites admiring the rainbows poking through the grey skies periodically. 

After lunch, there was only one thing to do ... Crack open the wine and cheese and biscuits and wine and nibbles. And wine. 

Daniel (now more commonly referred to as "Sex on a Stick" by Olivia) was being the husband of the year by getting a constant stream of wine for the girls and topping up any food that ran out. 

I am still trying to workout how he got his nickname, but I am sure there is a reason. 

A few too many glasses of wine and the odd bourbon later, it suddenly became tea time and we had to become adults again and cook tea for the kids. And us. 

The kids are off to bed early tonight, so I cleaned up the dinner dishes whilst they showered, had dessert and then crashed. 

We finished the night with the obligatory fire, and discussing how on earth Sex on a Stick could have got his name. 

Even the dogs are exhausted tonight and have crashed. Sitting around the fire with a good red wine, lots of crap to talk about, and the risqué subjects that a campfire and alcohol combine..... This is why we love glamping. 

Milang - June 2016

Finally a long weekend arrived. It is the June long weekend, 14 degrees and raining. Perfect time to head off to a caravan park. 

Back to Milang this year. It's only 45 minutes away from our place which makes it handy for these short getaways. I am relying heavily on the weather forecast being correct for once. A few showers clearing and a nice weekend ahead. 

Ummmmm. Wrong!

I am heading down on my own again this year as the kids have their school disco tonight and with Tracy being the volunteer of the year by starting to organise things from 1pm on. They are not finishing till 9pm, so I have headed up early to set up and drink. 

If only the opening of the caravan door was as uneventful as the trip down. It appears that wine bottles need to be wrapped in something when stored inside the overhead cupboards. Not pretty seeing the results of a smashed bottle of red dripping onto the mattress and curtains. And not the best way for me to slip into camping mode. 

A couple of hours later I had managed to get over the fact that I had unnecessarily lost a bottle of wine, and started contemplating the clean up. I eventually got everything dry, but far from clean. A few bourbons in, and the care factor subsided and I continued to set up. At least the rain stopped. Oh wait, here it goes again. 

I took Taz out for a run at sunset and he went mental for 10 minutes with Soda (Rob & Nicole's Groodle). The lake looked fantastic and despite the dogs getting saturated, it was a nice end to daylight. 

I went for the incredibly lazy option of getting take-away for tea, before settling down around a fire with The Hardy's and the Mardles and Taz on my lap. The rain showers have gone, the fire is going, the bourbon is flowing. 

This beats working, any day. 

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.