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GLADSTONE MARINA to PANCAKE CREEK...continued |
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Next day the wind had eased a bit so we grabbed the fishing gear and bait pump, launched the dinghy, and went in search of yabbies for bait. It took some exploring and lots of fruitless pumping before we finally found a good patch. We walked up through the shallows to a deeper, mangrove-lined section of the creek, baited our hooks, and began casting.
Bang! One after the other we were hauling in fish. Trouble was, they looked like the contents of someone’s tropical fish tank – a whole range of different species, none of which we knew although several looked Bream-like, and all just a bit too small to keep. Still, it was fun.
As the tide began to turn, the Whiting went on the bite. Soon we had a nice feed for lunch. Next minute I hooked something really serious. A large silver fish shot 1.5m into the air, did three spectacular somersaults, and spat the hook. Damn!
Leanne kept looking over her shoulder and was getting quite jumpy. “What’s up,” I asked.
“The tide’s come in a long way. I’m afraid we’ll get cut off from the dinghy,” she said.
“She’ll be right!” I replied. “Just a few more casts.”
“No,” she said. “I’m going now.”
I couldn’t get the sight of that fighting fish out of my mind, but in the end I went too. Just as well. We were forced to wade waist deep through very fast flowing tidal water to get to where we had left the dinghy tied up. On the way in it had only been ankle deep. |
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Above: boys play football on the Pancake Creek sandbar |
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There are a couple of interesting side creeks to explore. The canoe is ideal as it is strongly made yet floats in next to nothing. As the mangroves closed in and the water turned tea-brown, thoughts of Deliverance went through my mind. It looks like ideal crocodile habitat, but I am not aware of any recent sightings. Fish, Shovel-nosed Rays and Stingrays are the most commonly seen wildlife.
I persisted up one of the creeks until the water was only about 30cm deep. The canoe made no sound as I paddled gently upstream. I looked over the side into the water and saw a pair of monstrous eyes – I was paddling right over the top of a gargantuan stingray half buried in the mud. One flick of its massive, cow-like tail would send a bony spear through the bottom of the canoe and into my rear end.
It took all my willpower not to panic and paddle like crazy. I kept the same slow rhythm going until I was clear, then turned and came back on a different line. I was headed for Masala – that was enough excitement for one day. All the way back my rear end felt highly vulnerable. |