This was the destination for our trip. The Gulf. Crocodiles. The last frontier. The capital of barramundi fishing. Prawns come a distant second. Nothing but barra matters. You learn about barramundi at the new, very flash barramundi discovery centre, you talk to everyone about barramundi, you fish for barramundi and you eat lots of barramundi. All I wanted to do was catch one. I think it’s a very overrated fish, but I didn’t tell anyone that. I just wanted the photo. Yes, yes, shallow I know.
It was a very disappointing day on the water. I caught lots of catfish and some salmon. Nothing to brag about. Nothing to eat. Not a barra in sight. Not even a croc.
Besides the sunset at the pub, there was nothing else. No point in even mentioning politics. And so we left. Me without my photo and John relieved that fishing was now off the agenda.
If you want to go fishing, go to Sweers Island and give Karumba a big miss. Oh, and don’t invite John.