The Young and the Restless | Fishing for family fame

By Bree Harding

Oct 24, 2023

Not just another day: If nothing else, the sunrise was beautiful. Photo by Contributed

I know I’ve shared with you the story of my lucky Murray cod catch on Lake Mulwala a few weeks ago and tales from our family trout farm fishing adventure in Buxton, but the truth is, I’m not really a keen (nor a skilled) fisher.

But I’ll try most things once to tick as many experiences off my bucket list as I can in this lifetime. Fishing from a boat in the ocean is something I hadn’t done before last weekend.

Before the dawn: We set out into Port Phillip Bay in the dark, watching the city lights across the water. Photo by Contributed

I hear all about it year after year when my dad, brother, brother-in-law and uncle make their pilgrimage to the coast for a fishing charter they go on annually.

It’s always been amusing listening to them rib each other about who caught the biggest/smallest/most fish, who didn’t catch any, and so on. So, I guess wanting to see firsthand how all this went down led me to crash their boys’ trip this time.

All is calm: Fishing with the city in sight. Photo by Contributed

It was possibly also to have a go at claiming a crown of my own — after all, I still believe fishing is mostly luck, so why wasn’t I in with just as much chance of reeling in the catch of the day?

Locked and loaded: Staff on board helped rig, bait, unhook and untangle. Photo by Contributed

After our initial planned trip was abandoned when winds just short of gale force drove us back to shore with empty ice boxes, we decided for our rescheduled trip this time we’d go down and back in one day rather than using an entire weekend taking partners and families and spending money on more accommodation and meals.

But that meant setting alarms at 1.15 am on a Saturday in order to make it to St Kilda Marina in time for our sunrise charter’s departure (I still haven’t recovered my sleep).

We boarded the boat in the dark and sailed out to sea in calm waters and a pleasant 19°C temperature. Within a minute or two of dropping our lines in, someone from another party was reeling in her first fish, an undersized snapper, the guys told me is known as a ‘pinky’.

Another minute passed, and up came another fish — an undersized flathead. Another minute and someone reels in the freshest, tiniest little newborn shark. Even the deckhand who unhooked him was surprised to see the ‘belly button’ from its umbilical cord was still there.

‘Gummy’ shark: Caught and quickly released. Photo by Contributed

He let me hold the shark and release it back into the water after I’d spent a few moments clucking over it and trying to avoid getting nipped. Upon reflection, I probably should’ve taken that nip so I could bring home a great tale from the sea about having been bitten by a shark to tell for all eternity.

I hadn’t yet caught a fish, but I would have still gone home satisfied right there and then after my baby shark encounter. Anyway, assuming my previous position at my rod and back on task, I started to get bites on my line.

In our first hour of fishing, the 16 of us on board pulled in too many fish to count. Given most were undersized and had to be thrown back, there was no final count inside the esky that could give an accurate number at the end of it all.

We mainly caught snapper (and pinkies), flathead and cod. If we were giving actual awards to each other rather than just bragging rights, my brother-in-law would have won one for catching the most dangerous fish — a gurnard with sharp, poisonous spines, looking somewhat like the toxic-waste fish from The Simpsons pulled from the waters behind the power plant, but with one less eye.

My dad might have won the award for being the first person ever to catch a mud-clad ball of old fishing line filled with mussels and oysters. My uncle, who’d reportedly not caught much last time, redeemed his reputation and bagged the biggest snapper of anyone on board that day, not just family.

Beach scene: Returning to the marina in the daylight, we sailed past brightly coloured bathing boxes. Photo by Contributed

I caught five or so fish myself, but only one keeper. When the fish stopped biting at that location, we moved on but didn’t have much luck in the three further spots, and by the time we returned to the marina at 10am, it was cold, windy and overcast again.

You need no skill to go on this fishing charter — the rods are rigged for you, baited when you first board, and the captain and deckhand help unhook, measure and release undersize fish, as well as untangling crossed lines without frustration. They even gut, scale and bag your fish for you — and cook them on board if you don’t want to take them home.

If you get out there and do get bored with fishing, however, you can still enjoy yourself by just taking in the scenery, watching the sunrise and eating snags off the barbie they cook for you.

I honestly enjoyed this experience more than I thought I would, which may or may not be something the boys want to hear, depending on whether they want me to crash another one of their trips.

But maybe I’ll take my own boys out on one now, knowing how easy it is to catch fish and that I won’t have to get frustrated helping to rig, bait or untangle four lines.