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Whitsunday Cruising & Fishing
By Dean Dibeler
I was dragged from my slumber by the deafening noise of my phone ringing. I could see the screens illumination through my eyelids as I reached uncoordinatedly for the noise making machine. I barely cracked an eyelid as I fumbled to hit the silence button, tossing the phone across the room onto the desk... good riddance foul noise, it was 3am. I was in no mood to talk and needed some sleep. I snuggled back into my pillow instantly dozing off.
A short time passed and I was rudely awoken from my rest once again by the same deafening noise and as I fumbled to find the phone on the bedside table, I instantly regretted tossing it across the room earlier. I was faced with two choices, climb out of bed, crawl across to the desk and silence the beast or stay put and wait out the racket. I decided to stay put, rolling over to try to block the sound with my back, however it was pointless and the ringing seemed to get louder and louder. The noise was bouncing off the walls and pounding my head into the pillow. How I wished I had turned my phone off before I went to bed. Eventually as quickly as the noise had started it was gone and I was once again in silence. This time however I didn't fall back to sleep, the pounding had taken its toll and I was awake, wondering who was responsible for awakening me not once but twice.
Suddenly the phone rang again and this time I decided to answer, rolling out of bed and across to the desk I saw a strange number, a long number and a feeling of anger was beginning to brew. If this was some international scammer trying to sell me something I was going to scream. I answered the phone with a raspy hello, "Yowie, it's Ryan, what are you up to mate?" was the upbeat, happy reply that I received. You see Ryan lives in Fiji and through sheer excitement didn't think to calculate the five hour time difference between Fiji and WA. He had just stumbled onto a good deal to book a yacht for a week cruising around the Whitsundays and had to act fast. He was frantically trying to find people to join the trip, without using his head. I told him "yeah okay, sounds good... call ya later, I`m going back to sleep".
Fast forward a couple months and the ute was packed with rods, tackle, dive gear and a change of clothes. We piled in and were on our way to Brisbane airport to make our flight to Proserpine late Thursday afternoon. With myself driving, my wife Gabi in the passenger seat and Steve and Nat in the back, the cabin was alive with excitement and laughter, making the drive pass in no time. A quick airport check in and we decided to visit the Qantas lounge for some light pre-flight refreshments. It was at this moment that Steve realised he had forgotten to pack his shoes, thus denying him access to the lounge. So like any good friend would do we ditched him... "seeya on the flight mate".
We landed at Proserpine just on sunset and with a light south easter blowing there was a slight chill in the air. I suddenly realised that I probably didn't pack enough warm clothes for the trip. After a shuttle bus ride into Airlie Beach, we were dropped off at our hotel where we checked in and met up with Ryan and Emma, who had flown up from Sydney around midday. After dinner and a few drinks it was time for bed. Some decided to go to town for a look, so we arranged to meet for breakfast.
After a quick breakfast we gathered all our things, piled into a maxi-cab and were off to the marina to board the 'Fedelieo' a 45ft Lagoon that would be home for the next week. We were all eager to drop the ropes and the vessel brief seemed to drag on and on. Little did we know that this would be the most hectic day of the trip... we needed to depart by 1400 at the latest to make it to the anchorage before dark and still had to do the shopping, stop in at the butchers, visit the bottle shop and our last couple still hadn't arrived. Paul and Laura were still on their way, driving down from Cairns and managed to get a little side tracked in Townsville the night before to watch the Cowboys play.
The girls took one cab to the supermarket and the boys took another to get meat and drinks, with both Taxis returning at roughly the same time. Everyone pitched in, frantically unpacking boxes and bags and finding a home for everything. We were probably two thirds of the way through when Laura and Paul arrived with every style of cheese known to man, olives, wine, 40 different flavours of dip and a variety of at least 20 different crackers... not to mention 37 boxes of BBQ shapes, Paul's favourite.
It was 1335 when we were ready to go, dropped the ropes and started making our way to Nara inlet. With a fresh SE breeze of around 15 knots, we motored along quite comfortably and everyone kicked back with a drink in hand and put their feet up for the trip across... with a couple lures out the back. We were hoping for a mackerel to give us some fresh fish for a lunch or dinner, unfortunately no takes and we arrived at Nara before sunset and dropped the pick. The cheese and dips came out and a few more drinks as the sun set, eventually followed by dinner and then bed.
As the sun began to show itself people started to rise from their cabins. A big breakfast of bacon and eggs was laid out on the table and a plan was devised to head north, stopping at a couple spots for various activities, with Blue Pearl Bay our final destination for the night. We pulled the pick back on board and away we went, exiting the entrance to Nara Inlet fairly close to the rocks to increase our chances of hooking a fish on the point as our lures dragged past.
Once we were clear of the Yellow Zone, Ryan and I were scanning the rocky shoreline looking for somewhere suitable to anchor the boat out of wind that would still be a decent option to spear a fish or two. As we moved further north we received a little more protection and found a slight bay to anchor the yacht in. The chain ran out with a rattle as it plummeted to the sea floor and we geared up ready for a dive, while some of the others swam and took the SUPs for a paddle.
Ryan and I jumped in the ducky, with Paul at the helm and headed to the next point along. The water wasn't crystal clear as one would have hoped but was at least 12m visibility on the bottom. We drifted along with the tide, diving for around an hour and Ryan managed to shoot two trout, before we were both starting to get a little chilly and so we climbed back into the ducky and made our way back to the yacht.
The wind was beginning to back right off by now and we continued on to Blue Pearl Bay. The sun was shining, the clouds had dispersed and the water was getting more and more blue as we went along. We arrived at the bay and grabbed a mooring, just in time for lunch. After lunch had settled the activities started, with people SUPing, walking the beach, swimming, sun baking, snorkelling and Steve had his drone buzzing around capturing it all. The snorkelling here was nothing short of amazing; clear water, tonnes of coral and plenty of fish. I saw some beautiful coral trout here wile snorkelling and it was like they knew they were safe, inside the green zone, taunting you, coming out of their home to have a look and casually swimming off without any sense of danger. An awesome experience nonetheless.
As the afternoon approached everyone eventually returned to the yacht, where the drinks began to flow and the cheese and dips were plentiful. I had noticed the local charter boat drifting back and forth a couple of times to the north, just outside the Green Zone in the Yellow area, before eventually packing up and heading for the mainland. About 30-40 minutes had past and curiosity had got the better of me. I had to go for a look. I slipped into the ducky, with a rod in hand, as everyone was enjoying their snacks.
I started fishing in around 12m of water and without the use of a sounder I felt really blind. It would be all luck if I managed to get a bite. After several drifts in various depths, trying a handful of different ZMan options, with the only bump I got being the jighead hitting the bottom, to stay motivated I reminded myself of the trout I had seen while snorkelling only 150m away... surely they would venture this far from home looking for a meal at prime feeding time.
I flicked out a long cast downwind, towards the deeper bottom, letting the line peel off the spool until my plastic touched the bottom. I then wound in the slack and gave the plastic a couple of quick lifts, before letting it fall back down, followed by a really quick, erratic burn. As the plastic sank back down the line suddenly went tight, I struck hard and the fish shook its head as I gained couple of turns of the reel. The fish wasn't having any part of it and turned its head and took the line I had gained plus some, stopped shook and took some more. It was not looking good for the angler at this stage, with the fish dangerously close to the bottom, then with another zzzzzz of drag the feeling had gone from a fighting fish to a snagged rock, a common trout tactic that gave the fish the upper hand.
Now in this situation you can pull all day long and possibly break your line or relax, back the pressure off, let the fish tire and hopefully coax it out of the hole. I eased off on the pressure, while still feeling a slight contact, then gradually applied some pressure after 40 seconds of so. I could feel the line slipping on the reef edge and felt the full contact of the fish. The fight was on once again, with the odds now in my favour. This fish was giving a hell of a fight and it didn't help that the side plate of my reel was missing, a screw causing the gears to skip and grind if I held the handle in the wrong position while lifting the fish with the rod. Eventually the battle was won and I had the fish on the surface, reached over the side, grabbed the trout under the gills and flipped it into the ducky. I ripped back the pull cord and slowly motored back to the yacht for a quick picture and to enjoy the sunset. The sky turned into an array of deep reds and orange shades... what an awesome way to finish the day.
The next morning I shot out of bed and silently slipped into the ducky, while everyone was asleep and went back to the Yellow area hoping for a bite, but was unfortunately unsuccessful and returned to the cat just as the mooring was dropped and we made our way to Butterfly Bay. It was another amazing day, with an oil like ocean and not a cloud in the sky. We didn't hang here long, just enough time for breakfast and a snorkel.
As we approached the north eastern point of Hook Island we were met by a pod of humpback whales that appeared to be feeding in the nutrient rich water that was upwelling off the reef edge, created by the strong ebb tide. The engines were shut down and we casually drifted, keeping clear of their path, all focused on the feeding whales, when out of nowhere a huge humpback surfaced directly behind us, within 10m of the transom, giving us all a taste of its fishy breath.
With the whales gone the engines were kicked back into gear and we continued east, rounding the point, lines were set and we were making our way to the famous Whitehaven for the afternoon.
We dropped the pick just outside the river mouth and piled into the ducky. It was a slow trip up the river but we had no schedule to keep and the weather was perfect. The water was crystal clear and we spotted dozens of rays on the sand flats, along with jacks and bream around the rock bars. I`m sure this river would have some amazing fishing potential but being another green zone it was off limits, which to be honest is probably a good thing. Being the only estuary of its kind on the islands it must be a fairly fragile place and with the amount of visitors every day it wouldn't take long before it would get trashed. Don't destroy what you came to enjoy.
The wind had started to pick up and we moved the yacht around the corner into Tongue Bay, as it was forecast to pick up to 25 knots the next day and Tongue would provide a more sheltered anchorage.
We all had a sleep in the next morning, hoping the weather man had got the forecast wrong and that faint whistling sound was a kettle coming to the boil on the yacht next to us, not 25 knots of SE wind blowing through the mast rigging. I dragged myself out of bed and checked the anemometer. You would believe it... the weatherman did get the forecast wrong... it was blowing 35, not 25 knots. Fantastic!
Not wanting to dwell on the weather, now was a perfect opportunity to test our sailing skills... that were extremely limited I might add. After another bacon and egg breakfast we dropped the mooring, pointed the boat north and once well clear of any structure and into open water, the front sail was deployed through some confusion, pulled back in untangled and deployed a second time correctly. Engines were shut down and we were casually sailing along at 5-7 knots. Perfect speed to troll some lures and we were hoping to catch something this time around. Confidence in the trolling lures was way down as we had dragged lures everywhere we went and were still yet to get a touch.
Now I`ve never really understood why people would spend their hard earned cash on a sailboat, but I`ll be the first to admit that cruising along with no engine noise, just the sound of water lapping against the hull was pretty awesome and very relaxing. Eventually we made it to the channel and any relaxed feelings we may have had were about to be blown away by the wind. It was time to pull the sail in, start the engines and punch into it for about 10 nautical miles, all the way to Hamilton Island to restock with water, ice and BBQ shapes.
With the sail packed up we turned around the point, through the channel and head on into to the wind and swell, with the odd bit of spray making its way to the bridge and it was freezing! It didn't help that all I packed for the trip were board shorts and one jumper. The further we went the less of the crew were present on the bridge. Some returned with blankets, while others found refuge in their cabins, never to be seen. It didn't matter whose misses was next to you, you had a pass to snuggle up with them to stay warm. Hell, I spent half the trip snuggled up to Steve and Ryan!
After what felt like most of the day we had had enough and decided to have a break for an hour or so and pulled into the now famous Sid Harbour, that looked more like Sydney Harbour with the amount of boats that had decided to seek refuge from the wind here. It was pretty comfortable and we decided to stay put for the night.
The next morning we pulled the anchor and continued on from where we had left off the previous day. It was still blowing 20-25 knots, with patchy cloud cover and it was still chilly. The lures were running true and we travelled nice and close to the islands, points and over any shoals that weren't too far off our course to Hamilton Island... and we still caught nothing on the troll.
Once all tied up at Hamo, we offloaded our rubbish, made a quick visit to the bakery and the girls did some shopping, before visiting the bottle shop and supermarket. It was pretty nice for a little day trip, however we were eager to get back on the water, away from the crowd and do our own thing.
With everyone back on board and ready to go, we had to make a plan. With the wind still howling, going further south was not an option, so north it was, back up to the top end of Hook Island. This was the nicest area we had been to and we wanted to explore it a little more in detail, so we made a plan to stay up here for the remainder of the trip, with Stonehaven Bay our destination for the night.
We dropped the lines and made our way out of the marina. Once clear of the channel we pulled out the sail, shut the motors down and started trolling. We had around a 13nm trip the anchorage, with a nice big shoal to drag the lures over on the way. The sun had started to shine and everyone kicked back with a drink in their hand and wind in their hair.
As we rounded the point into Stonehaven the place looked pretty promising. A large nervous patch of baitfish on the surface flicked in the sun occasionally, showering with fright as a predator smashed through the school. The anchor was quickly deployed and Ryan jumped in with a mask on for a closer look, while Gabi and I set off in the ducky with a ZMan Scented Jerk ShadZ tightly secured on each of our rods. We slowly edged our way closer to the school until we were within casting distance. The bait showered once again, confirming the predators were still present.
Gabi threw out a long cast to the right side of the school, while I threw left. I let mine sink a little, only to notice the speed of the line coming off the spool rapidly increase. Yes! I love getting hit on the drop. I engaged the bail arm and lifted the rod, instantly feeling a slight bit of tension before SNIP. The mackerel's razor sharp teeth making short work of my 20lb Platypus leader. I tightly closed my eyes and grit my teeth through frustration, only to be snapped out of it by the ZZZZZZZ of Gab's drag. The line cut through the water as the fish retreated to the deeper water, pulling the dingy as it went. After a couple minutes we had the fish under the boat and could see the long silver shape. The fish wasn't having a bar of it and gave one final run, turning its head as it went, the hook fell out and dinner swam away.
On inspection of the rig, the plastic and jig head were still intact but the leader was severely compromised. I retied both rods and went back looking for the bait that was nowhere to be found. We moved out to the point to do a little bit of bottom fishing, once again this seemed difficult without a sounder, although we managed to get a couple small fish before heading back to the yacht for chips and dips, followed by another awesome dinner.
The wind had backed off and it was looking like another magic day was upon us, so we stayed most of the morning, before hopping from bay to bay and eventually grabbing a mooring at Manta Ray Bay, where we would spend the night.
Most of the northern end of Hook Island is a green zone, so fishing was out of the question, however once again this didn't hold anyone back from having fun. The snorkelling here was spectacular, with clean water, bait everywhere, turtles and more taunting coral trout. While kicked back having a little afternoon snack we noticed a charter boat about 150m away unloading packs of people to snorkel just off the beach. We could hear them shriek and squeal with excitement, while others mumbled, trying to speak with a snorkel in their mouths. Eventually they all got back on board and left the bay and another charter boat pulled in and dropped about 20 people in the water with the same vocal noises of excitement. Curiosity got the better of us and as soon as they left a couple of us jumped in the ducky with masks in hand for a look.
With the ducky secured to the mooring we slipped over the side and were instantly greeted by two big hump headed Maori wrasse looking for an easy feed. Once they realised we hadn't brought them any snacks they moved further away. Still present, just keeping their distance so as to not miss out if some food magically appeared. Not only were there wrasse here, there was some big lazy trout, GTs, sweetlip and schools of Spanish flag, all hanging about waiting for an easy meal.
That night, whilst back on board for dinner, out the back of the boat was like an aquarium. The deck lights attracted all manner of baitfish and squid of various sizes, and this in turn attracted the GTs that were seen thrashing through the light at varied intervals, mouths open and darting erratically as their prey tried to flee, occasionally breaking the surface with their tails.
As the sun rose another epic day was upon us, not that anyone was up to witness the sunrise as we had a late night that called for a bit of a sleep in. Eventually we dropped the mooring and moved around the corner into Mackerel Bay, with the hope of catching a mackerel along the way. This being our last full day, we didn't really want to spend it travelling too far. We liked this area the most and decided to stay here and enjoy the day as much as possible.
We trolled past Double Rocks, an isolated rock structure off the NE tip of the island. If we were ever going to catch a fish this was the spot. I watched the rods with anticipation, wanting for one to buckle over and begin to sing. Sadly this didn't happen once again and we continued on to our destination for the day.
As we approached the bay all eyes were forward, looking for an available mooring or suitable place to drop the pick, when the starboard corner went off with an all mighty ZZZZZ. My head snapped around to see the rod buckled over in the rod holder, while there was a shout from the bridge. I`ll admit, I kind of felt bad grabbing the rod... well for about 10 seconds anyway.
It didn't take a huge run but did feel pretty heavy, before it turned and began to swim towards the boat and line was recovered. I didn't think much of it, probably just a foul hooked Spanish. As we started to see some colour this is when the fish decided the fight wasn't over and took off with a proper blistering run. It definitely wasn't a small fish hooked in the side, it was a worthy representation of a Spanish mackerel.
I managed to gain some line, just to get a glimmer of silver before it took off again. This happened another three times. My arm was burning and I could already feel a bruise developing from the rod but on my thigh. Eventually I had the fish exhausted and alongside, where Paul tail grabbed it, pulling it on board for a quick pic before release. This fish on the first day of the trip probably would have fed us for most of the trip... but it also may have been riddled with Ciguatera, that if someone would have eaten enough of it to get poisoned, it probably would have ruined the trip.
We continued on, grabbed a mooring down the southern end and then all the usual activities fired up once again, with the highlight being diving with turtles and wrasse, through the deep narrow channels cut into the reef that looked like a hedge maze you might find at an amusement park.
As the afternoon approached we dropped the mooring and trolled our way to Blue Pearl Bay for the sunset and to be just a little closer to the harbour. Along the way we happened to raise a sailfish on a pink skirt, however it failed to find the hook regardless of the tactics we tried to entice it to bite properly.
That evening we were blessed by another magical sunset, lighting up the sky with amazing purple and red colours, topped off with a light breeze and a pod of whales putting on a show in the distance. It was a great way to end an amazing week.