Bribie Island

Mon 18^th Bribie Island

Our first day was mainly spent sitting on a barbecue boat drinking tea and coffee, eating cinnamon bun and talking to everyone who went past. It is always a very social occasion when you visit Brendan & Robyn. Actually it was Brendan’s day off and he was off helping Jim and Gayle who also live in the marina, to work on a boat they are restoring for someone else. They came home on a high because they had managed the impossible and Jim had promised to do cartwheels if they did. I think he squibbed though. We all had a very pleasant dinner on the houseboat and we enjoyed talking cruises with Jim and Gayle while Brendan and Robyn tried to get in some of the stories about their recent trip to Cape York.

 

 

On Tuesday we took Brendan’s 1987 ex-army Land Rover and Mazda Bravo 4WD along the beach because the fishermen were going to drag their nets for mullet and tailor. You can drive along the beach for miles on Bribie because it is a gazetted road. You only need a permit.  They said that the second day of a westerly is a good time for the fish to come in. As we drove along the beach, the tide was out and it took us ages to catch up with the fishermen who were in a gang with a number of cars and boats. We could see Coloundra quite clearly in the distance. They were having morning tea when we got there. It was amazing to watch them use their knowledge of the sea to find the fish. They drove slowly along scanning the sea for “dirty water” and when they thought they were near, a bloke stood on the roof of the car to see better. Then they put the net out from a jet boat which let it out into the water in a big arc and then came up on the sand. The end of the net was attached to the front of a ute which reversed along the beach to stretch it out. At the other end a man had a rope which he looped around the net and then attached it to the front of another car further back. It reversed up the beach to a bank of sand, dragging the net in. It was then unhooked from the car and the rope was looped further along the net and reattached to the car etc. This happened many times and the men worked quickly to get the net in a soon as possible. Even so there were fish leaping out of the water and over the net, covering distances of at least 5 metres and well clear of the water. Finally when the net was on the beach there was a large pocket of tailor in it. The fishermen then went through it, putting the fish into a bin and throwing back all of the undersized ones. All the while there were kites and sea eagles on the lookout for any stragglers that didn’t make it back to the deep water quickly enough.

By the time we had finished this the tide was well on the way in and we wouldn’t have made it back along the beach the way we had come, so we continued along the beach until we got to a track that went inland. When we stopped to look at one of the beautiful views we saw a lace monitor sitting in the scrub. It was slowly making its way through the undergrowth, we think, looking for some eggs belonging to a scrub turkey that was quite near.  It certainly was a rough trip through the 22km that was almost all soft sand with incredible, and very numerous lumps and ditches. We were thrown all over the car, bouncing off our seats and swaying from side to side. Only our seatbelts kept us in the same order in the car. Robyn assured us that he track would improve and become a gravel road after a while. It didn’t. I felt like I had gone twelve rounds by the time we got back to town for a very late lunch.

Later, Brendan’s friend arrived with three huge buckets, filled to the top with enormous strawberries. I hulled and cut up half of one bucket to make the first batch of jam. We estimated that there was at least three kg in that lot alone. While I did that, Mick cooked some of the fish we had been given and Robyn did the vegies. Trouble was, we were too full to eat any of the strawberries which were huge and tasty – well I had to sample one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mick decided I had to have a ride in Brendan’s Land Rover Reluctantly I stood on the caravan step and just managed to perch the very edge of my posterior on the side of the seat. From there, there were no hand holds to drag myself in the rest of the way, so Mick had to go around to the driver’s side and pull me in. Now I know why men love vehicles that look like this one. When we stopped at the shop, Mick went in and I opted to stay in the car. (Actually I didn’t know how I was going to get out without breaking my legs, and I certainly wouldn’t have been able to get back in again.) While Mick was in the shop, every man who came near stopped to look at it – so much for the camouflage paint job. They certainly wouldn’t have been looking at me. They would never have known I was there because the seat was laid back so far that I could barely see over the dashboard.