First time Barra fisherwoman, Grace, heads west from Kununurra to attempt to hook a prized ‘Metre Barra’
Words and pictures by Grace Hamill.
The rivers and tributaries of the Kimberley offer many challenges and mysteries. Within their ecosystems you’ll find giants of many kinds, from colossal rock formations and sky-high waterfalls to enormous crocodiles, all making their presence known, albeit reticently. For the keen angler, these waterways offer the promise of landing ‘the big one’. In water-plenty towns like Kununurra, you’ll likely find many conversations about the elusive barramundi: a tasty fish that mirrors the challenging temperament of the country here.
Heading westward to Kununurra, I made it known to any avid fishermen around that I would be travelling to the Kimberley and catching a ‘metre’ barra (a milestone in the Australian fishing world) and there was no doubt about it. As an overconfident fisherwoman with (admittedly) minimal-to-no real fishing experience, my no-doubt-attitude gave giggle to some locals who had spent years trying, and failing, to join the ‘metre club’.
But then, there were the locals who would tell me the rivers here are “full of ‘em!”. And as they say, locals know best. So, I became hopeful I could convince one of them with the latter opinion to take me fishing. A true Australian Cowboy and ringer, Navarone Salerno took the bait, agreeing to give me a lesson in “Barra Fishing: for Dummies”. I, the dummy, was pretty stoked to have him on board my mission. Quite the master of bush survival, Nav has spent most of his life on the land in and around Kununurra, mustering cattle and doing whatever else cowboys do.
I’ve often found myself drawn to people like Nav who are living off the land in different ways. As Miriwoong Elder Ben Ward recently told me, “Food is for free”. Certainly, fishing sustainably for the purpose of putting food on the table is an idea I’m hooked on.
Navarone’s first tip, “fish at sunrise or sunset” is put in action when he picks me up at 3.30am. Rising in the dark, I’m already seriously questioning this whole fishing thing.
On the drive to our fishing spot, I’m fascinated as he points out the characteristics of country he is so familiar with. Nav thrives off the land here, stopping along the way to pick bush foods to snack on. He points out that there are many fantastic fishing spots in and around Kununurra including Ivanhoe Crossing and the Lower Ord (downstream of the diversion dam). Even the freshwater Upper Ord is abundant, since 200,000 baby barra were released in 2019 as part of Lake Kununurra’s Barramundi Restocking Programme.
We arrive at the Pentecost River at first light, where it’s low tide and still. I’m very aware this window of opportunity won’t last long. Once the river wakes up the tide will run back in like a torrent. I pause for a moment to take it in. “Every tide is different,” Nav says. “You’re never going to see this one again”.
Like myself, Nav likes to keep things simple. We’re not using top of the line reels or fancy lures that claim to be a “Barramundi’s favourite”. We have a hand-line each plus one more for good luck, a net for baitfish and a knife.
I’m up to my knees in mud playing the waiting game. I only hope that the crocodiles here aren’t playing the same game. The Cockburn Ranges are silhouetted like huge waves against the horizon and black cockatoos are singing their first song.
All but 15 minutes pass and the slack in one of the lines starts running out into the river. I know it’s best to let this fish tire itself out before bringing it in. Barramundi are infamous acrobats, so letting them run stops them from spitting the hook. Pulling the line in I am excited to land my first Barra – a perfect 73cm for the table. I’m one happy girl covered in mud. It’s not long before another is on.
As I find out, big fish can be lazy and occasionally a large Barramundi will not run at all after being hooked. Nav’s off wading in the mud to net some more baitfish when I notice one of our lines slowly lose the slack in it, almost gently, nothing like the fish before. Checking the line I’m surprised by the weight on the end and I assume it couldn’t be anything but a snag. Holding onto the taught reel I call Nav back to”un-snag me” from whatever I’m caught on, which ends up being…. a 112cm Barramundi! Now, I’m not fishing for compliments here but that’s a BIG fish! At 80cm saltwater Barramundi mature to become female and must be released to breed. So, this 112cm giant is a big mama. We snap a picture and set her free.
Now, it’s time for a feed on the fish we did keep. We gather wood from the gumtrees and light a fire on the banks under a big old boab. Placing the fish on hot coals we sit to watch the landscape change as the tide rushes in and birds of prey hunt from the same river that we’ve just fished.
When cooked over the coals the skin falls right off the bones. With some chilli, lime, salt and pepper there’s no better way to enjoy fresh fish. This conservation of taste is something I’ve learned from the philosophy of the Slow Food movement. You can easily ruin a good fish and lose the flavour of a fresh catch by overcomplicating things.
It’s the epitome of a perfect morning on the land here in the Eastern Kimberley. Whether this was all down to a game of chance; the lucky socks I was wearing or having the right company (thanks Nav), I’m happy to say that my first Barra fishing experience here blew my expectations right out of the water.
NAVS TOP 4 BARRA CATCHING TIPS
- Fish at sunrise or sunset, as a rule of thumb.
- Change up your bait; hey’re moody eaters. Sometimes all they are biting are lures, other days live bait, others it’s dead bait. Give it all a go to see what works on the day!
- Know where they hang (local knowledge helps a great deal).
- Practice patience and enjoy the scenery and your company.
This Barramundi fishing article first appeared on the Slow Travel Network.
