Today I want to start a little mini-series of articles that are sparked by some sort of connection to song titles. It occurs to me that I have probably done this before but haven’t made the connection.
So I begin with the famous Otis Redding song which was released in 1967, my last year of high school. We were all into pop music back then but this song, an R&B number rather than a rock song, broke into the charts and was hugely successful. Glenn Mitchell, the pop music “guru” in our year predicted big success for this track when it first appeared, and, as usual, he was right. Listening to it takes me right back there.
And you don’t have to be a genius to figure out that the connection is with Tathra Wharf, my favourite fishing spot on the south coast of NSW. In 1987 we moved to Canberra from Ispwich in Queensland and then, as now, Canberrans migrated in droves down the Kings Highway to the coast every long weekend and every school holiday. Batemans Bay was the favoured venue and it still is today where, in the Summer time, there are more cars with ACT plates than there are ones with NSW plates.
I’d done a lot of fishing in Queensland when we lived there and i was keen to continue that and, when I asked around, the general consensus was that Batemans Bay was pretty much a no-go unless you had a boat. I am a dry land fisherman, subscribing to my late brother-in-law’s adage that “being in a boat is like being in gaol – only you can drown.” The suggestion of where I could go fishing from the land where I could cast into fairly deep water was Tathra and the wharf that has made the town famous.
So I first went there in 1988 and found that, everything that I’d been told was true. The wharf was picturesque, the surrounding likewise and the pickings off the wharf definitely made the 2 hour drive from Canberra worth doing.
Over the intervening years I have fished the wharf dozens and dozens of times. Most visits results in a decent catch although sometimes you can leave empty-handed. However, I have always felt that a day sitting on the wharf watching the many aspects of nature on display is well and truly worth the trip whether the fish are running or not. Australian Salmon are the most common catch along with bonito, kingfish, tailor and mackerel.
The wharf sits in a natural bay that, in years gone by was a working harbour with coastal freighters tying up and either loading or unloading on the way to and from Sydney. It was the depth of the bay and the relatively sheltered nature of it that made it an ideal place to build a deep-water wharf.
The wharf itself faces north into the bay and, as you can see, the water around is deep.
Time doesn’t allow me to tell you all the stories that I have accumulated from the wharf. Like the time that a teenage boy turned up just on dusk to do some fishing. He’d played soccer in Cooma that afternoon and hit the road straight after the game. No sooner did he have his line in the water than he hooked up and it was something big. He was very excited and we didn’t have the heart to tell him straight away that he had a huge stingray on the other end of the line. The fight was long and arduous but the stingray was winning all the rounds, taking more and more line off the young man’s reel without giving him any encouragement in return. Soon we had to tell him that his chance of success was zero and that he should cut his losses. Despite our advice he decided to fight on, walking from one end of the wharf to the other until there was no more wharf to walk. Some time later, standing on the very end of the wharf, he watched as the ray took ALL the line on his reel and disappeared into the depths having not conceded ANY ground at all and leaving him with sore arms and no result for his efforts.
Of course the wharf has seen its share of tragedy as well. In November 2008 a young father with his two young sons in a stroller fell to their deaths off the wharf. Despite the best efforts of fishermen on the the wharf at the time, all three of them perished. In April 2014 a 63 year old woman who was training for the beach to wharf swimming race failed to emerge from the water after the training session. She had been the last in the group that were swimming but no trace of her was ever found. A large shark had been sighted in the vicinity earlier in the day and it is believed that she fell victim to it.
My brother and I sighted a huge Bronze Whaler Shark off the wharf one day. The sea was dead calm and you could see well down into the deep water. Paul and I were fishing there and we were the only people on the wharf when the shark cruised by, heading from in at the beach into the open waters. He was cruising just below the surface, his dorsal fin slicing through the water. Water magnifies what is under it, I know, but the thing was about the diameter of a 44 gallon drum and was at least 3 metres long. BUT THERE WAS NOBODY THERE TO TELL!!!
Locals and regulars observe a well-practised ritual when a big fish is hooked up. Everyone else pulls their lines in and clears the space for the hopeful with a big salmon on. It’s about 4 metres from the deck to the water so there’s no thought of winding the fish up once you’ve tired him out, any decent sized fish will simply snap your line and swim away. So the drill is that you bring the fish to the wharf and, when he’s just below the surface, you give your rod a solid tug and swing the fish up onto the deck in a smooth action. Everyone knows to stand clear. Well, everyone except a very polite British tourist who was standing just behind Paul as he was swinging a big salmon up out of the water. In spite of his loud, “LOOK OUT!” she didn’t. She was rewarded with a smack on the side of her head by a 3kg Australian Salmon. Fortunately, after she had recovered from the shock, she saw the funny side of the situation. Needless to say, everyone else on the wharf thought it was pretty funny, too.
Of course, there is a motorcycle connection, there has to be. No, I don’t take my fishing gear down to the wharf on the bike; totally impractical. But the town itself is a wonderful motorcycling destination, either as a destination in itself or as a stop-off point on a ride south that usually ends up in the Snowy Mountains or even further south. Tathra Pub used to be a cheap and cheerful location for a bistro lunch or dinner but it has recently undergone a 2 year restoration and it is now a 5 star venue with prices to match, unfortunate, really.
But getting there, well, that’s a different story. The obvious route is straight down the Princes Highway. Well, it’s not really straight as the Princes is a delightfully twisty road, but there is an even better way. South of Narooma you take the Bermagui Road and head east towards the ocean. The road is like a switchback and eventually brings you in at the northern end of Tathra. A VERY enjoyable way of covering the territory.
So I have to close by saying that I enjoy sittin’ on the dock of the bay. There is something incredibly therapeutic watching the ocean and the sky change colours during the day. It’s never the same and it’s always new. I never tire of it and somehow it has the effect of putting life into perspective. And, even if I come home with an empty bag, I can always say that I had a wonderful day.
Thanks for reading.