Vagrants & Varmints

Denham, Star Date Who Cares.

Leaving the terrified gay Christian brigade to the horrors of the Hamelin Detention Centre, we roll into Denham (near Monkey Mia) for some fishin' fun. Ignoring the six thousand "no camping" signs, we park for the night at the boat ramp. Waggin' Trail now consists of the bus, Duncan's ute, his tinny, trailer and of course Duncan, who is thrilled at being free of his indentured slavery at Hamelin. Half an hour of phone & internet action & he's lined up a series of plumbing & building contracts in Carnarvon, bought me lunch and rigged our fishing lines. He's grasped the concept of my film biz work very quickly. "You're my production manager and I'm your grip!" Delirious marriage proposals are thankfully down to one per three fish.

Night fishing off the jetty is magic. We catch a heap of squid, some snook and a snapper. The sky is a magnificent display of stars & the Milky Way. We fish most of the night and Smokey comes along, fascinated & chatting away to us - he can tell we're catching things and I am absolutely positive he is asking for his own fishing rod. I'm learning fast how to cut up bait, rig a 3-gang and get over my squeamishness at getting the fish off the hook, using professional fishing phrases such as "Eek!", "Aaggh!" and "Ow stop biting me!"  A sea snake cruises past under the jetty, very pretty.

In the morning we're waken up by the council ranger who says he'll let us off with a warning "this time". As Duncan cheerfully points out, this means we have officially gone from being trailer trash to just vagrants. The fine is $100 and as this is actually cheaper than most of the accommodation in Denham we debate calling the ranger back and booking ourselves in for 3 days of fines.