Our next stop along the Coral Coast is Denham, a sleepy seaside village located on the western coastline of the Peron Peninsular and the administrative centre for world heritage listed, Shark Bay. There's a lot of distance between pockets of civilisation in these parts and it's not till mid afternoon when we check into the Denham Seaside Tourist Village. We score another 'Buy 3, Get 4' offer, which seems to be the standard off season special. It's also a special day for Tomoko and I because it's our 14th wedding anniversary. The Old Pearler restaurant claims to be the only restaurant in the world built entirely of coquina shell and is the place to go if you want to celebrate with some fancy nosh. It's also fully booked for the evening so we decide to mingle with the locals at the less romantic, Shark Bay Hotel. It's claim to fame is as the 'most westerly pub in Australia' and it's got a couple of bricks of coquina as well!! I order the rump steak, immediately attracting the attention of a hungry dog, saliva dripping uncontrollably from his mouth. He politely watches from a short distance, a concept foreign to Shaka who would use all his enthusiasm and tricks at his disposal to gain a morsel of meat. The food is in fact mediocre but not the company. It's always a pleasure to be in the presence of the cutest, funniest, loveliest and all round best chick I know. Tomoko was too embarrassed to take a selfie with me but with the magic of modern technology I managed to blend two photos into one, producing an anniversary photo so naturally authentic that only under the most stringent scrutiny could it be proven to be doctored.
With Tomoko's hands full with work, I was left to my own devices to explore the area. Not surprisingly the wind was up again, a howling southwester making the entire west coast an unattractive option. Fortunately, it's offshore on the eastern side and I make my way the 26km to Monkey Mia, synonymous with the wild dolphins that are hand fed there. Dolphin spotting is a daily occurrence during a surf in the waters around Ballina so I wasn't particularly enthused to see the dolphin feeding, which I regarded as a 'bit touristy'. But hey...I'm a tourist so I guess there's no problem.
The 'dolphin experience' begins at 8am when a ranger greets a milling crowd, on which this occasion I judge to be around 50. Despite the large gathering, we are informed that the Easter holiday period can see numbers as high as 700 and I have to agree with the ranger that we are fortunate. There are only four female Indo-Pacific Bottle nose dolphins that are fed on a daily basis. They arrive on their own accord and are fed up to three times a day. Each meal accounts for 10% of their daily needs, requiring them to still hunt for a living. On this day two of them, Piccolo and Puck, grace us with their presence. There are strict protocols in place and only after 20 minutes have elapsed since everyone enters the water, can they be fed. Though I'm not sure if this is for the benefit of the dolphins or the tourists. A bit of both I suspect. Eventually a couple of lucky volunteers are picked from the crowd to hand feed the dolphins with yellowtail. A young frenchman is doing the picking and it seems he has a penchant for young, attractive women. Having neither of these three attributes, I miss out on selection but enjoy watching the process nonetheless. Once fed, the dolphins leave and it gives me the opportunity to wet a line and I find a protected corner to unsuccessfully throw lures for half and hour. The dolphins return shortly after for brunch & I stow away the fishing gear to check them out again. There's a couple of professional cameramen here taking footage for a National Geographic documentary. They are a couple of top blokes with a dream job and I have a lengthy chat with them. Next October keep an eye out for 'Dolphin Dynasty' on the Nat Geo channel of you Austar subscription.
The wind refused to abate the following day and I saw it as a good opportunity to explore Francois Peron National Park. Named after a French explorer and zoologist, it's 52,000 hectares of arid scrub, colourful coastal views and gypsum clay pans called birridas. At one spot a birrida has been opened up by the sea, creating an inland waterway and 'Big Lagoon' was my first stop. Dropping the Navara's tyres down to 20psi and engaging high range I enthusiastically launched myself onto the sandy tracks. Twenty minutes later I arrived at a creek-like waterway with long sandbars that quickly drop into a deep channel. Being on the edge of a sanctuary zone, it looked a promising fishing spot and I made a mental note for future reference. It certainly was pretty.
National parks are a great place to spot wildlife and Francois Peron didn't disappoint. During the 35km to my next stop at Herald Bight I came across many lizards scurrying across the track and even slowed down to see a snake slither to safety. In addition to the native species there are introduced ones as well. Plenty of rabbits and a large feral goat that eyed me challengingly before fleeing into the scrub. Situated on the eastern side of the peninsular, Herald Bight is a long, sweeping beach that provides some protection from the blustery conditions. I fished the shallow waters with frozen prawns hoping to pick up a whiting but only managing to hook a long tom which thankfully got off. Despite seeing plenty of rays cruise by it didn't appear to be particularly 'fishy' and I continued north. Approaching the end of the line I encountered a massive tumbleweed rolling down the track - very desperado! It got snagged on a branch and I overtook it before a gust propelled it alongside me at 40km/h. It's size was comparable with my modern day steed (i.e.. ute) and it was a little surreal to share the road with this unusual vehicle. I pulled on the reigns when I reached the Cape Peron car park while it ended it's journey floating in the Indian Ocean. The cliffs of Cape Peron are a deep shade of red and contrast stunningly with the blue of ocean and sky. The cape sits at the confluence of two major currents and the current line is easily visible close to shore. I looks pretty 'fishy' to me and I flick soft plastics, briefly hooking a flathead before the gusty side shore wind gets the better of me and I give it away.
Nearby, Skipjack Point houses a couple of lookouts suspended high above the ocean that produce cracking views of the scene below. It's a superb vantage point from which to see marine life and I spot turtles, sharks, rays and a group of six almost stationary dark shapes that I assume are dugongs.
It's late in the day when I reinflate the tyres of the Navara at the convenient inflation station near the entrance of the park. Before heading home I take one last detour to the Peron Homestead, the remnants of a working sheep station giving an insight into the history of the place. I wander the grounds taking in the shearing shed, stockyards and shearer's quarters. It's all in relatively in good nick but still old and run down enough to give it a rustic, historic flavour. Later I hesitantly sink into a water tank being pumped with 40 degree artesian bore water. It helps relieve some niggly aches and pains but after a long day in the sun, the heat isn't especially refreshing.
Having come up short on the fishing stakes, I was keen to make amends. Tomoko is ever-presently waiting in the wings for me return home with a decent catch and I don't like to disappoint. Eventually the forecast is for lighter winds and I choose to explore the headlands and beaches of the west coast, south of Denham. Eagle Bluff is not only a great name for a headland but reputedly a good spot for flathead and whiting. I head there first but am in no rush while I wait for the tide to push in. I decide to stroll along the boardwalk that extends above the ocean and it provides spectacular views of the western coast's shallow waters. A short distance offshore are a couple of limestone islands previously mined for guano and are now bird nesting colonies. Despite the favourable forecast, the wind is still too fresh for my liking but I fish the southern side of the headland anyway. I persevere for an hour but a surprisingly strong current coupled with the fresh breeze makes it a difficult exercise and I reluctantly admit defeat, opting to explore the many headlands and beaches instead. At Fowlers camp I spot the rare sight of a couple of emus having a dip in the ocean.
On our last day in Denham I decide to take it easy. Morale was a bit low with my lack of fishing success but when I realised the wind had unexpectedly backed right off, couldn't resist one last throw of the dice. Big Lagoon attracted my attention earlier and I was confident I could find success here. I fished a sandy point with the remainder of my frozen prawns, first throw landing a nice whiting. It was a 30cm keeper and got me excited for more. Unfortunately, there were plenty of pickers too and they chewed through the last of my bait. I reckon it's prime flathead territory though and I work a squidgie, soon rewarded with an aggressive hook up. I endure a couple of powerful runs before landing a 45cm golden trevally, my first one. My flathead instincts were also correct landing a 40cm flathead. As the tide came in further I abandoned the session, preferring to watch small sharks foraging the shallows for food. Flushed with success I proudly showed Tomoko my catch and later in the evening we dined on a dazzling meal of flathead and whiting - sashimi style.
My fishing pride restored having conquered Shark Bay, I'm ready to leave for my next challenge. Until then...adios amigos.