The Brief Pelican

My wife's Australian cousin and his wife are visiting us in the UK for a few weeks, arriving at the beginning of the Northern Hemisphere Winter. Here is my memory of our own trip to Australia a few years ago now about the same time of year down in the Southern Hemisphere.

From a distance and allowing for the distorting effect of the heat haze on the red tarmac roadway the group of young mothers with baby buggies appeared to be sporting a mass of radio receiving antennae.

I was not surprised at this image.

After all, I was in Australia, Bribie Island just above Brisbane and perhaps communication by CB or short wave was more efficient and cost effective than a mobile phone when actual signal coverage and strength may not have been brilliant.

On closer inspection the thin, whippy cane-like appendages were in fact fishing rods.

These were rigged ready for immediate casting with only the selected bait to be attached to the carefully stowed barbed hook. I expected a tin of maggots ,worms or dead-bait to be chilling nicely in the cool box beneath the buggy alongside snacks and drinks for the wide age range of babies, infants and young children crowding around and being swept along by the momentum of the group.

Parking up, I watched as the convoy of young mums parted company on the promenade of Pumicestone Passage and headed across the scrub and light sand to the freshly tide washed beach and took up what was obviously their favourite fishing spots.

Their arrival with a pre-prepared array of baits and food was the signal for the large pelicans to sweep in over the slow tidal pools and take up a watching brief for any titbits that worked loose from the hook or were discarded into the stiff offshore breeze by the children.

It was lunch and the best time and place to relax, play with the kids, eat and , of course, catch fish was down on the seashore,

No sooner had the group arrived it seemed as though they were on the move again.

In fact an hour had passed very quickly and with rod and tackle again lashed to the buggies it was back to the school to drop off the children. I could only speculate what the mothers would then do, perhaps a bit of wild game hunting, shooting kangaroos, taunting koala's or just a bit of supermarket shopping before the end of afternoon school.

The whole lifestyle of casual angling seemed a very attractive pursuit especially in such a beautiful setting of tidal passage, lagoons, tropical climate and with a distant view of the Glass House Mountains on the mainland.

I had to have some of that and tooled up ready with a borrowed rod, reel and hooks from the lock-up store below the holiday apartment.

A thawed pack of squid bits was bought from one of the promenade kiosks and I was ready to pick my spot on the beach.

It would not be a good idea to be confronted by a young mum for taking up her usual fishing pitch so I wandered off a bit further away from the road and built up Promenade. The tide was quite swift through the narrow passage between the island and Queensland proper and a bit murky following some weeks of heavy rain and flooding further up the coast.

The beach dipped away sharply into the shallows and my first cast was into the darker colder water some 10 yards out. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that a sole pelican had arrived but not recognising me as a regular or local , and in the absence of any accompanying children, it was a bit wary and stood off at a safe distance.

There were plenty of distractions from watching the bobbing fishing float.

I could see the emergence of dolphin fins further out in the faster water as they surfaced to avoid the small fishing craft and speed boats that worked or could be hired out on a daily basis from the large marinas and yards.

Nearer the shore amongst the debris of sizeable branches, boughs and vegetation from the up-country swollen rivers and streams I could see a Dugong dredging and grazing for seagrasses. It was oblivious to the activities on and around the water which, unfortunately, contributed to regular injury or death amongst the species from boat collisions and propellor impact. I had never seen a creature like it before in the wild , hippo sized but graceful and majestic in its movements. A bit like a bottom feeder vacuum cleaner or one of those automatic swimming pool cleaners from previous Villa holidays.

I did't really care if I caught any fish that day. I didn't anyway. It was very much a sideshow to the cavalcade of animal life and wider nature that I was seeing all around me.

Time had flown by and with some trepidation I hastily packed up my gear and left the beach just as the gang of young mums returned for their afternoon activity and tea-time picnic and social.

I donated the last squid bits to the pelican and took a photograph as it juggled and teased them into its cavernous beak.

Back in the UK that picture, as the screensaver on my mobile phone, is a reminder of that idyllic afternoon in a warm climate and beautiful surroundings.