While Garry was holed up in Honolulu for a few days, twiddling his thumbs in a cheap Airbnb and activating his U.S. Residency Visa, I remained behind in Cairns with November Rain, awaiting the arrival of our new crew, as well as provisioning for our next trip out to the Great Barrier Reef. During the downtime, the ship’s broken refrigerator/freezer got a big birthday with a new motor and compressor installation. She’s still an old lady, but now sports a facelift that costs more than my own.
Kale was the first crewman to arrive and spent a couple of days exploring Cairns on foot, literally. He went walkabout in bare feet, a common behavior for both Hobbits and Kiwis alike. On a mission to buy some new Crocs, I suppose he thought he’d save time by not having to remove shoes to try on shoes. He returned back to the boat a couple of hours later, with second-degree burns on his soles from the scorching pavement. He’s already into the first aid kit and we haven’t even left the dock.
As is the requirement for all of November Rain’s overseas guests, Cody arrived from Auckland with a crucial boat part: a replacement cap for the fuel tank. During our last fuel up, Garry dropped the ship’s diesel cap into the murky, crocodile-infested water. No amount of coaxing could convince me to dive for it, so Garry had to turn the boat around and return to the marina. A ring-around to the local chandleries as well as one in New Zealand told him it would be impossible to find a replacement for the 22-year-old fitting. A quick Uber to the hardware store, where Garry cobbled together some PVC plumbing bits that had the same threads as the lost stainless cap. We were back in business and on our way. The temporary cap is a bit of a toe-stubber but works perfectly until the new one can be fitted.
Kale and Cody are like peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth, brothers from another mother, doppelgängers, and the muscle to the hustle. While they were previously unknown to each other before arriving in Cairns, within a day, strangers were asking if they were related. I swear there is a bromance happening right before my eyes, which makes my heart happy to see our crew mesh.
Both are keen fishermen and enjoy professional careers on the water. Kale is the deckhand for the sought-after Pelagic Charters while Cody is a captain for a private 60-foot Riviera, based out of Auckland. They are here with us on a busman’s holiday. Both men are jovial, sport bushy beards, and have big appetites to match their beefy frames. I began to fret that I didn’t have enough provisions for a two-week tour on the reef. There are no grocery stores out there, but maybe we could plunder a neighboring mothership if we run low on supplies? With Kale resembling Blackbeard and Cody, “The Mountain” from GOT, no reasonable person would argue with them.
Garry returned from Hawaii around midnight and I met him at the locked marina gate to let him in. The next morning, we loaded on 1500 liters of fuel, (Garry being hyper-vigilant with the diesel cap), then headed for to the reef. The crew had some fun reeling in a few Spanish Macks, which were released. October is out of season for the species, but fortunately, we still have half a freezer full of Scaly Macks to use as skip baits from our previous trip.
To my delight, the crew had been properly schooled in boat etiquette. I was flabbergasted to discover that Cody had made up his bunk in the morning. In fact, he is the first crew member ever aboard November Rain to accomplish this. After I praised his efforts effusively, Kale’s bunk quietly took on the same neat and tidy appearance. The crew pitches in with chores, including cooking, without prompting, and they understand all the ins and outs of managing power and water conservation aboard a vessel. In fact, they are so helpful that Garry and I finally feel like we are on our own holiday. To be fair to our past crew, neither will have to face the boredom of night watches nor treacherous ocean crossing during their tour of duty, and they enjoy mostly peaceful nights' sleep in calm anchorages behind the protection of the reef.
Our first day out was so-so. We didn’t raise a marlin, but the crew was fresh and kept their eyes on the skip baits and the lures. After dinner, they had some fun catching a few reef fish on topwater gear, releasing them.
On the second afternoon, Garry just about choked on a mouthful of Coke while trying to announce a marlin that came into the gear. The marlin had a go at one of the two skip baits, grabbed it, pulled some line before dropping it. The crew and I bottlenecked on the stairs, racing each other down from the flybridge. Kale worked the bait, reeling it in and dropping it back, as Garry motored ahead and I climbed into the chair. The fish came back for a couple more whacks but eventually peeled off, not interested in the free buffet. Kale rigged a fresher bait to replace the stale one, and we carried on. A couple of hours later, a monster barracuda hit the outrigger on a lure. The stinky barracuda didn’t stand a chance on the heavy tackle and was quickly released with a gaff puncture in its side (no regrets).
On the third afternoon, Garry spotted birds working a patch of tuna.drag Cody dragged a popper through the school, hooked up, but lost the fish at the boat. Twenty minutes later, he hooked up again, the reel screamed off with an even bigger tuna. The taxman showed up and took more than his fair share, leaving Cody to reel in the head.
Hours turned into days, endlessly trolling for bait in the mornings and marlin in the afternoon, with poor returns on both. Bait was scarce, and we weren’t keeping up with the demands of hungry wahoo who kept chomp-chomping on our baits. By Friday morning, the supply had dwindled down to the last Scaly Mack on ice.
Friday morning’s bait session netted us only one Scaly Mack and a small bluefin tuna. After some debate about whether the bluefin was food or bait, the tuna went into the bait bin. “We are here to catch a black marlin, not eat tuna,” Cody pronounced. The day rounded out with a couple more Scaly Macks before Garry dropped anchor at Lizard Island for the night.
After a few beers and games of pool at the “World Famous” Marlin Bar, we returned to NR for some shark wrangling. Five or six large nurse sharks circled at the back of the boat, illuminated by the underwater lights. The crew had repurposed some of the stale bait as fish food, and Cody and Kale hand-fed the sharks, bravely stealing pats on the top of their snouts as they passed by. The lone reef shark (with teeth) was intentionally ignored. The amusement was so much fun, we had to stop ourselves from raiding our fresh bait once the stale bait had run out.
The wind had howled all night, and we knew we were in for a rough day. Bait fishing got off to a good start with a few Scaly Mackerels, as well as throwbacks of Giant Trevallies and Spanish Mackerels. Even though we were getting frequent hits every few minutes, there was a bit of the dropsies; at least half fell off before they reached the boat, and half of the rest were foul hooked, taking twice the effort to reel them in. The seas were rough, with 18-20 knot winds, and we were still behind the reef! Garry made the decision to continue with bait fishing in the afternoon, as the open water was too rough to troll for marlin.
From famine to feast, the bite got so hot that afternoon, we could barely keep up. We were running the two Talicas, towing bib lures, and I was running from side to side, reeling in Scaly Macks, one after another, while Kale and Cody alternated between gutting/gilling duty and leading/unhooking fish. The bait freezer was chock-a-block by 1:30.
Unfortunately, the marlin weren't biting as hard as the bait, and we failed to raise a single marlin over the next couple of very long and rough sea days. Kale's birthday came on Monday, and Garry semi-promised him a birthday fish. We had three good shots in the late afternoon, but as soon as Kale was in the chair and the gear was cleared, two of the marlin spat their baits. The bad luck continued when the third marlin did a big jump and cut through the 700 lb leader.
The wind was up and it was too rough for another night on the reef, so Garry high-tailed it to the Lizard Island Anchorage, arriving well after dark. The sharks showed up again, our motors sounding the dinner bell; apparently, they were eager for another round of fisherman wrangling.
While our house fridge/freezer is finally working somewhat adequately, the bait freezer suddenly went on strike. Garry and Cody were up until midnight, replacing the water pump, saving the locker full of bait for some future wahoo feeding. Also, the toilet continues to give us problems with a leaky valve that requires the user to turn on/off the water pump at the circuit board or risk flooding the head. Garry placed an order online for a replacement part, only to find the item was coming from China with a 6-week lead time.
We had one hit in the late afternoon off the #10 Ribbon Reef by a small (estimated 80 kg) marlin that was too small to take the big bait. We spent the next couple of nights holed up again at Lizard Island, waiting out the rough. Intel garnered from a friendly captain over a beer at the Marlin Bar told us the marlin were partial to tuna over scads, which was useful info. The next morning we picked up three baits on the way to the fishing grounds, including two tuna. A marlin took one of the tuna but then when "yeah, nah, not feeling it", spat it out, and a wahoo swooped into to finish the leftovers.
Finally, Cody's last day on the boat arrived on day 13, after 4 hits, we finally caught his marlin. It was the first marlin to hit one of our swimmers (all the others were lost to wahoos). It was hooked in the belly fin and came up lassoed, but we'll take it as a win. It was a little fellow, about 80 kg, and was outgunned with Cody in the chair on 60 kg gear, a David and Goliath situation. Kale wired it and held on until Cody could jump in the water for a swim with the fish, a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The boys spotted a huge free jumper not long after, only 200 meters from the boat, and it was enough to keep them circling the same patch until well after dark. We had to race in at 17 knots for 3 hours to make the marina by 9 p.m.
It’s a mad change of crew day, groceries and fueling and then right back out there, with our mate, Billy and Kale continuing on with us. Billy has arrived from New Zealand with with a suitcase full of boat parts, per contract with all incoming guests. Lets hope the bite comes on next week!
If you enjoyed reading this, please consider making a small donation, allowing us to help with publishing costs and to keep our blog Ad Free.
Like usual, a great read Lori.
Good that the crew is having fun too.