Our arrival from Papua New Guinea into Cairns was on a Thursday afternoon, too late in the day to clear in with the authorities. Captain Garry, myself, and Elmo, our crewman, were utterly exhausted from the 3 day/2 night crossing in a side-on 25-knot seas and relieved that the ordeal was finally over. We were looking forward to some R&R and modern conveniences after spending the previous 2 months in Vanuatu, Solomon Islands, and PNG about our Sportfishing Catamaran, November Rain.
Garry had called ahead to the Marlin Marina for a catamaran berth and he won the lottery when they assigned us an end tie, at the quiet end of the D dock. It was our first night in town, but we were legally confined to the boat, the yellow Q flag waving off of November Rain’s flybridge. After we tied off, Elmo paced around the boat like a tiger in a cage, every once in a while, letting out a deep sigh. He was itching to jump ship and explore the vibrant nightlife that was calling out to him from the other end of the dock.
In the morning, a Bio-Security Officer dropped by and after a round of Q & A, gave us permission to remove the Q flag and leave the boat, with the caveat that everything else would have to remain aboard until a proper bio inspection was done. Two Immigration and Customs officers arrived shortly after, with more paperwork and more serious questions. Swabs samples were taken to test for contraband. We were finally free to leave the boat, but Garry and I still needed to wait for Biosecurity to finish their checks on our food stores before we could bring anything new aboard.
Within minutes of clearance, Elmo shot off the boat as if he’d just been pardoned from a life sentence. He returned a few hours later with a fresh haircut, new jandals, a beer buzz, and an epiphany about his career choice as a real estate agent in the depressed Auckland market. The glitz of Australia had won him over and he declared that he wanted to live and work in Cairns, preferably as a deckhand on a lavish sport fishing boat.
It’s not hard to understand why Elmo’s falling in love with Cairns. The world’s most elite sport fishing boats are lined alongside the world-renowned marina. Deckies and captains swap tales of monster fish over cold beers every afternoon in nearby bars or the cockpit of their zillion-dollar sport fishers. The weather is lovely, sunny, and warm and the nights are cool enough to enjoy a light duvet cover. The town is full of cafes, restaurants, bars, and tour operators, who fill giant catamarans with sunburnt tourists for adventure excursions to the Great Barrier Reef.
The city’s Esplanade is a beautiful example of how providing free recreational and fitness activities for young and old alike, tourists as well as residents, revitalizes a seaside town into a world-class destination. If you build it, they will come. A wide wooden boardwalk hugs the shoreline/mud flats (depending upon the tides) and continues for miles. Here you’ll find retiree bird watchers, lovers strolling hand in hand, runners/joggers, and bicyclists. Children, swimmers, and sunbathers frolic in the enormous “Lagoon”, a concrete shallow pool sprinkled with fountains. Tented BBQ areas offer free gas grills and encourage friends and families to picnic in the grass. There are enormous shaded playgrounds with water features, fitness equipment circuits, a massive skateboard park, a rock-climbing wall, beach volleyball & tennis courts, off-leash dog parks, and even a Ferris wheel. The city offers free yoga, tai chi, water aerobics, and Zumba classes. Special events pop up from time to time and sports fans gather around a giant TV broadcasting international sporting events, enjoying the chairs, tables, and umbrellas provided by the city. Cafes, bars, and hotels parallel the boardwalk across the road. Street performers and musicians appear whenever the weather is nice or a cruise ship is in town. Even the city’s main hospital occupies a chunk of the waterfront property.
The next few days flew by as we caught up on civilized things like proper haircuts, dental visits, restaurant meals, long walks along the esplanade, provisioning, and boat repairs. Garry and I rented a car through a peer-to-peer app and spent a day browsing various chandleries and tackle shops. Gearbox oil and a new oil transfer pump were sourced while the two faulty alternators were dropped off for repairs and readied the next day. I ordered a replacement countertop ice maker online and had it shipped to the local post shop for collection.
A few days after we returned the rental car, the owner messaged, asking if we had left two alternators in the boot. Garry hadn't even realized they were missing! I arranged to retrieve them, carting them the 8 blocks to the marina, along with the 15kg ice maker that had just arrived in the post, all in a dock trolley.
We started to get a bit spoiled with the unlimited shore power and water, provided by the marina’s umbilical cord. I developed a daily gelato habit from the nearby creamery that quickly added a few pounds. Elmo took increasingly long showers at the marina’s luxury facilities, equipped with endless hot water and rainfall shower heads. We started using the longer cycles on the boat's washing machine and enjoyed cleaner clothes and fresher sheets. Heck, we could run the cabin’s air conditioner all night if we so desired. The brutal conditions of the Solomon Islands were quickly fading away in our memory.
Five days after arriving in Cairns, I came down with a wicked case of COVID. Since the incubation period is five days, I suspect I may have picked it up the day we arrived, perhaps, ironically from the Biosecurity agent. It knocked me down into bed for 3 days. I passed it on to Garry a few days later who also took to bed, but Elmo seemed completely unaffected. He’s been pounding the pavement, walking the docks, networking at bars, exploring employment opportunities in the marine industry. His hound-dogging is paying off and he’s now mulling over several legitimate offers, both in Australia as well as back home in New Zealand. He’s mapped out a career pathway up to the rank of Ship’s Engineer and given his tenacity, I’m sure he will eventually achieve his goals.
The Black Marlin Season on the Great Barrier Reef doesn’t officially start until October, and we had arrived a full month early. Regardless, it’s been too windy to get out beyond the reef. But, within a few days of city life, boredom pushed us out for a tiki tour to Fitzroy Island. One night of rough weather and COVID-19 symptoms pushed us back into the comforts of the Marlin Marina. We were getting soft.…
November Rain’s main refrigerator/freezer finally kicked the bucket. It had suffered a prolonged illness that began in Vanuatu, grew significantly worse in the Solomons, and then rallied into remission in Papua New Guinea. After a descaling treatment with Barnacle Buster in Cairns, it seemed to be improving. But three days after the chemotherapy treatment, with a cough and then a thud, the motor completely seized. Given that it’s an original 2002 model, I think Garry got his money’s worth and we are grateful that it waited until we arrived in Cairns to die. A marine refrigerator repairman was called out, signed the death certificate, carted the motor away to the morgue, and ordered us a new, younger model.`
Fortunately, we were able to move our frozen food into the outside bait freezer. The new countertop ice maker is now working furiously 16 hours a day, churning out about 14 kgs of ice, which I empty every hour or so into the defunct fridge box. While not cold enough for meat and milk, the “icebox” works well enough to keep cheese and vegetables fresh. Our lack of refrigeration is no reason to stay in port.. the weather has improved and it’s time to head out for a 10-day fishing trip and try for an early season Black Marlin.
A favorable weather window allowed a few days to travel north, along the reef, towards Lizard Island. The first order of business is to catch the fish to be used as skip baits and swim baits. Skip baits are large fish that are gutted, gilled, and sewn up with wax string to reinforce the strength of the bait. The bait needs to hold together if a marlin grabs it. Skip baits are dragged along the surface, creating a large splash on the surface, similar to the way resin lures work, but at slower speeds, around 5 knots. They only last a few hours at most before becoming mushy. Swim baits are smaller fish, also gutted and gilled, and a lead sinker is sewn into the head cavity, to keep the fish below the surface. The bait’s spine is manually broken in several places to improve the motion under the water, hopefully, imitating a live swimming fish. There are dozens of theories and techniques on how to rig swim baits and Garry’s doing his bit of scientific research by rigging all his baits differently to see which method will catch us a marlin.
The preferred species for skip baits are called Scaly Macks, aka Shark Mackerel, while the smaller Scads make good swim baits. We run two Talicas with 80lb braid, towing Rapala style bib lures on each corner, which worked well hooking the Scaly Macks, plus some bycatch of Job Fish, Spanish Mackerel, Giant Treveli and Coral Trout. The best bycatch so far was a small Southern Blue Fin Tuna, about 10 kg, a surprise catch, and a first for the boat.
Scads were harder to come by. Over the two days trolling north, we netted more than a dozen nice Scaly Macks, plus 3 or 4 Scads. During one particularly hot bite, Elmo was working full-time with the gutting and gilling and we were catching bait faster than we could process them. Scaly Macks are smelly, stinky fish, and gutting and gilling them is disgusting work. The bait shares space in the bait freezer alongside our food, which has absorbed some of the fishy odor.
The mornings were spent trolling for bait fish behind the calm of the reef, and weather permitting, afternoons were spent towing baits for Black Marlin beyond the reef in deep water. The fishing day ends with enough daylight left, to return safely back to the reef for the night’s anchorage, usually about 6 p.m. Garry makes his way up to the tuna tower to help with visualizing the coral heads that threaten to tear November Rain apart as he snakes into an anchorage within the reef. Elmo spends his evening catching various reef fish with soft baits, always releasing what he catches.
Our gear for marlin has been upgraded since we were here in 2018 when we had to make do with 80kg rods/reels spooled with 130 lb top shot and 80 lb backing. Back then, we had brought a knife to a gunfight. Since then, Garry’s been to the gun show and invested in proper 60 kg Shimano Reels, mounted on 130 lb Bent Butt Rods, spooled with 130 lb line, and 700 lb leader. We are running two dredges, a mud flap towed deep off the back, between the two hulls and the second is a pink squid spread, dragged off the starboard side on the surface, with the electric reel for retrieval. We usually tow two skip baits off of the chair rods and one swim bait off a shotgun.
Every once in a while a reel goes off. Most of the time, it's a wahoo strike, chopping one of our precious baits. Early in the trip, we had a hit off one of the skip baits from a small marlin, maybe 70 kgs, but he would not be enticed to hit again. One particularly large mark on the sounder had us working a small area for two days, alongside another boat, which must have seen the same mark. We know they are here and you don’t leave fish to find fish.
The wind got up to 20 knots, so we wasted a day hanging around Lizard Island on anchor, ogling at the super yacht mother ships swinging beside us. In the evening, we dinghyed ashore to mingle at the World Famous Marlin Bar, only open on Tuesdays and Friday nights. We got our egos busted by a few games of pool on a crooked table with tight pockets, but the pool was free, which helped offset the overpriced drinks and food.
In the morning, as we headed south, we had a hit on one of the skip baits. Elmo raced down from the flybridge to feed the bait back, but the marlin dropped it. As he was reeling in the bait to inspect the damage, the marlin hit again. “We’re on!, We’re on” Garry yelled. I jumped into the fighting chair and Elmo helped me strap into the rod with the chair harness. The fight time was fairly short, maybe twenty minutes, thanks to our new heavy guns. The fish treated us to a nice jump right at the back of the boat, it’s what we live for. Elmo wired the fish, and Garry cut the leader at the hook and released the fish unharmed. Our first Black Marlin of the trip!!! High fives went all around! It's only late September, so we hope that it means a great season is yet to come. We estimated the fish to be about 140kgs by our eyes.
The next afternoon, Garry spotted a school of yellowfin tuna feeding on the surface. Garry convinced Elmo to drag a popper behind the boat. Bam, Bam, within minutes, Elmo had boated two yellowfin, both caught with a barbless popper on the Stella. The gaff did the permanent damage and they went into the fish bin. An hour later, he reeled in a bigger yellowfin, hooked on a towed Rapala lure, which was released. The boiling schools of yellowfin that we never found in Vanuatu were here in Australia.
On the final day, a small black, maybe 100 kg, grabbed a skip bait, dropped it, then came back again and did the windscreen wiper thing before he disappeared. Garry marked a few more marlin on the sounder, but driving over them all afternoon wouldn't raise them. We know they're here...
Garry’s off to Honolulu for a week, to activate his U.S. Residence Visa, a critical part of the pathway to his Green Card, which grants him U.S. Permanent Residency. We started the green card process when we owned the sport fishing charter in Hawaii, and after two years of time, effort, and money, we'd hate to let it lapse. Given that he will need to spend at least 6 months in the U.S. every year to maintain his status is something we are going to have to address with our plans going forth.
While Garry's away, sipping Mai Tais on Waikiki beach, I’ll remain in Cairns with the boat, prepping for our next trip and overseeing the installation of the new refrigerator motor. I'll probably eat a lot of gelato as well. Elmo is leaving us for greener pastures aboard a 75' Nordhavn Trawler, Sockeye Blue, where he’s been hired on as paid crew. His replacements, Kale and Cody, both Kiwis will be arriving next week, bringing with them their professional fishing experience. Cody is a charter Captain, and Kale, a deckhand, both flying to Cairns for a busman's holiday. They'll arrive just in time for the official start of the Cairns Black Marlin Season. Let's make it a season to remember!
Thank you for enjoying our content! Your support is greatly appreciated. By making a small donation, you can help cover the publishing costs and maintain our site ad-free.
You write such a great blog Lori, love reading your adventures and hope that you have plenty of Black Marlin stories to share in the coming month.
Another great blog! Glad to see you’re getting onto some game fish too! The plate of tuna looks delicious! Matt