I love the relaxed feeling I get when the last of the city suburbs phase out into bushland. It is then that the tension of the hustle and bustle of work life eases and you know you are on holiday.
Unable to secure accommodation in the Margaret River region at short notice Walpole became our intended destination for a post Christmas break.
The journey south was the fourth time I would be staying in the sleepy town of Walpole. This is a town that you can miss if you blink while driving across the South Coast Highway. A great place to kick back and not do much.
Aside from the beautiful old forests that Loren and me love to drive through (and hug the odd Tingle or two) breaming in the two inlets always was itching in my mind.
As always the local Acanthopagrus butcheri badboys engaged me in some tug of war. They pulled on the owner stinger trebles hanging of pretty Japanese shads while I lent back on my Ultrabream peeling braid of the new Luvias. As always, I loved it. The average size of the bream was lower then in previous trips but a 40+er still came to the party. In between the century of blackies a few tarwhine, bluespot, king george and yellowfin whiting interrupted the hypnotic wiggle action of the hard plastics. I am still looking for that Ultralight Crown division match with the local giant herring torpedos, next time!
An overnight trip to Albany was part of our plans for this trip with a little bit of sightseeing and catching up with an old mate of Loren’s to distract me from my piscatorial dreaming disorder. Thanks to local knowledge from young gun breamer Grayson I got pointed in the direction of Oyster Harbour flats. Seaweed and almost stepping on a local shark aside I had a ball, them Albany bream fight way harder then their Walpole cousins. I only had a brief taste of the Albany luring and I liked it, I got to get back soon and do some exploring.
Cheers
Pete