Brisk winds got us from Dunk Island to Goold Island in only 2 hours. Ian was hoping it didn't turn nasty because he had bought bananas during our last shop.
Bananas are meant to be bad luck on boats so I thought I might like to buy one and eat it before we got back to the boat. Ian had the same idea but he had bought a bunch of them and was ignoring his superstitions.
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We had a relaxing afternoon after anchoring off Goold Island and did a bit of fishing, deciding to go over to the island the next day. Ian had better luck than I did by not catching anything. I caught a small fish (hooked in the gills), which I released, Unfortunately, it had been mortally wounded and slowly sank, belly up. I felt lousy!
Cameron and Colin had also anchored at Goold and had gone over to the island in their dinghy. On their way back, they dropped in to warn us about a particularly nasty stretch on the beach, and whatever we did, don't go there.
Horrified, we said "Crocodiles?'
No, it was Paper Wasps. Colin explained that one minute they were walking along the beach, minding their own business, the next thing he was being stung all over. They even got up his board shorts.
We tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.
I stayed well away.
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That afternoon, we sailed to Hinchinbrook Island via the Hinchinbrook Channel and anchored in Gayundah Creek a beautiful mangrove lined estuary set against the magnificent backdrop of Mount Bowen.
It was a perfect habitat for mud crabs
THE MUD CRAB SAGA
About 14 months ago, while in Darwin, we decided we should buy a crab pot as there were millions of Mud Crabs out there in the mangroves waiting to be eaten.
Although we almost set it once (see A Conundrum), it has just been one of those items which adorn our boat - until now.
This was the perfect opportunity in the heart of Mud Crab territory. Off we went in the dinghy to set the pot in a likely place. Then it was off to do a bit of trolling while we waited for the Mud crab to get in the pot. With Coral Trout heads as bait, how could he resist.
A while later, we returned to inspect the pot. Nothing!
We relocated it just around the corner, maybe it was too secluded where we had it and the crabs didn't even know about that little estuary.
So far, no fish and no crabs. We had curried vegies for dinner.
Ian wanted to check the crab pot before we went to bed. I was worried about him getting eaten by a croc, so I went with him, that way he had only a 50% chance if there was a croc about.
We pulled up the pot. Bingo! A beautiful fat mud crab.
Now a Mud Crab has powerful claws and can be the cause of lost fingers, so it took a bit of maneuvering to get him from the pot to a bucket. From there it was over to Winkali where Ian had to truss him up with string before putting him into the freezer which would put him to sleep before going into the pot. By now I was feeling sorry for the Mud Crab.
An hour later it was into the cooking pot. I looked sideways at the pot as its legs were waving about. Ian explained that it was only nerves left. The crab had been killed instantly with the boiling water.
The following day, we sat down to a fine lunch of Mud Crab.
We cracked open the huge claws and found . . . . . a small amount of meat in them.
Does anyone want to buy a used crab pot?
