Dunk Island off Mission Beach

(Above: View to the mainland from Dunk Island)

The night before our excursion to Dunk Island we met Ian who suggested we go fishing on the island the next day. The weather forecast was looking good so we decided to go ahead and book the ferry. Our fishing equipment was rather primitive and consisted of a couple of reels, some line and a hook. We set off nonetheless, hoping we could get some form of bait when we got there.

When we arrived Kat went off to explore whilst myself, Ian and his friend.. who I can't remember the name of, set off on our search. There wasn't much in the way of bait, we even tried hacking off some mussels from the under the jetty, catching small minoes with our bare hands, even tried cutting the ear off a small child but to no avail. There was however a bar which was serving very cold and tasty beers. 

Eventually we spotted an All You Can Eat buffet in one of the hotels and decided our best bet was to buy one and then take a little extra squid and salmon to use to lure our fishies in with. Our plan was going very smoothly until we reached our designated fishing spot, which was over to the right of the beach across some jagged rocks and around some bushes (No warning bells were ringing so far). I had however by this point already managed to loose one of my flip flops somewhere between the jetty and the fishing spot.

By this time it was getting on a bit, so without further a do, balancing precariously on a rock covered in sharp broken mussel shells, I cast my line out into the water with great gusto.

....which in turn caused me to loose my balance completely and fall off the rock, onto another and into the water. "Ha ha ha" I joked, until I got up and realised there seemed to be quite a substantial amount of blood in the water and subsequently all over me. And, judging by the looks of terror on my companions faces, came to the conclusion it was infact coming out of me....great.

Turns out those Broken Mussel shells really are quite sharp, and I had just involuntarily stabbed myself into some and now my hand had a enormous canyon of doom in it and my foot a hole. Luckily I had some dry tissues so we used them and some fishing line to create a makeshift bandage and off I went to first Aid. :(

We later found out that our fishing spot had in fact been aptly named "Corner of death" by the aborigines who used to occupy the island long ago because of the sharp rocks and dangerous location. Thanks for the warning folk.

Fishing trip over, and not a friggin fish in sight. I did however find my other flip flop.

Thank God for that.