There were 2 things that brought me to Tin Can Bay: the resident dolphin population (and the hope of getting a few photos of the rare Indo-Pacific Humpback dolphin that are found here) as well as the Bream and Whiting, both of which are usually on the chomp this time of year. Of course as soon as I arrived rain started belting down and my hopes of having any level of success with either were pretty much dashed. It rained pretty hard over the course of two days and in the process very nearly flooded me out of my camp. Fortuntately the rain was held at bay today and the winds died down a bit as well. The very moment that a sliver of sunlight broke through the thick layer of overhanging clouds I packed the car and took off to Snapper Creek hoping to find some Bream.
Acting on some first hand information from the friendly proprietors of the Tin Can Bay Motel (where I decided to stay for a night due to the very reasonable prices), my target destination was right out the front of the local commercial fishing jetty. Positioned no more than 200 meters from the handy boat ramp next to the coast guard it was probably the easiest paddle I've had since embarking on the Yakabout journey. The inside word was that large Bream had come in to feed while the commercial boat was dumping crushed mud crab shells into the drink.
Until I heard that I probably wouldn't have believed that fish would be anywhere in sight because due to the heavy rains, the water was as discoloured as it gets. When I arrived, however, there was indeed a couple of guys fishing the jetty so my spirits lifted immediately. I just hoped that by then the fish hadn't already stuffed themselves stupid. Sadly, apparently they had. Only 15 minutes after I turned up the other guys left, although I did observe them bring one Bream (of about 500 grams) to land.
"It's gone quiet mate," one of them called out to me as he packed his gear, then adding, "you should have been here 2 hours ago".
Indeed.
This crab wasn't hiding well enough - but I let him live anyway
I persisted though, going so far as to fish with bait for only the second time since hitting the road. There was no need to buy any of course - there was plenty of tasty looking (to fish) morsels floating about the surface, which is exactly what the other guys had been fishing with. Casting them out with an unweighted line (with flurocarbon trace) I did get a couple of touches, but nothing commited. I considered plucking this little crab from his perch to use as a live bait instead, but figured there was every chance that would fail as well, so I let him live instead.
It was at this point I became desperately creative, deciding to hitch a bait-rigged rod to one of the jetty beams where I could see it, and then tying a hardbody lure to my other rod. The plan was to troll back and forth along side the jetty with my eyes on the other rod with plans to race over to it in case of a hook up. I only tried this strategy for 15 minutes before getting nervous about what might happen if a really big fish decided to take it, so I changed tact. My anticipation had died down now, but the winds were starting to pick up, with dark clouds moving in and threatening rain. With every chance of the sky falling down on me I decided to troll my way to the opposite side of the river to have a quick look and then make my way back. Upon reaching the opposite side of the river my attention was drawn to a large sign, which read: Military Range Boundary Live Firing Area. Do Not Enter. No Tresspass. Live Bombs. Laser Hazard.
Sheeeiiit!
I'd been warned about this by a good friend of mine (and regular Yakabout reader, Darrin Davis) who serves with the military and is familiar with the area. This Wide Bay Training Area (WBTA in mil-speak) is a clear no-go zone and this photo was taken from about as close as I was willing to get. According to Darrin, trace rounds can fall where I was positioned, so I didn't hang around for long, as you can imagine. I had to get close enough for a photo opportunity first though.
Trolling back to the boat ramp was inadvertantly uneventful, so the day ended fishless yet again. Not that I was at all surprised, but at least I was able to get out onto the water again and thats what a relief at least. A part of me is tempted to hang around and wait for the water to clear but I fell for that trick in Noosa and looking at the geography of Tin Can Bay, figured that it'd take days, if not weeks for that to happen. Foiled by weather again I've instead resolved to return another day some other time.
Trip Reports 
