Andy Total Carnage's latest Northern Territory mission opens the way every barra angler dreams: vibes hitting water, fish hitting vibes, repeat.
"Three cast, three hits," Andy announces, the camera barely keeping up as rats start coming over the side of the boat. By the time his son Jackson, mate Greg and crewman Carney get sorted around him, the group is on a double, then a triple. "Well done. Greg's landed his. I've got mine. Jackson's got his. I think Carney got the biggest," Andy laughs.
The morning's standout fish ends up being Andy's: a fresh-run barramundi pulled out of a tight Top End creek system on a small vibe. Quick measurement, quick photo, quick release. "PB 64. Nice little bar of mundy," he says, hoisting a bronze-flanked fish that he reckons will turn fully silver once it pushes back into the salt. The leader gets touched, the protocol is met, and the barra slides back. "It doesn't count if you don't touch the leader. It was a 56, too," he reminds the crew on the next release.
The trip's hazards arrive on the afternoon tide. A barramundi spat earlier in the session reappears in the mouth of a large saltwater crocodile that has been cruising the bend. Then it happens to a fresh hookup. The croc strips a Paroshad-style swimbait off a fish mid-fight and Andy can hear the lure giving up its life one crunch at a time.
"Tell you what, 50 bucks at FG. I heard him crunch that lure a couple times. I had a feeling it was probably broken by now," he says, watching the croc work the bait in its jaws. The reptile is already a known regular on this stretch. "He thinks we are mate," Andy explains. "He's your pet crocodile. He didn't eat much of that barra. You can see that lure sticking out of him."
When the tide finally turns, the bite turns with it. "Flying barramundi," Andy calls as fish start nailing vibes mid-water on the run-out. Sunset delivers another quality fish off a flooded floodplain feeder. "Nice little bar straight off the flood planes by the looks of it," he says, holding the lure that did the damage — a small raptor-style vibe. "Nearly got a sunset barramundi."
The overnight setup is a window into how the Top End remote crew actually live on the water. Anchor down, fuminator coils running, a small Milwaukee work light flipped to yellow to keep insects off the deck, and a Canadian-made marine fan running off a 200 amp-hour Fusion Korr lithium. "Doesn't use much at all. Puts out five times as much air as a Ryobi," Andy says of the fan, drawing under one amp on high.
The risks of camping on a 4 m bow ramp in the middle of a Top End river are spelled out clearly. "There is that big crocodile around here too, remember. You just got to be a bit careful. He's not real worried about boats. He sees boats as his friend. But we're hopefully out in the current here when it starts dropping, so it's a bit better."
By 9 p.m., the wind has dropped, the fan is down low and the bushman's is back on. "How good is that," Andy says into the dark. The next morning will bring another tide, more vibes, and — if the croc shows up again — another reminder that in the NT, you never really fish alone.