From My Cyberjournal 53January 2005

The secret to happy fishing on Fraser Island is the beach worm. The natural food of the fish in the very waters you fish in, always make the best bait. Fraser Island's surf-lapped, seemingly endless stretch of beach, teems with pipi shells and worms. Pipi shells are easy to spot as small mounds, like flattened tennis balls on the wet sand, and all you have to do is dig your fingers, very quickly, a few inches down. The worms require more sophisticated skill.

These worms make their homes on the watery beach just where the last fingers of a wave caresses the wet sand. Only it's pin head peeps out, nervously scouring the sand where the spent wave vents it's last sigh over it. You need good sharp eyes to spot it as it exposes itself in the swirling waters for just an instant.

There is an art to beach worming. First, you sweep the shallow waters with the carcass of a very dead fish tied to a string or bagged in an old nylon stocking. Being scavengers, the beach worms are drawn to the scent of rotting flesh. As soon as you spot a worm, you stoop down and hold a shelled pipi under its nose to induce it to move between your thumb and forefinger. You have to acquire the knack of gently, but swiftly, pinching the worm between thumb and forefinger while it is feasting on the pipi; and then pulling it upwards and out in one motion. Hesitate, and the worm's meters-long body buried deep in the wet sand instinctively digs in, leaving you with just it's head and a few inches of worm. It'll grow another soon enough.

Believe me, it's not easy. The worm withdraws it's head into the sand, lightning quick. The water is in constant motion while you are executing this entire maneuver in an awkward squatting or stooping position. I can't do it. My 72-year old eyes can barely see the worm's moving head in the mix of wave and sand. My clumsy fingers signal the worm before I can pinch it. I can tell you from experience that God did not intend septuagenarians to be stooping down or squatting in swirling waters.

But it comes easy to the young. They have great fun. Since beach worming is an art that my two young grandsons have perfected, I am content to cheer them on, and extract the ancient tribal elder's share from the young hunters. We came to this understanding after they rejected my offer to pay them for the worms which I premised on the condition that they would in turn pay me for the fish I would catch for our meals. If you can't be agile, be cunning.