We used to catch some nice King George Whiting back home in Sth Oz.
3 hooked on a line was common place.
Arno Bay, Tumby Bay, Port Lincoln and all of those joints on the west of Spencer Gulf were fcuking magic.
And the sheilas knew how to buck in the cot too when you were pissed after a good day out on the water.
Spearfishin' Crays and a cook up on the beach always won a heart.
Fcuk, I better stop now, starting to feel young again.