3 nights at Pritchards

~F i s h i n g a t P r i t c h a r d s~


Our little Zodiac is so easy!


We find the perfect spot to stop for lunch. This beautiful tree arches over the water and sparkles from the reflections of ripples on the water. Just tie your boat to a branch and you're set!


Fishing like this can be tough to get used to

Fritatta and beer for lunch goes down a treat.

And we caught ZERO fish! (but gee, the fishing was fun!)

~F l o r a & F a u n a ~

These little guys were extremely tame and will take bread from your hand

Little females like this one here perched on our car, and even on the skinny windowskills and door of the caravan!

This little fellow can be spotted with a paintbrush in his hand as he studies his surrounds. Very tame, he can be easily coaxed out with ginger beer or a medium-cooked steak.

~T h e C a m p f i r e ~

Okay, so the fishing isn't great, even though the river is utterly beautiful. But camping here is lovely. The aroma of coal and cast iron over campfires conjures images of my youth; running around on motorbikes and riding horses, camping with friends and family, playing cards, Gavin and I running around barefoot without a worry in the world.....

Pritchards is like that faraway place of my past. There are only 20 sites but they are large; and all of the campers are quiet, respectful of others' space, and everyone quietly appreciates the lack of amenities, mobile phones, shopping, and the abundance of birds, kangaroos, possums and the inpenetrable bush scrub.

The fishing is not normally so bad, they say; the influx of rain has caused an abundance of fresh water and minerals to run into the river which has fed the fish well, and so the only bait the fish are interested in is a little steak on a tiny hook. Yes, they certainly enjoy the bait, but these little buggers are experienced at sucking bait from a hook and are impossible to snare. Anyway.

A campfire at night, with guitars and whisky in tow, made up for the shortcomings of a fishless dinner and we enjoyed strumming chords and singing until all other campers had retired for the evening, leaving us in the widlerness to enjoy a blanket of stars while we pondered a good day, a great day, and fell into bed.