Before the sun rose, we punted the boat across the shallows to the island, passing columns of black swans ...
Geordie came out of the rivermouth and motored slowly across the inlet.
That's our net. I can see its meandering under the murky waters. Fishing pelicans give its position away.
Later, as the water gets too deep for them to duck down to the net, ripping out mullet and whiting or just stripping the scales clean off the fish, they hang around the boat, waiting for trumpeters.