The Bungarra and The Gilgie

I ran as fast as I could. Ashley was chasing me with a gilgie and I wasn't going to let it nip me. (Noongar Aborigine word for fresh water crayfish).

When we felt like a feed of gilgies, we would head down to the dam. It was a favourite past time.

Now there is a method to this, so pay attention.

Take a left over piece of meat or meat scrap and then using a long length of baling twine, attach the meat to one end.

Then toss that into the dam, securing the another end by tying it onto a small stone.

Wait say, five minutes.
Pull the baling twine in slowly, just enough so that you can see the gilgies antennae poking out of the water.

Using a scoop net, home made of course. Scoop in behind the meat and bring the net up on the dam bank. Voila dinner.

The female gilgies are always thrown back. You can tell which one's they are because she will have eggs under her tail.

Now one day while I was tying the meat onto the baling twine. I was rudely interrupted.

A huge Bungarra (silent g),(Also known as a Sand goanna or Lace monitor) leisurely meandered over the dam bank.
He took long forceful strides, his sharp claws dug in and left gouges in the hard dam wall. His keen sense of smell had lured him out. A relentless forager, I had a fight on my hands.
He sauntered in my direction. Oh shit. He didn't see me as his prey, but as his rival.


The bungarra grabbed a piece of meat in his mouth and promptly turned and strutted off. I grabbed the other end of the baling twine and so began a game of tug o war. Oh it was all fun and games until...the bungarra let go and stood up on his hind legs and made a run at me.


Normally if a bungarra runs at you, you lay down. In their defence to get away, a bungarra will climb something tall. Tree, human all the same. So if you see a bungarra charging in your direction drop flat and lay down.


However, if the object of the bungarra standing up on his hind legs to run at you is food orientated...get the hell out of there. Bungarra's are also known by the name racehorse goanna, need I say more.


In my hasty retreat, I slipped on the gravel and grazed my knees. The commotion stopped the bungarra dead in his tracks and content that he had injured his rival, he again turned and strutted off. Not forgetting to grab the piece of meat he had so gallantly fought for.


The things we go through for a tasty feed of gilgies.



Read More: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/06/getting-paid-to-go-slow.html


More Info:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sand_goanna
http://www.fish.wa.gov.au/docs/pub/IdCrayfish/IdCrayfishPage03.php?0304