AT 84, Victoria Point’s Des Stevens still finds peace at the water’s edge – rod in hand, eyes on the tide, and memories stretching back decades across Moreton Bay.
Raised in a time when families lived largely off the land and sea, Mr Stevens said fishing was once part of everyday life.
“It was a different time. In this modern world, you go to the supermarket for everything,” he said.
Despite the changes, the simple joy of fishing has never left him.
“I like to go and throw out a line,” he said.
“It’s nice to sit beside the water and feel the water and sand around your feet.
“It helps to relax a bit.
“I used to fish with (the late) Fausto Santagiuliana (former Mayor’s brother) but when you get to 84, all your friends go. It’s a sad thing.”
While he once fished from a series of boats, these days Mr Stevens prefers the simplicity of casting a line from local beaches and boat ramps.
“You can’t beat the waters of Moreton Bay,” he said.
“Sometimes you do okay and at other times, you don’t.
“It depends on the fish, the bait, the weather conditions and the location.”
He believes fish stocks are improving after tougher years in the bay.
“It was the trawlers. Since we kicked them out, things have improved,” he said.
Mr Stevens’ love of fishing began in childhood, heading out in a bondwood dinghy with his grandfather off Victoria Point.
“We’d go out 100 metres and would pick up a feed of whiting in half an hour,” he said.
“And then on a moonlight night we’d get a feed of bream off Wilson’s Esplanade.”
Over the years, favourite spots have included the south-east corner of Coochiemudlo Island for squire and Jumpin’ Pin for bream – back when he owned a 17-foot Quintrex aluminium boat.
Fishing has also delivered its fair share of unforgettable moments.
He recalls losing a rod overboard near Pat’s Point, Macleay Island – only to hook it again using another line.
“I started throwing out my other line and ultimately, I hooked it all back again,” he said.
“The line was racing off the reel, but there was no fish on the end of the line.”
A similar incident unfolded just last year at Victoria Point.
“I had just made my first cast and settled the rod into the holder and was baiting up a second line when I had one of the fastest and most ferocious bites I had ever experienced,” he said.
“Before I could grab the rod, which was being bent over to the extreme, it was pulled out of the holder and away it went into the dark.”
Undeterred, Mr Stevens returned the next morning.
“The next morning following the morning high tide, I returned, waited for the tide to recede and I eventually located the rod about 25 metres from the shoreline, lodged up against a small rock,” he said.
“Talk about second time, lucky.”
These days, he fishes more selectively.
“These days I keep the fish in a bucket of water,” he said. “If I only catch one or two, it’s not worth the heat of the frying pan to bring them home, so I throw them back.
“But if I get three or four, I keep them.”
Mr Stevens grew up in Thornlands, the son of a small crop farmer, attending Thornlands State School before working on the family farm during his high school years.
His family had earlier run a dairy farm at Boonah.
More than seven decades on, the routine may have changed – but the pull of the water remains as strong as ever.
