Wading through knee high grass today, conscious of every step, thinking of snakes. The radio crackles to life "We have a hunt!"
At that moment 3 of the young Aboriginal guys working with us come bursting through the trees, yelling directions and instructions to each other. I can't see what it is they're chasing, but I can damn well hear it tearing through the long grass. I also damn well know what it is.
"It's a big one" one of the guys yells.
Yep it sure sounds like a big one and the bloody thing is coming straight at me. Now I have no issue with attempting to catch it, but I can't tell where it is and if it gets past me I'm gonna look like a stupid big city white boy.
Suddenly it bursts up through the grass and straight up a tree just in front of me. A very bad move for it, but a damn fine one for me. Within seconds it's all over and it's being dragged back to one of the vehicles. Should have stayed in the grass, nobody could see it and there it stood half a chance, with me it probably stood three quarters of a chance!
As usual it tasted good, but goanna isn't everyones cup of tea, until they actually taste it that is.


Tony G stands with the catch


Victor prepares it for lunch