I grew up on the river flats around Wangaratta in Victoria, where I fished almost daily. It was a stark contrast when I moved to Alice Springs in 1990, at 21. There’s not a lot of fishing here, so any opportunity I get to fish, I grab it. I keep a fishing rod in my Darwin office for such occasions.

I’ve marshalled at the Barra Classic on the Daly River for the last nine years. I’ve had many crocodile encounters over the years, but none as close as on Sunday 9 October 2022.

It was National Gone Fishing Day, and I had a free day before parliamentary sittings in Darwin. I grabbed the rod and headed to a secret freshwater billabong, 120km away, arriving around 12.30pm. Gentleman’s hours.

‘It was a stalemate. I was calling it names, banging my rod, and throwing pieces of tree bark at it.’ Photograph: Bill Yan

I usually fish from a boat with mates here. There’s also a lot of other wildlife in the area – wallabies, buffalo, wild pigs and cattle everywhere. We’ve encountered a 5-metre saltwater male croc at the far end of the 400-metre billabong, where it’s quite overgrown. He’s nicknamed Fat Arse.

Today I was alone and knew I’d be able to catch and release a few barramundi or saratoga from the nearby front bank, which is reasonably open scrub.

I’ve never been here this late in the year. Being the end of the Dry, the water’s edge was shallow; around 20cm deep and about 5 metres from the bank. It was clear, making it much easier to spot any crocodiles.

I was following a game trail through the bush, towards the billabong. Where it narrowed, with low scrubby bushes on my left and a considerable paperbark tree on my right, a massive crocodile’s belly slide [marking] crossed the path. Upon closer inspection, I noticed animal tracks over the top, and figured the slide was old.

I took one step over the slide, and a loud noise erupted. I knew instantly what it was. Without a second thought, I jumped up the paperbark tree. At least I was off the ground. Then, I spied this rounded snout and piercing eyes glaring at me from under the bushes opposite. I began videoing it with my phone.

I was between her – in hindsight, it was nesting season – and the billabong. It was a stalemate. I was calling it names, banging my rod, and throwing pieces of tree bark at it for at least five minutes before the three-and-a-half metre croc finally bolted towards the billabong with me hanging in and filming it.

But I was here for National Gone Fishing Day and wanted to catch at least one fish.

I moved further along and caught a few fish before a young freshwater croc scared the hell out of me. It exploded out of the water at 100mph as I reeled in my catch.

Finally, it also backed off, as I was probably slightly bigger. I rescued my fish and let it go 30 metres up the billabong, so the croc didn’t get a cheap feed.

After a couple of hours, I headed back to the car, the long way.

Safely back in town, I shared the video of the croc that got away for a bit of a laugh.

But in all seriousness, for anyone venturing outdoors across the Top End of Australia (Queensland, Northern Territory and Western Australia), you’ve got to be extra careful around any waterways and the banks. Not just because of crocs but also other wildlife. Crocodile Dundee is a fanciful movie. A buffalo won’t lie down when you wave your hand.

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