Scratching the Surface

Exmouth occupies a unique position in Australian fly fishing. With Ningaloo Reef and the Indian Ocean to the west and the sheltered waters of Exmouth Gulf to the east, it offers an extraordinary variety of flats fishing within a relatively small area. Anglers can target permit, blue bastards, blackspot tuskfish, GTs, golden trevally and queenfish on the same trip.

Red desert ranges meet brilliant turquoise water, while tidal flats, reef systems and white-sand beaches stretch for kilometres in every direction. But what really makes Exmouth special is its versatility. Even when conditions deteriorate, there is almost always another option—protected gulf flats, reef edges, turtle grass beds, and expansive sand flats are all within easy reach.

Saltwater fly fishing can be challenging. These environments are wild and exposed, and the fish are typically bigger and feistier. There are winds, tides, heavier gear and heavier flies to contend with. The concept of throwing feathers, fur and foam tied to a hook on a fly rod and expecting a result is far-fetched when you stop and think about it—but it works.

Weather is a big factor in saltwater fly fishing success but knowing what to do when less-than-favourable conditions are encountered can be even more important.

I first visited Exmouth in 2015, then returned in 2024 to fish with guide and good mate Brody Sutton. A tropical low flooded the town, and a rapidly falling barometer kept the flats unusually quiet for much of the week. We still caught fish, but I left convinced I’d only scratched the surface of what Exmouth could offer.

Brody grew up in Exmouth, and it’s easy to see how much he loves the place. He’s young and passionate, and he wants to see the area thrive. Chris Heath and I made plans to join Brody for a week of fishing.

The forecast for the week wasn’t perfect. Strong winds were predicted, but on the bright side, it looked like we would get ideal sunlight most days. Having only fished Exmouth by boat on previous trips, I was soon to discover how much opportunity existed for quality wade fishing, even during challenging conditions.

Ningaloo Beginnings

We spent the first afternoon of the trip wading the Ningaloo side. I was feeling run-down from recent travels, and it was a good way to ease into the trip. A close call on a big GT and enough action to loosen the casting arm made for an ideal introduction to the week.

After an early night, we were ready for the first full day. We stocked the Yeti for a full day on the Ningaloo side. I blew two good shots at GTs early.

‘That’s annoying,’ I thought to myself out loud.

Ningaloo has a way of slowing everything down. Looking away from the water to reset for a moment reveals endless stretches of untouched coastline, crystal-clear shallows and waves breaking over the outer reef. The water shifts through countless shades of blue as the light changes throughout the day.

A small Blochii permit finally put me on the board. Having landed my first permit in these same waters eleven years earlier, it was satisfying to reconnect with that memory.

We continued exploring, and while the permit were unwilling, the golden trevally were—not an unfamiliar story.

Windy Days in the Gulf

Exmouth Gulf is rich with life, with mile after mile of productive flats. Stingrays glide across the shallows, turtles surface unexpectedly, and schools of baitfish scatter as predators charge through the system. You constantly feel like the next fish could be something special.

The wind was unrelenting, but Brody was adamant that the best approach was to use the boat to access the flats, then wade from there.

We slipped over a section of reef and anchored the boat, allowing us to hop out and begin wading. Coming from northern fisheries, where crocodiles are always part of the equation, wading took some getting used to.

I hadn’t considered Exmouth a prime blue bastard fishery until Chris hooked one almost immediately. It came unstuck after a powerful first run. Then another did exactly the same.

We spotted a huge fish tailing in the distance as Chris quietly waded into position. A perfect cast, and the fish immediately turned and tailed on the fly.

‘I’m on!’ Chris yelled.

The fish went hard, but eventually he brought it in—it was enormous, one of the biggest we had seen.

Soon after, I hooked one. The Alphlexo Crab I was throwing was stripped bare before eventually popping free from the fish’s mouth.

‘Damn, that’s a bummer. That was another nice fish.’

The tide was now pushing in, and after several more shots, I finally came tight on a beautiful fish. I was very happy.

Drinks at Mantarays that evening tasted even better knowing the day’s best fishing had come from conditions many anglers would have written off.

Wading For Permit

Greeted by even more wind the next day, we launched into Exmouth Gulf and headed to the flats. It was howling. A northerly wind, generally one of the less desirable directions in Exmouth, had dirtied the area we hoped to fish. Fortunately, Brody always seemed to have a plan B.

We pulled the boat in as shallow as possible, threw on wading boots, and started walking. One thing that stood out throughout the week was just how much fishable water existed for anglers willing to get out and walk. Vast expanses of productive habitat stretched in every direction.

I stuck with the #1/0 white Alphlexo and stalked a large sandy expanse between two sections of reef and weed. I was expecting to see a bastard or tuskie, but to my surprise, a small permit appeared across the sand. I thought my presentation was good. It followed my crab until the leader was in the rod tip before spooking.

I stood still and watched the sandy gap once more. A short while later, another permit appeared; it was considerably larger.

It didn’t see my first attempt. I led the next cast slightly farther ahead allowing the crab more time to sink. The fish continued in the fly’s direction and, with the first strip, immediately lit up and ate.

‘Permit! Permit!’ I began yelling at Brody and Chris.

It’s moments like these that explain Exmouth’s reputation among Australian flats anglers. Permit remain one of sight fishing’s ultimate challenges, yet here they are a realistic possibility on any given day—not guaranteed, but genuinely attainable.

There’s something especially beautiful about a Blochii, and this fish was no exception. The burnt-orange sickle fins and polished silver flanks make every encounter worthwhile, whether the fish ends up in hand or not.

The wind continued to build, and we were slightly concerned about beach conditions for retrieving the boat later that afternoon, so we called the day early and made our way back.

Big Tuskies

Of all Exmouth’s flats species, blackspot tuskfish, or ‘tuskie’, may be the most heartbreaking (and line-breaking). They’re full of colour and even more power. Watching these fish light up over a flat is unforgettable, but it’s their explosive speed and strength that catch even experienced fly anglers by surprise.

A 50cm tuskie is a nice fish on fly. A 60cm fish becomes increasingly difficult to stop. Anything larger than that, and a lot of luck needs to go your way.

We had seen some large tuskies through the week, and Chris was eager to settle a long-running score with a species that had caused him plenty of heartbreak over the years. After a few false starts, with quality fish finding reef before we could stop them, we remained hopeful that one fish might finally make a mistake and head for open water.

Brody spotted a big one. Actually, it was enormous. Glowing blue and turquoise in the distance, it was impossible to miss. Tuskies generally need slightly more lead than permit or blue bastards. They don’t appreciate a fly landing too close and possess incredible eyesight.

Chris led the fish beautifully. The moment the fly moved, it was obvious the fish was interested. One of Brody’s big brown tuskie crabs proved irresistible, and the ultimate tug-of-war began.

The fish initially ran away from the reef, a welcome start. It briefly took shelter in a large clump of weed, allowing Chris to recover valuable line from the first blistering run. I don’t often see Chris show much emotion during a normal fishing day. This was different. Brody finally slipped the net under the fish—seventy-one centimetres of colourful tuskie in hand. We were all thrilled to see that fish landed.

A few queenfish and golden trevally followed. I managed to lose a tuskie of my own. Yet despite the relentless wind, it had been a fantastic week.

Truthfully, a good trip is often made up of one or two special fish each day. Anything more is exceptional; anything less provides motivation for tomorrow. After all, we were chasing some of Australia’s most sought-after flats species – permit, blue bastards, tuskies and GTs.

What stood out most from the week wasn’t simply the fish we landed but the fishery itself. Despite difficult conditions, we never ran out of places to explore or opportunities to pursue. Every day seemed to reveal another flat, another bay or another stretch of coastline worth walking.

That’s probably the greatest compliment I can pay Exmouth. Just when you think you’ve begun to understand Exmouth, another flat or another bay reminds you how much remains unexplored.