Daniel Tillack, Editor of Modern Fishing magazine, explores the relationship between beer and fishing. 
There are a lot of ‘B' words in the fishing vernacular: barramundi, bass, bream, barracuda, billfish, bonefish, bait, boat, barnacle, beam, berth, bilge, bollard, bow, breakers, buoy, barometer and beer. Yes, beer. Whether it be sipping suds while staring at the surf or clasping a cold one while creeping past a crocodile, a beer has always been a favourite way to pass the time between bites.
The history of beer and fishing goes way back, further than the days of drunken sailors singing sea shanties about overboard shipmates and sexy mermaids. I'd wager that ‘fisherman' takes the mantle and moves prostitution to the second oldest profession in human history. Later on - once agriculture had been developed (some 5,000 years ago) - it didn't take too long for the job of ‘master brewer' to emerge. (Perhaps the Egyptians worked the barley after setting the nets for the day...) And so fishing and beer - both invented as a means of sustenance, yet evolved into a source of merriment - have stumbled through the ages arm-in-arm.
Beer is no longer just beer, and fishing is no longer just fishing. Every part of the globe has their own interpretation and styles of both, but no matter what your persuasion you'll be guaranteed that wherever you roam there will be some form or another to scratch your itch. Beer and fishing are two constants.
Australia is young when compared to the ages of beer or fishing. Yet the same way a young child can dance to The Beatles in 2008, Australia embraced beer and fishing at birth and they have become part of the rich tapestry that is Aussie culture. A bloke in Stubbies, thongs and a terry-towelling hat walking along a beach with a rod in one hand and a beer in the other, his Sheila alongside him, is a scene which would bring a joyous tear to the eye of Captain Cook - especially if the missus is holding a Vegemite sandwich.
Beer and fresh fish were valuable commodities in the days of the early settlers. Not only could you eat the fish and get pissed on the beer, you could use these items to barter with (or, more likely, for). In fact, some people today still hold great value in the exchange of beer for goods and services.
I recall a fishing trip with some mates on the Haughton River in North Queensland. We had set our crab pots early in the morning and embarked on a day's fishing. When we returned to collect them in the afternoon, expecting a rich bounty of delicious mud crabs, we were disheartened to find that every one of our pots had been robbed - baits, crabs and all. Sadly, this isn't uncommon and is usually an infuriating experience, but we couldn't do anything but laugh. The robber had been kind enough to leave a can of XXXX Gold in each crab pot he had stolen from. Hardly a fair trade for big mud crabs - at least give me full-strength - but amusing nonetheless...
Legalities aside, that story shows that the symbiosis of beer and fishing trips comes in many forms.
Some people don't understand it. I can remember some priceless looks from concerned rent-a-houseboat owners watching production lines haul slabs of beer onboard for weeklong fishing excursions. Such expressions are almost as funny as some of the arguments I've heard about with concerned wives ‘explaining' to their husbands why, in a three car convoy up Cape York, one car devoted entirely to the transport of beer is excessive. Beer o'clock can be earlier on some trips than others...
As long as moderation, safety and the law are kept in mind, beer is fine to use as an additional relaxant when we get away from it all with a fishing trip. There's a lot of fun to be had getting a group of mates together and heading to an exotic location with a hot sun, big fish and a charter guide to drive the boat. I've been on such trips with mixed groups and it has allowed me to observe (very scientifically, I assure you) something special.
For all that beer and fishing achieve, it is the social value that should not be underestimated. They are the great levellers. They are two things that combine the hearts and minds of the ‘everyman'. Rich or poor. If you're trying to find commonalities between demographic extremes, don't be surprised if the priest, car salesman, judge, bricky, tuckshop lady and sewage maintenance worker all love two things: beer and fishing. I could mention a third love, but we all know that one already.
The first man to watch a bird dive into the water and pull out a fish and then declare he would give it a go would not have had the capacity to understand what he was starting. Nor would the first exponent of brewing have known that this, the most ancient manufacturing art known to man, would stand the test of time. They were humble beginnings. The only guarantees for both these arts is that they will survive for as long as man walks the earth, because what better way is there to end a long day under a relentless sun than to kick back with a brew and enjoy a fresh fillet or two?
Beer battered fish
Serves 4
Ingredients
1½ cups self-raising flour, sifted
300ml ice-cold beer
4 x 200g fish fillets, skinned
Light olive or vegetable oil for deep-frying
Directions
1 Sift the flour into a bowl and add a pinch of salt. Make a well in the centre and pour in the beer. Stir the mix gradually to form a smooth batter.
2. Cut each fillet in half to make two thin fillets, making sure you remove all bones.
3. Pour the oil into a large, deep heavy-based wok or deep-fryer, enough to fill one-third of its height. Heat over medium-high heat until a piece of bread dropped in sizzles immediately.
4. Dip each fillet into the batter and then hold it above the bowl to allow any excess batter to drain away. Lower the fillets into the oil a couple at a time. Cook for four minutes, or until batter is golden brown.
5. Remove the fillets and place them on a wire rack to drain. Keep them warm in the oven (180° C) while cooking remaining fish.
6. Serve with chips, fresh salad, tartare sauce and lemon wedges. Season to taste.
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