After the family home had been established in Katanning in 1939, the fishing emphasis shifted from the eastern areas, where the access was mostly on surveyed roads, to the south-eastern areas, where the bottom end was mostly through private property.
We were fortunate that the late Job Haddleton, well-known farmer and honorary Fisheries Inspector, introduced us to the farmers who owned the land and we were able to establish amicable relationships.
We were happy to pick up mail and transport goods from merchants and railheads, particularly the churns of cream that earned pin money for farmers' wives and daughters. There was no charge.
In return we often needed and received assistance such as having the truck towed across flooded rivers and creeks and use of telephones.
Farmers' local knowledge of tracks was of great assistance, particularly in the winter. This was a reciprocal co-operative relationship and was the basis of the lifestyle of people of those times. We made many friends
Areas fished ranged far and wide on a seasonal basis - Stokes Inlet, Hopetoun, Doubtful Island and Cape Riche have previously been mentioned. Other areas were Oldfield River, Gairdner River and estuary, Bremer River and estuary and Pallinup River and estuary. All these inland water systems had seasonally open and closed sandbars and carried large quantities of fish — sea mullet, black bream, yellow-eyed mullet, salmon trout and many varieties of sea fish. These fish were in high public demand.
When the bar broke there was an exodus of mature fish into the sea and stocks were renewed by mostly immature fish coming in.
Unfortunately fish stocks were often denuded by spontaneous mortality caused by lack of inland rain coupled with evaporation causing over-mineralization of the water. The natural food died and fish lost condition rapidly, became covered in sores and died in hundreds of tons. Thus bar breaching was critical.
Inland water fishing methods were set net, ringing and half-circle meshing and seining at the bar sections. The fish were 'farmed' by the use of large three and a half to four inch (90-100 mm) mesh, thus ensuring only mature fish were taken.
Catches were limited, where possible, to what could be sold in the country and the constant moving ensured that stocks were neither harassed or overfished. There were always plenty for all somewhere.
The Kalgoorlie run in 1935 was done with a Nash Six converted to a ute and pulling a trailer. The next vehicle was a second-hand 2.5 ton (2.5 t) 1934 Ford truck followed by four new Fords supplied by Katanning Stock & Trading Company between 1942 and 1954.
These trucks proved to be fast, tough and reliable. Three were eventually written off after crashing into trees on road verges. Two were rolled over on slippery and sandy roads.
To keep the vehicles going and provide for emergencies, a wide range of spares and equipment was carried. To cope with bog and running off roads and track we had assorted wooden blocks and two large Oregon hatch covers - kangaroo, bottle and hydraulic jacks - two shovels and axes, a mattock, sledge-hammer, crowbar, length of chain, wire rope, coil of wire and heavy-duty skid chains.
In addition there were two spare tyres and wheels, complete front and rear springs, a rear axle, an ignition coil, condenser, fuel pump and flexible fuel lines, spark plugs, high-tension leads, light globes, fuses, insulation tape and battery cables.
There were radiator hoses, radiator sealer, a bar of Velvet soap (for big repairs), fanbelts, syphon hose, soldering outfit and a full kit of tools, plus an auxiliary fuel tank, a water tank and waterbag, emergency 2 gallon (9 L) petrol tin and a gallon of oil. All this was necessary because the likelihood of receiving any assistance in the case of a breakdown was remote.
Most spares were needed and eventually used (except the axle). Some gear was loaned to other wayfarers in need, especially the 2 gallon emergency petrol tin.
While returning from the first trip to the Gairdner Inlet, the truck was rolled on a glassy wet clay road between Jerramungup and Ongerup. The ice box, full of fish, was not bolted down and landed upside-down in the middle of the road with the top opening lids underneath. The truck was on its side in the watertable, full of water.
Whilst the boys were busy using the jacks, blocks, planks, big mallee roots and rocks to raise one end of the box to get the lids off and the fish out, Father was displaying pure artistry with the kangaroo jack. The truck was back on its wheels in twenty minutes. The box was loaded, fish and gear replaced, a quick cuppa and we were off.
A hundred yards (90 m) further on, steam began pouring out of the front end. Off with the radiator and fan and out with the soldering gear.
We were mobile again after nearly five hours repairing the radiator in drizzling rain.
Another disaster was stripping a fibre timing wheel around halfway between Ravensthorpe and Stokes Inlet.
Father took off to Bill Dunne's farm about 10 miles (16 km) away on the Oldfield River. He was lucky to find some visiting relations about to return to Ravensthorpe. A ring to Eric Thomas at the Trading Company and the replacement fibre wheel arrived with the mailman from Newdegate.
Meanwhile Father had stayed at Lou Hambley's pub and met the local Roads Board Secretary/Engineer who just happened to need to inspect the road in the general direction of our truck.
Meanwhile the boys had done their bit by removing the fan, radiator, timing case cover, and the offending wheel. The new wheel was boiled in a tin of oil to expand it for the press-on fit and driven home by a bit of 'four by two' and a gympie hammer.
In a little over an hour the truck was running. The Roads Board Secretary, finding it hard to believe, asked Father if he ever messed up these wayside jobs. 'Often', he said, 'but not when they count this much'.
After four and a bit days we were on our way and in that time had not sighted another vehicle.
The sequel three days later was that our benefactor was the recipient of a 40 pound (18 kg) box of nice black bream. He said, 'There are too many', to which Father replied, 'Give them to your friends'.
On one trip we had a most unusual experience. Way behind time after dark, we were travelling between Lake King and Lake Grace.
Having just crossed part of a salt lake over a narrow causeway, we were slowly negotiating a pot-holed sandy finger of land that jutted out into the lake.
The headlights, tunnelled in between large salmon gums on either side of the track, picked up a huge dark shape with two blazing red eyes, closely followed by two others and three more much smaller apparitions.
We took violent evasive action and skidded to a halt in the watertable, shaken and incredulous to see this parade of elephants no less, miles from nowhere, unattended and padding down the middle of the road.
Clutching each other's tails in their trunks, they disappeared into the murk.
We thanked our lucky stars we hadn't met them on the causeway where we would have had the choice of meeting six elephants head on or going into 2 feet (60 cm) of salt water and black oozy mud.
Down the road about 40 miles (65 km) we met two circus attendants on horseback. Had we seen their elephants?
We certainly had.
The story was that elephants and non-caged animals walked between towns. A noisy truck had stampeded the horses which disappeared over the sandplain and they had left the elephants to move on while they rounded up the horses. All was well in the end though because the circus, plus elephants and horses, performed the next night in Ravensthorpe.
The floods of 1955 had overflowed the Dumbleyung Lake into the Blackwood River for the first time in the living memory of the white man. With the lake full of water and likely to stay that way, we were approached by "Choc' Sunter, spokesman for the Dumbleyung Roads Board, with a proposition to help introduce fish into the lake. We would.
A previous experience in stocking upriver pools elsewhere had indicated that the smallest fish had the best survival rate during the transition.
The Roads Board had obtained permission to remove fish from the Pallinup estuary. A party consisting of Choc Sunter, a Roads Board member with a ute and 100 gallon (450 L) tank, Herbie Green and Arthur Wallis similarly equipped, and the Heberles' truck with two tanks and a beach seine net set off for the Pallinup bar.
Black bream were considered the best bet. The fish were caught, transported, and over 600 lively little fish were released into the Coblinine River which flows into Dumbleyung Lake.
A check with a mesh net two years later caught seven fat bream in excellent condition. However some years later lack of rains caused the lake to dry up and the fish died.
By 1950 all the sons had married and left the industry. Les and Ron carried on through the 1950s, with Ron and family moving to Albany in 1957. In 1960 the factory was sold and the Les Heberles retired to Perth, thus terminating the country fish supply which had, with many ups and downs, endured for twenty-three years.
Les and Eva Heberle are now deceased, Eric and Doss live in Perth, as does Phyllis and husband Frank Norman.
Vi lives in Gnowangerup and Cyril, Peg and family remain in Katanning. Ron, Pauline and family live in Albany and maintain the fishing association, operating during the salmon season at Doubtful Island.
