The continental shelf wanders by just a couple of kilometres off the eastern side of the Cape, so you don't have to bounce around for hours before you actually get to do any fishing. Better still, it's only 25 minutes to get back again, less chance of being caught by a sudden change of weather, and a fuel bill that won't give you a heart attack. The marlin haven't been caught in the size and numbers they have off the eastern coast, but then, by comparison, there aren't exactly thousands of boats trying to catch them, either. But unless you have a particularly masochistic streak and just love trolling for hours in a small boat while having your vital organs rearranged by each successive thump into the chop, you don't drive all that way just for marlin. There are plenty of other fish in this part of the world, a lot less water between them, and more untouched fishing grounds than you could wave an Ugly Stik at.
Adventure Begins Twelve men, five boats, and nine days away from home.
Our trip had been planned for six months. If anything, we were over-prepared. Hell, between us we had 95 rods and reels. You take your chances with the weather, even as far north as North West Cape. Annoyingly, the Cape forms the dividing point between two weather 'regions' arbitrarily decided by the Bureau of Meteorology.