The whole affair had the urgency of a Black Friday sale, but wetter. A hundred or so people lined up along the sand at Marmion Beach, the foamy edge of the Indian Ocean licking at their feet, each of them waiting for 7am to hit. When it did, they surged forward, plunging into the water, scrambling over the reef, reaching, grasping, prying.
Recreational abalone fishing in Western Australia happens in a tight, manic window: one hour per day, three or four days a year. It’s less a leisure activity than a collective, frantic dash against the clock. And on this particular morning, I joined the throng alongside WAGFG Chef of the Year, Paul Bentley, to see if we could wrestle a few from the sea before the siren called time.
There’s something undeniably medieval about it. To harvest abalone, you don’t need finesse. You need to be quick, because the shellfish, suctioned tight to the reef, are not interested in coming with you. With a blunt blade and a bit of force, you wedge, lever, and pop them free, depositing them in a net before they have a chance to react. All around, wetsuited bodies bob in the water, knives flashing under the surface, a communal hunt playing out in real-time.
By 8am, the reef at Marmion Beach had been just about picked clean, the tide reclaiming what was left behind. With our haul secured, we retreated to Casa’s kitchen, where Bentley set about turning them into something greater than the sum of their parts.
Image credit: Jessica Rigg
In their raw state, abalone are not what you’d call immediately appealing. The flesh is tough, almost rubbery, encased in a shell that looks like a relic from a shipwreck. But treated properly—tenderised or sliced thin, shown a little heat or acid—they become something else entirely.
Bentley prepared two dishes. First, a ceviche: the abalone thinly sliced, brightened with aguachile, the punchy Mexican sauce of lime, chilli, and coriander, then tossed with finely diced cucumber, tomato, and pickled onion. The acid did its work, firming up the meat while keeping it delicate, its natural brininess sharpened rather than overshadowed. Then, skewers—abalone interspersed with thick-cut speck, brushed with a glaze of adobo chillies, palm sugar, and soy sauce, then grilled until the fat sizzled and the edges crisped. Salt, smoke, chew—each bite proof that some things are worth the effort.
But for now, the season isn’t over just yet. This Saturday, February 15, will be the last day of the abalone fishing season before the window slams shut until December 2025.
Want more seafood? Read the story behind one of WA’s most trusted seafood suppliers, Endeavour Foods.
