Raymond Terrace is full of colourful characters, but none are quite as bright and bubbly as Gerald the Fish! This myrtle-and-cardinal cutie lights up Terrace Park, on the banks of the shimmering Hunter River.
Gerald is the fish de résistance of local sculptor Greg Salter, and serves as a savage criticism of over-fishing in the region. The aquatic dreamboat first appeared in the Nelson Bay Sculpture Festival in 2013, under his original name of Ode to the Old Fish.
Back then, Gerald gleamed with silver-and-rust hues and – get this – could actually spin around. With his plump underbelly and slightly perplexed expression, Gerald was a hit the locals.
After spending some time on the Nelson Bay foreshore, Port Stephens Council bought Gerald and, determined to transform Raymond Terrace into the next tourism hotspot, popped him in his current location.
But now he needed a new name. Something warmer, friendlier, codd-ier than Ode to the Old Fish.
A competition was held to give the green grouper a new moniker, with 12-year-old wunderkind Nic Bourke suggesting Gerald. Why Gerald, you ask? Well, because he lives right next to the Fitzgerald Bridge.
That’s o-fish-ially the cleverest name I’ve ever heard!
The Fishman Cometh
They say the road to hell is paved with cod intentions. Raymond Terrace never became the next Côte d’Azur, and Gerald the Fish was left to rot away like a forgotten fillet in the midday sun.
Greg painstakingly restored Gerald in 2024 but, sadly, the fish is looking a bit green around the gills again. When I took the Bardot family fvisited in early-2026, we were appalled to discover that that some bottom-feeder had scrawled a grotty message on poor ol’ Gerry’s eyeball.
Whilst the drivel doesn’t bear repeating, it was something about sucking on fish balls – and I’m not talking about the deep-fried southeast Asian delicacy.
I won’t stand for such brutality against Bigs but – after a stern warning from the police not to get involved – I decided to pay someone to do my dirty work for me. Enter Mexican pro-wrestling tough guy Fishman.
And so, one windswept Tuesday evening, Fishman met up with the graffitist behind the nearby public toilets. The pen-pushing pest may have been expecting a night debauchery with a Latino stud, but instead got turned into fish food, filling the bellies of bass and bream from Bar Beach to Buladelah.
Once more, the good folk of Raymond Terrace are safe from texta-wielding perverts. Graciás, Fishman!
When Gordon Met Gerald
Hey, Biggies – Gordon here. You remember me, I’m the pint-sized alien sidekick to the inimitable Bigs Bardot. The beating heart of Land of the Bigs, so I’ve been called.
Although you wouldn’t know it, seeing as the Bardots forgot to tell me that they were going to see Gerald. They know it’s always been my dream to see the glittering lights of Raymond Terrace!
Bigella was there. Peter Poppins was there. Even Fishman made it into the photos, and I’ve never even seen him before. Where were you during the Land of the Bigs team building weekend in Dapto, punk?
By the time I made it to The Terrace, the family had moved on. My encounter with Gerald was cordial and, at times, really quite illuminating, but there was something missing.
What’s the point of visiting a Big if you don’t have someone to share it with? That’s why we travel across the country, tracking down giant goannas and dogs and koalas – for the laughs and joy and camaraderie we experience along the way.
Anyway, Bigs, I’m not upset. Just disappointed.
