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Whatsapp Cocklespit in the middle of the Spencer Gulf seems an unlikely place to play a game of cricket.

Once every few years a very special game of cricket takes place right in the middle of South Australia's Spencer Gulf. When the conditions are right, Whyalla and Port Pirie play for pride on a tiny island that's underwater almost all the time. Ann Jones reports from fine leg.

Port Pirie and Whyalla face each other across the Spencer Gulf and share a similar mix of heavy industry, farming services and leisure opportunities. That doesn’t mean they’re friends, though. In fact, they share a rivalry as only regional Australian towns can: a mixture of ribbing, camaraderie, respect and genuine competition. The tension between the towns boils over once every six or seven years in a tradition that started 20 years ago: Cocklespit cricket.

The spit sits underwater in the middle of the Spencer Gulf and is exposed for just long enough to stage a cricket game for a few tides each year. Only a couple of those tides fall within the season when the winds might be favourable enough to play a game of tippity-cricket in the middle of a gulf, though. When the favourable winds and tides coincide with a weekend, two words enter the local vernacular: 'It’s on.'

Representatives from the towns' yacht clubs board their vessels and sail to battle, armed with snags, tomato sauce, bread, sun cream and chocolate biscuits with which to bribe the umpires.

Peter Newman, dressed in yellow, is the skipper of the Pacific Gull, and is ferrying cricketers out to the spit.

Aboard the Pacific Gull the crew discuss how to arrive at the spit alive, and how not to do their hammies once they're there and batting.

After some time under sail, we arrive at a patch of... water.

Lurking beneath the gulf's surface is Cocklespit, an immense bank of coarse sand, broken shells and shell grit. Many boats have run aground on the spit over the past 200 years.

At high tide it might be covered by six feet of water. 'It appears the pitch has been over-watered,' comments the skipper.

He refuses to drop his keys in to check for the size of cracks.

Whyalla Yacht Club's crack squad of cricketers arrives in a borrowed pilot boat, which would normally be used to guide large tankers into port. Today I can hear the sounds of festivities aboard as the cricketers go through warm-up stretches.

Lou Palumbo has been sailing for 57 years and will be part of the Royal Port Pirie Yacht Club's prime batting attack.

It was standing room only on the public transport on the way to the cricket ground.

As the water recedes the spit appears, and immediately preparation for the game begins.

What the Cocklespit cricket ground lacks in sophistication it makes up for with a dunny-side view of the southern Flinders Ranges.

Getting to the members' stand early always assures you of a good seat.

Under Cocklespit cricket rules, you can't lose your wicket until you've scored a run. It's unorthodox, but it enables Port Pirie to bat to 10 overs.

The spit is made out of sand, shell grit, cockleshells and dead coral.

Fielding at deep mid-wicket seems like a good idea, but don't dive for the ball—the shells are like razors.

There are various local rules, including six and out if you hit the water on the full (hard to do, depending on the tide).

With a considerably younger side, Whyalla are the victors this year.

The sail back to Port Pirie gives everyone a chance to ice sore muscles and contemplate could've beens and should've beens.

It doesn't look like much, but the cricketers play for possession of a Vegemite jar filled with cockleshells from the spit, as well as bragging rights into the foreseeable future.