Turvally

 Raised in the salty churn of Moreton Bay, Turvally spent his youth harassing Tuna, Mackerel, and anyone else who dared share his zip code.

 Recently relocated to Bellingen to find himself, but mostly just finds things to kill in the dark.

 Rookie in 2026. No official MPFC record, but has a standing ban from three coastal bait shops and a "Do Not Resuscitate" order from the Mahbra Faction.

Kombucha spiked with Methylated Spirits.

Turvally enters the MPFC with a reputation that precedes him—mostly via police radio. A product of the Moreton Bay "if it moves, gaff it" school of thought, he has spent years chasing high-speed pelagics and even higher-speed legal injunctions. He’s the kind of bloke who would cast into a swimming pool if he thought there was a Tailor in the filter.

His recent move to Bellingen has seen him trade the open ocean for the murky, secretive world of Jew hunting. Under the questionable mentorship of the infamous Haddock Hitler, Turvally has developed an obsessive, almost fanatical devotion to stalking the Silver Ghost. We’re told he spends his nights standing waist-deep in the river, whispering "Who's a good boy?" to a live mullet while wearing a ghillie suit made of discarded line.

As a spearhead for the Mahbra faction, he brings a level of intensity that the MPFC hasn't seen since the Great Rum Shortage of '04. Whether he's actually a "Jew-hunter" or just a man who enjoys sitting in the dark, cold, and wet while talking to himself remains to be seen.

Being a Rookie, he is expected to perform all menial tasks with a smile, though we suspect he’ll just try to Tuna-slap anyone who asks for a fresh beer. Watch your fingers, watch your gear, and for god's sake, don't mention the 'Bay.

Good luck, Turvally. Try not to gaff yourself.