Render
08-08-2003, 08:45 AM
Well it goes like this...
Last night, at about 10.30, having watched that thumbs-up perve fest they laughingly call Mile High, I got the urge ;)
So I grabbed me rod and off I went ;D.
Me missus is understanding that way, bless her little cotton socks. Never an objection if I decide to feed bait to the fishes, whatever ungodly hour it may be. She even encourages me to go for a fish at times with soft and tender phrases like "will you f&@k off out from under my f@#$!*g feet before I get a rusty chainsaw and dismember you for f*&%#@g berley!"
Words of leurve, eh? Such an angel, my sweet Aussie treasure is. I carry a photo of her with which to stun large sharks.
Anway, down I head to one of me usual haunts on the banks of the Tweed River (silent 'T') and set up. Hoik in the berley, hoik in the bait. Ten minutes pass and not even a picker nibble, which is unusual. I passed time admiring the semi-moonlit vista, a wonderland of mysterious shadows and half-heard whispers of the night. The water was a sheet of glass and it brought memories of my youth... the crisp winter mornings ice-skating on the bathtub before father came in with his pickaxe to break the surface for me morning scrub. Memories of wandering the 25 miles across the fields each-way to school, all uphill, jumping from cow-pat to cowpat to keep me feet warm, as we couldn't afford shoes. Me father would paint me feet black for Sunday church. Ahhh, happier times.
So, back to the present and I'm sat there impersonating a remarkably handsome garden gnome on the jetty by Dry Dock bridge. No bites yet. Nothing too unusual per se, ho-hum. I try a few different directions and a few different baits. Absolutely nothing fishy-wise, although I did notice a beautiful blue phosphorescence to the surface of the water. Sort of a microscopic son et lumiere, but flat. And quiet.
Still no bites, nibbles and strangely now - no signs of fishies whatosever. If you sit still by a bank long enough, you hear splashes, see ripples, etc... you lot know what I speak of. There was none of that. So, I shone me torch into the depths. Now, this particular spot on the river always has swarms of fish life around it. Big shoals of fry, small picker bream, the odd large fish patrolling the pylons of the jetty. Not tonight. There was nothing at all. I walked up and down a bit, checking. I even got the million candle-power spotlight out of the car and used that. With that thing in me hand, I could see the channel in the middle of the river, clear as day. I've done this before and there's been thousands of fish to be clearly seen. Often you see the little eyes glowing like lighters at a Freddie Mercury tribute gig. But not tonight.
Friends, there was not a single fish anywhere on that stretch of water or on any of the half-dozen or so other spots I had a look at last night. I didn't even unpack my rod on the other spots, just had a search with the spotlight. Nothing - not even fry.
By this point, I was hearing the X-Files theme in the back of me head - a welcome change to the usual Jaws cello I normally hear when within 50' of an Aussie river! it was time to go home, but not before I amused meself fitfully, writing me name in the blue shimmer of the water ;D
So any ideas? Exactly what happened to the fish last night?
Cheers,
R
Last night, at about 10.30, having watched that thumbs-up perve fest they laughingly call Mile High, I got the urge ;)
So I grabbed me rod and off I went ;D.
Me missus is understanding that way, bless her little cotton socks. Never an objection if I decide to feed bait to the fishes, whatever ungodly hour it may be. She even encourages me to go for a fish at times with soft and tender phrases like "will you f&@k off out from under my f@#$!*g feet before I get a rusty chainsaw and dismember you for f*&%#@g berley!"
Words of leurve, eh? Such an angel, my sweet Aussie treasure is. I carry a photo of her with which to stun large sharks.
Anway, down I head to one of me usual haunts on the banks of the Tweed River (silent 'T') and set up. Hoik in the berley, hoik in the bait. Ten minutes pass and not even a picker nibble, which is unusual. I passed time admiring the semi-moonlit vista, a wonderland of mysterious shadows and half-heard whispers of the night. The water was a sheet of glass and it brought memories of my youth... the crisp winter mornings ice-skating on the bathtub before father came in with his pickaxe to break the surface for me morning scrub. Memories of wandering the 25 miles across the fields each-way to school, all uphill, jumping from cow-pat to cowpat to keep me feet warm, as we couldn't afford shoes. Me father would paint me feet black for Sunday church. Ahhh, happier times.
So, back to the present and I'm sat there impersonating a remarkably handsome garden gnome on the jetty by Dry Dock bridge. No bites yet. Nothing too unusual per se, ho-hum. I try a few different directions and a few different baits. Absolutely nothing fishy-wise, although I did notice a beautiful blue phosphorescence to the surface of the water. Sort of a microscopic son et lumiere, but flat. And quiet.
Still no bites, nibbles and strangely now - no signs of fishies whatosever. If you sit still by a bank long enough, you hear splashes, see ripples, etc... you lot know what I speak of. There was none of that. So, I shone me torch into the depths. Now, this particular spot on the river always has swarms of fish life around it. Big shoals of fry, small picker bream, the odd large fish patrolling the pylons of the jetty. Not tonight. There was nothing at all. I walked up and down a bit, checking. I even got the million candle-power spotlight out of the car and used that. With that thing in me hand, I could see the channel in the middle of the river, clear as day. I've done this before and there's been thousands of fish to be clearly seen. Often you see the little eyes glowing like lighters at a Freddie Mercury tribute gig. But not tonight.
Friends, there was not a single fish anywhere on that stretch of water or on any of the half-dozen or so other spots I had a look at last night. I didn't even unpack my rod on the other spots, just had a search with the spotlight. Nothing - not even fry.
By this point, I was hearing the X-Files theme in the back of me head - a welcome change to the usual Jaws cello I normally hear when within 50' of an Aussie river! it was time to go home, but not before I amused meself fitfully, writing me name in the blue shimmer of the water ;D
So any ideas? Exactly what happened to the fish last night?
Cheers,
R