The Legend of a Bream called Trevor – Part 2
Posted by Meggs | Fishing Holiday Stories | Posted on October 16th, 2009
Greetings!
For those of you following me on www.twitter.com/skippermeggs or watching the twitter feed on the www.skippermeggs.com website you would be well aware that shortly I’ll be off on a slow boat to Vanuatu to celebrate my daughter’s 21st. Funnily enough she features in the continued story below as a sprightly seven year old helping her dad bring in the big ones down at the Georges River in the south west of Sydney. I hope you enjoy the continuation of this story….
The pier was free so we spread out our gear and I sent the kids off to find some crabs (to no avail) whilst I grabbed some water with my bait holder (a trusty plastic half oil container) to thaw out those frozen prawns. I’ve always been a great believer in burley but seldom used it. Call it good luck, good management or call it for what it was (BBQ leftovers) today was the day I chose to combine scrunched up, rock hard bread rolls with sand and a few mashed pillies and prawns for good measure.
“Ooh, yuk, Grose!” commented the ever vigilant Alisha.
A few days earlier I had taken Alisha to a nearby park to teach her the finer points of casting a fishing rod with an egg beater reel. Grant had already mastered this aspect and at least in the past had proved himself proficient in the art of knot tying and line rigging. Naturally when we arrived at Lambeth Park they had forgotten everything. They make it all seem so peaceful and pleasant on TV. You know – kids behaving themselves waiting patiently for the ubiquitous fish whilst dad relaxes with a good book and a bell on the end of his rod.
Not this trip! This was more than just virtual reality fishing….
Grant had seemingly forgotten how to tie and bait hooks and Alisha insisted on winding in her line the instant I handed back her rod after casting for her. There were more snags than in a butcher shop’s front window and I worked like a one arm paper hanger tying hooks and swivels and various rigs whilst settling disagreements between brother and sister.
“The day I chose to fish with the kids some village lost its idiot.” I thought to myself.
It was inevitable that one of the only baits I was able to get wet resulted in a dropped bream at the edge of the wharf courtesy of a decision to lift the fish out of the river rather than to lose both kidrens off the wharf with a landing net that couldn’t quite reach the water. Disgusted in missing the first catch of the day I instructed Grant and Alisha to “walk” the next fish along the edge of the wharf towards the beach rather than risk dropping another one.
We continued to burley up a treat whilst the tide swung back around but still there was no luck to be had. When all hope was just about lost I told the kids that dad would drown just one more prawn. I reached for my trusty old rod with the no frills reel and then into my tackle box for the last 1/0 chemically sharpened hook that I possessed. A running ball sinker down to the hook (as light as the current allowed) rounded off the outfit and it was into the water with a thawed out packet prawn for good measure.
Casting to the left of the wharf I watched the line as the tide dragged it across a patch of weed. A familiar tightening of the line and a sudden dipping of the rod soon indicated the presence of a fish which was quite heavy. I lifted and wound ah la Rex Hunt for the benefit of the kids with the fish taking some line from time to time when I saw a sudden flash of silver.
“A jewfish.” I thought.
But with a few more yards of gained nylon I could see that it was a majestically built snapper-like-bream; a fish I just had to land. With adrenaline pumping I guided the gracious fish along the wharf towards the sandy beach as I shouted hurried instructions to my number one son. But Grant found the fish too large and the water too shallow to slide a net into place and he grabbed the bream (like Tarzan would a crocodile) and literally threw it into the landing net.
I couldn’t believe that a write off of a day had ended in success with just one cast away from abandonment.
Tune in next week to find out what disaster strikes next as Skipper Meggs reveals the stunning conclusion to “The Legend of a Bream called Trevor”.
Sea you later,
Skipper Meggs