Coastlines

Ken Dalzell (Matey ) unskunked

Unskunked

We got skunked last time we were here Matey reckoned.

How these appalling Americanisms have infiltrated our language I’ll never know – perhaps it’s down to Trump.

Anyways, there goes another one, we approached the lake with enthusiasm still bubbling quietly underneath our misgivings, simply because we were going fishing and that’s the important thing.

‘Mr Skunk’ was not yet finished with us. Even before we were in the boat, he contrived to cause me to slide very suddenly down a muddy bank and bang, I was flat on my back. My first fall! Matey didn’t convulse in laughter this time, as he was parking the vehicle and trailer. Muddied but unbowed, we continued to launch, where I discovered my fishing polys’ were not in the boat.

Enthusiasm overcame concern for a fly in the eye and not being able to spot fish, so off we went to the first spot, where Matey rose and quelled a thumper. Four and a half, perhaps five pounds of energetic, fighting, piscatorial energy. Ah well, time to swap places to my turn on the rod while he rowed, which is how we always do things. Then the flat lake surface began to be splattered with drops of rain, so out came the wet gear. Minutes later it stopped, the sun came out and it became hot. It did this from time to time during the day.

Matey rowed, rowed and rowed but we spotted nary a finned creature, so the suggestion was made and agreed we would fizz across to the other side, where we’d done well in other times. This proved useful and after some concentrated casting, I picked up a nice fish, then had the lack of skills to miss two more.

Into a nice nook, where the sammies were broken out and reflections made on how wonderful these places are and how privileged we are to have lunch in such beautiful places. We certainly don’t take our environment for granted, you listening Eugenie?

After lunch we continued drifting along the shoreline of flax, reeds, bulrush and bush down to the waterline, then got onto several more nice ones. I had one that spat the dummy, Matey picked up another good one then I lost a nice fish – strategic midlake release!

Time marched on as it does when you fish, so we headed back to the ramp where various campervans began to settle in for the night.

We tidied things off with the boat and slowly pulled away for the run home, making a stop for a bit of NPD diesel fuel and another to get some refreshments.

While making the milkshake purchase I met a wonderful former colleague who looked at me and said, “You look as if you have been having fun.”

Think she summed the day up perfectly.

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