Fishing at Spencer

Me and the old man and my brothers spent many a weekend fishing at Spencer.

One night, my brother Goog caught a giant eel.

It was so big , it coiled around the boat in two laps.

The old man said to Goog: "If you bring that in the boat, I'm getting out."

"How about the sharks," Goog said.

"I'd rather face sharks than that thing," said the old man.

Goog reluctanly cut it off.

The old man softened the blow by explaining the difficult logistics of subduing the animal and where would you get a pot big enough to cook it in?

It would be like trying to bake an elephant.

Even Goog could see the logic in that.

Another day, Goog hooked a giant flathead.

It took him about an hour to get it to the surface and it was bigger than the boat.

As we didn't have a net, the old man suggested we swim it in the boat.

We all leant over to one side and I had visions of swimming home, when Goog got a bit anxious and tried to lift the fish.

The line snapped and the flathead wearily made its way back to the bottom.

We had to restrain dad from diving in after it.

Young Al went out fishing with the old man on another occasion and the old man hooked onto another monster.

They had a net this day, so he told young Al to get ready.

Al looked into the water and he said: "There's something wrong with this flathead. It's only got one eye."

Dad said: "Look over the other side of the boat."

At that, the flathead took one look at Al, and very un-flathead-like took off like a speed boat.

Al and the old man hung on grimly.

After being towed all around the Hawkesbury River, the line parted.

Young Al made a vow.

Never, never, would he go out fishing in a rowboat or dinghy again.

Keith Whitfield, Woy Woy