So I had my arm to its elbow up my itchy and scratchy when the bloody fone rings and it's sprocket McClacka, with these words. “Wanna go fishing mate?”
I politely informed him of the current state of affairs, to which he said “We'll take the A.I.s out for a run off Mooloolaba”.
I started soeking straight up "Have you seen the bloody wind mate, she's straight out of the north, we'll catch sweet fanny all in that wind… blah,blah blah."
I returned his call half an hour later, told him I would see him at six. I got there earlier to take my time setting up and casting an appreciative eye at the nubile joggers.
Very light winds early up, had to pedal sail. We got to what we call
the 'marlin grounds'; bullshit more like bloody whale grounds. Sprocket was yelling at one point that I was heading straight over a whale, and that I should be more whale aware ;-). Pinged one on the sounder today, it looked like a massive blob of baitfish, I could hear his song reverberate thru my hull, kinda like that cheesy hippy musak.
Sprocket
Caught a few small reefies, whilst drifting. Bugger that, time for a troll. I put on a gar, and a Rapala on my Freshie stick. I was trolling at a mere 1.8 knots when all hell breaks loose on the gar rod.
After a spirited fight, I have a SPANISH on board. Yeeehaaa, I started hollering like a stuck pig.
Did I say the spanish was not a record fish?
The other rod with the rapala was taken into the stones during the fight.
Sprocket caught some sort of mackerel and a lovely snap, I am sure he will add more later.
Also I whupped his ass sailing back to port, he really must hate my wake, the poor thing.
Salti
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