Go deep sea fishing

The stag party fishing crew.

I have never understood why people go fishing, as a pastime it looks about as interesting as waiting for a newly painted wall to dry yet people seem to love sitting on the edge of a river bank in the cold and the rain waiting for a fish to take the tasty morsel that that they have secured to a hook and dangled into the water. I suppose I can understand it a little more if you are out there to feed the family and are looking for a substantial meal but to take the fish from the pool, have a quick picture taken and then put the fish back so that someone else can do exactly the same thing a little later on completely bemuses me. I do wonder how many times the same fish has been caught from the small pools that some people visit and how much bigger it gets every time they tell the story of their epic battle between man and fish. You can imagine, then, my delight when my mate announced that he had arranged for us all to go fishing for his stag do. All of the equipment had been sorted and he had got beer. It turns out that we were not just going to be sitting on a soggy river bank though on this occasion, as we were in Western Australia we were actually getting on a boat and going deep sea fishing. We met quite early in the morning by the side of the Swan River and got on the boat, the skipper had warned that conditions were not great so we may be in for a bit of a bumpy time but at first it didn’t seem too bad. We got batted about a little but that was put down to the movement of the boat but when we reached the fishing spot we saw what he meant. As soon as the boat stopped we were aware of the swell of the ocean. It felt like the boat had been moored on top of a giant see saw as it was rocking back and forth and left to right at the same time. There were a few people on board that couldn’t handle it and said hello to their breakfast, last night’s dinner and even yesterday’s lunch but others were unperturbed and wasted no time getting the lines in the water. The sea conditions were not just bad for the humans, it seems that there were very few fish about as well as only 1 or 2 people actually caught anything so after a while it was decided that we move on. Firstly to Rottnest Island, to drop off the ones who were feeling under the weather, and then onto a better spot. The second spot was not much better but after a little while we heard an excited yelp from the rear of the boat and a few of us rushed to see what was causing the uproar. One of the more experienced fishermen had a bite. He wasn’t sure what he’d got but it was a spirited little blighter and was already giving him a little trouble.

He spent about 10 -15 minutes letting the line out and reeling the fish in a little further then letting a little more line out and reeling in until his opponent came into view. A deathly hush fell over the boat when we saw what was on the end of the line. As he pulled at the line a dorsal fin popped above the surface of the water, he’d somehow managed to hook a small hammerhead shark, it was only a baby but still upwards of 18 inches – 2 foot in length. He worked harder and harder to get the beast and eventually man was the clear winner. As our excitement grew the skipper made his way to the back just as the head of the shark left the water. Our hammerhead was not happy about his encounter and his jaws were opening and closing like he was trying to eat the world’s chewiest toffee. All we needed were 2 more winds of the reel and the shark would be landed but the skipper stepped forward and cut the line, releasing the shark with an indignant, “Not on my boat lads, sorry”. He later explained that even though he was only a small fish, once he was landed he’d be a nightmare. He was thrashing about on the line, imagine that on a boat, with people. Although I was disappointed that they had not got to land a shark I was also happy that the angry mouthful of teeth stood no chance of being introduced to my soft human flesh. After this excitement we called it a day and made our way back to shore. The weather conditions had got worse by now so it was full speed back home. We arrived at our destination a dozen cold, wet stags with no fish to show for the day and an untouched tubs of beer. But we nearly caught a shark. How about that for a tale of the one that got away??