i cut up the bream by splitting him up the middle/ and i
walked down the river a few hundred yards/ to the big
deep hole/ i put half the bream on the hook and the nylon
line which was one hundred pounds breaking strain/ i
threw the line about half way out/ tied it to the end of a
root/ put a dead stick in the ground for a temporary
springer/ looped the line around it and started to walk up
the bank to get a green sapling springer/ i was half way
up when i heard a loud crunch/ looked around and the
dead springer was smashed to pieces/ i ran down the
bank and tried to pull in the line/ he was a big fish/ the
cod nearly pulled me into the river so pressed myself up
against a tree for support/ the cod was nearly pulling
my shoulder blades out/ i knew he was big like a shark/
(the 75 pounder i caught 12 months earlier was a sardine
compared to this one)/ i kept the strain on him for about
five minutes which seemed like an hour/ the blood was
running out of both my hands/ the line was cutting them
to pieces/ the shock came when i saw him emerge under
the clear water/ the bastard was swimming in only half
fighting with me/ when he got close to the bank his big
eyes looked at me/ then he rolled and took off upstream/
his huge tail coming out of the water/ slapping his tail
like a whale/ i thought he was going to pull both my
arms off/ then all of a sudden the line smashed in two
and i fell backwards on my bum/ and he was gone/ i swam
back across the river and walked three miles home sore
shoulders and hands cut to pieces/ mum poured kerosene
on my hands to stop infection and bandaged them up/ she
gave me some castor oil on a large spoon to swallow/ the
oil tasted like possum piss/ not that i've ever tasted it
