Beekeeper (Jimbo- aka TC) and I returned today, buoyed by the Pine Princess's session last Wednesday (viewtopic.php?f=17&t=62332&p=659498), and our tailor session last Friday.
Princess opened the batting with a 44 cm tailor, but the next few hours her royal duties took her far away, searching for more jewels towards Deepwater and beyond. I left her to go upstream for zilch, until the princess appeared all despondent way back upstream, and without the royal jewels. She appears to have caught all the Jew in the Pine.
As she approached me, my ZZZZZ device warned of interest, and a lovely 45 cm tailor came to the yak, but not easily. Another fat one, like most of them here lately, all appearing to have been dining royally.
We went downstream with Princess getting one touch, and then she decides to paddle back upstream 500 metres against the tide. Not wishing to be left out I dutifully followed her. Easy for a young thing like her, in her light yak, but me oh my, what a battle at my age in a 50 kg yak! She got a decent hit and sadly pulled in only a lip fragment.
Soon after my ZZZZZ device sang sweetly and loudly. Unfortunately it stopped after a few seconds, and there was nothing. Nothing at all. But wait, a shake, there's a shake. Something is there, and a few good runs as a decent flattie spies the yellow Bismark battleship. A dogged fight ensues…who said flatties don't fight?
Into the net at 62 cm…a peasant's reward for following Princess. She landed another smaller tailor, which spewed up three five cm fish (whole). This is the reason the tailor are so fat. We parted again soon after, her to home as I chased the last two hours of run-out for the Haughton Highway, encountering on the way some of the dreaded 'snot weed' that clogs HB lures.
Passing Dohle's Rocks another flattie screamer, and again it won't come to the yak. This one goes 64 cm. Photo time on the sandbank.
The tide turns for this peasant, and soon after the run in started. I followed it back into a setting sun, then a set sun, and as dimming light enshrouded me the same lure signalled another runner, only 400 metres from home. Sweet!
One happy peasant!
Princess opened the batting with a 44 cm tailor, but the next few hours her royal duties took her far away, searching for more jewels towards Deepwater and beyond. I left her to go upstream for zilch, until the princess appeared all despondent way back upstream, and without the royal jewels. She appears to have caught all the Jew in the Pine.
As she approached me, my ZZZZZ device warned of interest, and a lovely 45 cm tailor came to the yak, but not easily. Another fat one, like most of them here lately, all appearing to have been dining royally.
We went downstream with Princess getting one touch, and then she decides to paddle back upstream 500 metres against the tide. Not wishing to be left out I dutifully followed her. Easy for a young thing like her, in her light yak, but me oh my, what a battle at my age in a 50 kg yak! She got a decent hit and sadly pulled in only a lip fragment.
Soon after my ZZZZZ device sang sweetly and loudly. Unfortunately it stopped after a few seconds, and there was nothing. Nothing at all. But wait, a shake, there's a shake. Something is there, and a few good runs as a decent flattie spies the yellow Bismark battleship. A dogged fight ensues…who said flatties don't fight?
Into the net at 62 cm…a peasant's reward for following Princess. She landed another smaller tailor, which spewed up three five cm fish (whole). This is the reason the tailor are so fat. We parted again soon after, her to home as I chased the last two hours of run-out for the Haughton Highway, encountering on the way some of the dreaded 'snot weed' that clogs HB lures.
Passing Dohle's Rocks another flattie screamer, and again it won't come to the yak. This one goes 64 cm. Photo time on the sandbank.
The tide turns for this peasant, and soon after the run in started. I followed it back into a setting sun, then a set sun, and as dimming light enshrouded me the same lure signalled another runner, only 400 metres from home. Sweet!
One happy peasant!
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