Fresh Fish For Tea

Richo saw some Bass Fisherman on the river the other day, it was a nice morning so he and Tilly took a break from playing tug to have a breather and a sticky beak at the fisherman. After about 10 minutes he came running up to tell me "Those blokes just caught 3 big Perch in a few minutes!!!" After a quick scan through his lures (a collection that is so vast Tackleworld Australia would be envious) he and Tilly bolted back to the river. Now Richo   is a bit sun shy after a few skin cancer scares, he tends not to spend much time in the sun during the hottest part of the day. Frantically Slip Slop and Slapping and they were off. I had to go and check out the excitement and ended up catching a fish too. So peaceful sitting by the river in the morning air catching dinner. Richo concentrating on refining his tackle combinations and me quietly musing over the best way to cook the fish we hadn't even caught yet. Meanwhile Tilly pensively watching the line on the seat beside me whilst I absent mindedly tickle her ear much like a person would twiddle their hair, oblivious to the action, Portia the geriatric chihuahua wandering aimlessly around in her own little befuddled world. 

We only ever take what we can eat and even the fish scraps are fed to the grateful pelicans whilst the frames and skeletons go to crab bait. Nothing is wated.

The river is ever changing, the log that floated  past this morning floats back this afternoon in a different tide in a different direction, this time it's picked up a hitch hiker, a shag sits surveying his territory on the lookout for a meal too. One day I watched him try to eat a bream that was to big for him to pick up.  He wrestled with it for almost an hour before swimming off in a huff. His perseverance was admirable but he still swam away hungry.

A little houseboat pottered past and the skipper gave us a big wave, the friendly kind,  not the bank destroying deep wash that rams your boat into the jetty caused by noisy thoughtless ski boat drivers who are under some misguided illusion that I want to see them throw their skiers off while they slalom around destroying the river bank, cutting off our crab pot bouys with their propellers and thus interfering with the peaceful river life existence. The river is there for all to enjoy, not just a select few with total disregard for the safety and comfort of the rest of us. One moron went so close one day I thought his skier would hit the bank, instead he rooster tailed a huge sheet of water over my neighbour and myself thoroughly drenching us and the camera I was using to photograph little fish under the jetty. Funny?? I think not!! Such selfish, immature, show off behaviour is both destructive and illegal and is what gives responsible boaties a bad name.