Post by theoldfart on Jun 16, 2012 19:13:31 GMT
Bloody Weather…Looks like we had summer back in March..
So the boat has been put back for the snails, the Mighty Seagull is back in the shed ;new plug and all, and the boat gear stacked behind it.
Still not to be outdone I tells Nipper that I am going night fishing at spot X
.
‘ We ain’t been there for years dad’ he says. ‘Can I bring Nipper with me?’
Bloody hell, that means that Nippers ,Nipper will want to bring his Nipper and it will be ‘Great Grandad’ this and ‘Great Granddad’ that all bloody night and you knows that the little shite will get board after 10 minutes and want to go home.
Still like a mug I says yes.
Seeing as it has turned into a family outing I decides we might as well go the whole Hog and have a bit of a fire on the beach and a cook up. At least it will keep Nipper’s, Nipper’s , Nipper amused and he can bugger off looking for wood while we starts fishing.
Mrs Oldfart sorts out the provisions , enough for three days for a battalion of men by the look of it.
I don’t think she knows how far spot X is away from a car park. Not that she would give a toss anyway.
I told her that she was lucky we don’t live in foreign climes , cos the woman would have to carry all the gear for the menfolk, and she told me to ‘sod off’ and carry it myself.
Perhaps I should get another wife or two like the ‘Rag Heads’.
There’s a name for men who have more than one wife.
Ah! I remember it’s ‘Poor Bastard’
Still with the car loaded with food, fishing gear and more Nippers than a bucket full of crabs, we sets off, full of hope and expectation.
Gets to the car park and unloads.
The rug rat is off with his rod keen as mustard, Nippers Nipper has his rod and rod rest, Nipper has his rod and their tackle box, I looks like a giant Caddis Fly Lave with all the bags, rucksacks and gear they left me with.
Eventually we gets to spot X
‘Where you been Granddad/great granddad / dad, we been waiting for you’
Bloody hell, for sixpence I could have bought a Rubber Jonny all those years ago and saved all this grief.
Still we sets up the rods
I sends the nippers off to find some wood for a fire. The pickings were not good owing to bloody container ships, but they do find enough to make a fire.
Trouble is it is wet.
They all try's to get the fire going but fails.
Eventually I gives in.
‘Nipper’ I says you take they two Nippers down to the sea and fill this cup up with sea water, then I will show you a trick to light a fire I learned , when I was in Borneo Jungle where the wood is wet all the time.’
Off they goes and brings back a cup of sea water. I pours it in the middle of the wood. Then I says the magic incantation and does the waving hand bit.
‘Stand back’ I says, and light a match to it.
Up the fire goes.
They is impressed!!!
Daft bastards, when they were getting the water I poured a bottle of White Spirits, that I had brought with me, over the wood, and carefully poured the sea water in the middle.
At last we gets the fire going and starts a cook up.
The fishing was shite.
My mate George told me that if there was a lot of weed about, it was worth persevering as you can make some good catches.
He was right we caught loads of weed!
Just as the food is ready, this prick turns up.
Some Geordie that I can hardly understand.
‘You cannn’y light a fire here mon ‘he says .
I tells him that I can and I have.
Then I askes him who he is.
He is a warden from the National Trust.
‘There’s a notice about lighting fires by the car park’ he says’ Can’t you read?’
‘Bloody right I can read’ I tells him ‘That’s why I didn’t end up as a warden for the National Trust.’
Eventually he gets nasty. so I has to tell him that....
‘Actually my grandfather gave this land to the trust with a proviso that any living member of the family have a right to access to the shore and to light fires there on’
Daft bastard swallowed that bullshit and pissed off . Presumably to go and hang a few monkeys somewhere! (Younger readers ask your dad about this)
Someone told me that there was no such thing as a Geordie till a Scotchman Fuxxx a pig.
He was living proof of it!!
Just as we finishes our grub, it starts raining, then it lashes down.
‘Nippers’ I says’ Home time’ we walks down to the rods and the rug rat’s rod takes off. He grabs it and with a bit of help, gets the bloody fish in .
Fuxxxng Bass about 4lb 5 oz 7 grams 9 ( he weighed it later.)
So we packs up.
Going back was worse as it is uphill.
We is soaked to the skin and the rug rat is proud as a dog with three dicks carrying his fish.
I am carrying everything else.
The thing is I knows, as I trudges homeward, is that I will NEVER live this down from Mrs Oldfart and family
‘Oh’ you three men went fishing and never caught a thing but the little shite did’
(Actually Mrs Oldfart don’t call him that, but I do!)
Eventually we gets home to admire the fish,
Cold, wet, covered in mud, and knackered, in need of a hot bath, but we have to get the family round for a photo shoot of the fish.
Fuxx me it was hardly ‘ Spencer Tracy in Old Man of the Sea’.
The little turd got a Bass by pure luck.
Bloody women don’t understand it was beginners luck and us Nippers was preserving fish stocks by not catching anything.
Tell the truth it was all worth it cos Nipper’s Nipper’s, Nipper will never forget it.
Trouble is , he won’t let us forget it either.
Ever!!!
Bloody Beach Fishing.
So the boat has been put back for the snails, the Mighty Seagull is back in the shed ;new plug and all, and the boat gear stacked behind it.
Still not to be outdone I tells Nipper that I am going night fishing at spot X
.
‘ We ain’t been there for years dad’ he says. ‘Can I bring Nipper with me?’
Bloody hell, that means that Nippers ,Nipper will want to bring his Nipper and it will be ‘Great Grandad’ this and ‘Great Granddad’ that all bloody night and you knows that the little shite will get board after 10 minutes and want to go home.
Still like a mug I says yes.
Seeing as it has turned into a family outing I decides we might as well go the whole Hog and have a bit of a fire on the beach and a cook up. At least it will keep Nipper’s, Nipper’s , Nipper amused and he can bugger off looking for wood while we starts fishing.
Mrs Oldfart sorts out the provisions , enough for three days for a battalion of men by the look of it.
I don’t think she knows how far spot X is away from a car park. Not that she would give a toss anyway.
I told her that she was lucky we don’t live in foreign climes , cos the woman would have to carry all the gear for the menfolk, and she told me to ‘sod off’ and carry it myself.
Perhaps I should get another wife or two like the ‘Rag Heads’.
There’s a name for men who have more than one wife.
Ah! I remember it’s ‘Poor Bastard’
Still with the car loaded with food, fishing gear and more Nippers than a bucket full of crabs, we sets off, full of hope and expectation.
Gets to the car park and unloads.
The rug rat is off with his rod keen as mustard, Nippers Nipper has his rod and rod rest, Nipper has his rod and their tackle box, I looks like a giant Caddis Fly Lave with all the bags, rucksacks and gear they left me with.
Eventually we gets to spot X
‘Where you been Granddad/great granddad / dad, we been waiting for you’
Bloody hell, for sixpence I could have bought a Rubber Jonny all those years ago and saved all this grief.
Still we sets up the rods
I sends the nippers off to find some wood for a fire. The pickings were not good owing to bloody container ships, but they do find enough to make a fire.
Trouble is it is wet.
They all try's to get the fire going but fails.
Eventually I gives in.
‘Nipper’ I says you take they two Nippers down to the sea and fill this cup up with sea water, then I will show you a trick to light a fire I learned , when I was in Borneo Jungle where the wood is wet all the time.’
Off they goes and brings back a cup of sea water. I pours it in the middle of the wood. Then I says the magic incantation and does the waving hand bit.
‘Stand back’ I says, and light a match to it.
Up the fire goes.
They is impressed!!!
Daft bastards, when they were getting the water I poured a bottle of White Spirits, that I had brought with me, over the wood, and carefully poured the sea water in the middle.
At last we gets the fire going and starts a cook up.
The fishing was shite.
My mate George told me that if there was a lot of weed about, it was worth persevering as you can make some good catches.
He was right we caught loads of weed!
Just as the food is ready, this prick turns up.
Some Geordie that I can hardly understand.
‘You cannn’y light a fire here mon ‘he says .
I tells him that I can and I have.
Then I askes him who he is.
He is a warden from the National Trust.
‘There’s a notice about lighting fires by the car park’ he says’ Can’t you read?’
‘Bloody right I can read’ I tells him ‘That’s why I didn’t end up as a warden for the National Trust.’
Eventually he gets nasty. so I has to tell him that....
‘Actually my grandfather gave this land to the trust with a proviso that any living member of the family have a right to access to the shore and to light fires there on’
Daft bastard swallowed that bullshit and pissed off . Presumably to go and hang a few monkeys somewhere! (Younger readers ask your dad about this)
Someone told me that there was no such thing as a Geordie till a Scotchman Fuxxx a pig.
He was living proof of it!!
Just as we finishes our grub, it starts raining, then it lashes down.
‘Nippers’ I says’ Home time’ we walks down to the rods and the rug rat’s rod takes off. He grabs it and with a bit of help, gets the bloody fish in .
Fuxxxng Bass about 4lb 5 oz 7 grams 9 ( he weighed it later.)
So we packs up.
Going back was worse as it is uphill.
We is soaked to the skin and the rug rat is proud as a dog with three dicks carrying his fish.
I am carrying everything else.
The thing is I knows, as I trudges homeward, is that I will NEVER live this down from Mrs Oldfart and family
‘Oh’ you three men went fishing and never caught a thing but the little shite did’
(Actually Mrs Oldfart don’t call him that, but I do!)
Eventually we gets home to admire the fish,
Cold, wet, covered in mud, and knackered, in need of a hot bath, but we have to get the family round for a photo shoot of the fish.
Fuxx me it was hardly ‘ Spencer Tracy in Old Man of the Sea’.
The little turd got a Bass by pure luck.
Bloody women don’t understand it was beginners luck and us Nippers was preserving fish stocks by not catching anything.
Tell the truth it was all worth it cos Nipper’s Nipper’s, Nipper will never forget it.
Trouble is , he won’t let us forget it either.
Ever!!!
Bloody Beach Fishing.
