No pictures needed

Our caravan park in Bourke was quite beautiful and sat happily on the ever rising Darling River. We decided to take advantage of this and go fishing. Now most everyone in my family fishes. My father packs and packs and prepares weeks ahead even if he’s only off for a couple of days to try and catch the big one. My brothers, nephews and nieces are all keen on throwing in a line so every now and again I have a go.

We packed our rods, chairs and cheese. For those of you that don’t know this is how you catch cod according to an old guy in a pub in Echuca and a couple of guys hauling them in Condobolin along side the man eating mosquitos. They like cheese it’s their thing. Not sure if a block of Black and Gold is suitable but no way was I sharing my blue.

It was quite hot but we settled on the banks with chairs and suitable beverages required to enhance the fishing experience. Other than the 40 thousand flies that came out of no where it was quite peaceful. There was nobody about so we settled in. As we sat in the heat I said to The Husband that I wouldn’t mind getting in. His immediate statement being “DO NOT GO NEAR THE EDGE”. Ho hum the fun police was at it again but then again the huge current and floating logs due to recent floods meant that this may of been advice worth listening to.

I decided that the flies were just to much and the heat was beginning to lesson the joy of fishing. What the hell, there’s nobody about I decided to take my shirt off place it over my Akubra to act as a fly net. There I was in nothing but shorts and a tshirt covered hat. A sight to behold, topless fishing and burning boobs. As we sat continually casting into the river and as usual catching stuff all, I thought I heard voices, not wanting to send anyone into counselling I hastily put my top back on and sat back down to fry.

My feet were starting to itch and they were getting hotter so whilst he wasn’t looking I may have done exactly what he told me not to do….I went near the edge. All of a sudden the mud sunk like quicksand under my feet and down I slid into the river. My thongs stuck like glue I was arse down in the mud unable to stand. The Husband, the gentleman he is proceeded to lecture and laugh at the same time. I hauled myself out, no help from him. Covered from from hips to feet in mud, you’d expect some sympathy……but no. “You’re not getting into the car like that, you’ll have to take off your shorts, dry them off and then shake off the mud.” So there I was standing in only in a g-string, tshirt and Akubra. It’s not like I could get into the river to wash off the mud, the river was running so fast I would of been washed down to Victoria.

So there I stood in all my glory, covered in sludge….and not much else, fine if you’re 28 not 58. I hear a boat. Who the hell would be on a boat in flood waters driving up the river at break neck speed. I grab the shorts and not wanting to bend over to put my shorts on I quickly hold the muddy shorts in front of me less they see me standing with a fishing rod, half naked juggling cheese.

Finally after shaking the mud off, covering the new car in blankets, not for my modesty but god forbid I dirty the car seat. I finish the fishing adventure with no fish, little dignity and a shit load of cheese. I bet my brothers have never fished in their underwear and a hat….just sayin