OK, so garfish – barracuda, barracuda – garfish. A mistake anyone can make in a moment of excitement. And thanks to everyone for taking the time to write in and point this out. I'm pleased to see that you are all wide-awake. I was just testing after all.
So yes, caught a fish last month. I expected this to be the start of something dramatic. It usually is you know. And actually it was. I subsequently broke a bone in my ankle.
Now I'm not suggesting that the two are interlinked, but it does seem mighty suspicious if you ask me. I mean let's look at this closely: one minute I'm quite happy living a fishless blameless life, then, and mark this, I actually catch a fish. Almost immediately I am reduced to a hopping around the house getting people to give me cups of tea and sympathy. Coincidence? I'll let you decide.
Talking of which, this reminds me a boat-partner fishing friend from way back. Every time he caught a trophy fish, he crashed his car. Actually it became very sad in the end. He became paranoid whenever anything large rolled near his fly. He said that he would dearly love to catch another big fish, but that it just wasn't worth it and he couldn't afford another car. As it was he had written two off and his current vehicle was spilling oil and water like no tomorrow. I tried pointing out to him that my current vehicle was actually in far worse condition and I hadn't caught a large fish all season, but he wouldn't hear of it, and if he was forced to drive a car that looked anything like mine, he would rather stay at home and not go fishing at all.
So anyway the ankle's much better now. It's been a set back as far as the Noosa Triathlon bit goes and I'm having a bit of a rethink about that one. It's also put the podium dancing on hold too. Don't ask.
The Silver Lining
Of course breaking a bone was in fact the second best thing that could happen to Sexyloops (the best, naturally, being an order for 600 GLX rods, which hasn't happened yet, but there is a reason for me writing this: I have noticed that whenever I write something in this section it materialises. So far this has only happened with regards to bad things, but this is all I have been prophesising… until now that is. So we shall see). Anyway breaking a bone was so good for Sexyloops that Steve (website manager and pupil of The Experience) suggested to Karen (crazy Australian, photographer and the other pupil of The Experience) that she break my other one when this one has mended.
True I was busy, and even though the ankle is better, I don't seem to have slowed down. Lesson 2 has been long finished. Lesson 3 is in the works. I've been going through the site cleaning up bits and pieces, writing meta-tags and fixing layout problems. I'm also trying to archive Pic of the Day. Following the porcupine fish photo, I have decided that Karen's input is far too valuable to 'use and lose' as it were, and this stuff needs to be archived. Actually this was always the intention :-)
MadBrad the Flyfishing Cowboy has very kindly sent me a bunch of flies for use in the salt over here in Noosa. Now I don't know very much about saltwater fly ('oh really?') but I thought that there was some subtlety to the whole procedure. I can see now that this was a mistake. You know how you go through those moments of intense frustration during August on any large stillwater; it's sunny, it's hot (no not this year – I heard), the fish are just not interested in the slightest. You've been fishing all bloody day and although you had a pull at 8.15, fifteen minutes after you arrived, you've had nothing since, so what do you do? You dip into the dark recesses of your flybox and pull out the most hideous thing ever created. It's got bits of fluorescent orange and a hideous shade of lime green, and look: one eye. You tied this thing you don't know when. It can only have come from another dimension. No normal state of mind can have produced such a monstrosity.
So you tie it on and bung it out there. You might not be able to catch these fish, but you can sure as hell scare the crap out of them. And what happens? Well nothing actually. This is the bit where everyone says they catch fish. But it's a lie. They still catch bugger all. I talk from dedicated experience in these matters.
However this is not the case with saltwater. Apparently. We'll see.
Anyway MadBrad is following up his flies with lots of great advice. Soon I'm going to make this advice available to all. If I don't catch fish, I at least want someone else to blame!
Seem to be a feature of this site. Why, I can't say. Personally I'm not into them. However the bulletin board has once again produced the dreaded tailing loop scenario. But fortunately there's some great advice on how to dump them. I know I keep saying this, but I'll make a video clip soon. In the meantime have a look at this thread.
Lesson 2 is up. Frankly it's a hell of a lot of fun teaching Karen. Lesson 3 is on its way. Hopefully this one will involve a fish or two. Karen will have to watch her ankles (her car is even worse than mine – yes really).
The Advice Section
Certainly looks like becoming an integral part of this site. Please blast me your questions, as it is definitely a great source of content.
I'll be flying back to the UK on the 22nd September, just so long as the airlines manage to confirm my reservation, and we know what happened last year! But I really do have to get back this time, as there is the Chatsworth Fair at which I have to appear (I'll be appearing in three pairs of long johns, a double layer of fleece, chest waders and a balaclava). And for the rest of the time I'll be pretty much based around Colchester, teaching either in a field-river scenario at home or on location at Hanningfield. I'm really keen to book all my time in lessons so that I can get back to Australia as soon as possible.
And of course New Zealand is calling. Which seems like a good excuse for a picture.
So if you fancy making your loops a bit sexier then drop me an email.
Catch you later,