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Between a rock and a wet place there's a fish.

Deano's one of my best mates. Undoubtedly the best fish spotter I know and one hell of an angler. As far as river crossing goes there's just about nothing he can't cross. Which makes life interesting when we fish together.
This was a tough day. Never have I had to swim the river so many times, every crossing was a challenge, one in particular I failed to cross four times before committing myself to run a lower rapid.
Thirteen hours of frustration, one immense climb, bush bashing, about 40 cold and technical river crossings, Christ alone knows how many swims, and sheer hard work.
All told, we had around eight shots at fish. Deano picked one up on the way in, around five pounds and I landed this one at the top of the gorge. Eight and a half pounds. We both lost another fish each, probably both were bigger than the one I landed.

Edited by Paul
Edited by Paul

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