Monday, Monday.

First day of the last week of home schooling and the natives were restless. Very restless. But Dad, you promised we could go fishing. (I hadn't). But we posted the letters and you said we could go fishing (well, when Bozza says yes and it's warm and the lake is open). But you said we could go fishing. 

So we did. Cold, wet , muddy and fastish river. No 3m whips to hand today. Half a bluey, nailed down in any suitable slack. Which conveniently was about 20 yards from the charabanc. Now girls, we might only  catch a crayfish, not a pike. Just watch the float, the rod tip and that buzzer thing. Gosh, fishing is complicated when you think about it. So they watched  and listened intently.

For about 2 seconds. Which in this case was nearly long enough. Daddy, it's nodding. It's buzzing. It was. Crayfish-like for a bit then off into the flow. Wind down to set the hook then let them hold the rod for a bit before getting it in the net. How's that for your first pike. Their dream pike.

And they only went and got another one and netted it as well like pros. Easy isn't it this pike fishing lark. Think I'd better check the butt section for damage.....

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