Lower Glenelg N.P. – 28 November 2001
It was a pleasant evening when we tried,
After not a minute "I've got one", was cried,
Julie the angler had come to the fore,
A fisherwoman of guile, just like old folklore.
The rod was vigorously hoist, the reel was turned,
This fighting fish was going to be earned,
But after an epic struggle the piscatorial beast
gave to,
No match for a fisherwoman that knew what
to do.
Our dinner, a regale, the night's fare was to
be took,
On the pointy end of the fisherwoman's hook,
The drag had promise, it was to be a feast,
Fire up the barby, a bottle of wine at least.
But alas, a joke; surely a jest,
This fish was to be bigger than all of the rest,
It emerged from the water, as is its fate,
Pity the bugger was no bigger than the bait
R.I.P – The tiddler