Back when I was a nipper, I was taken fishing by my Grandfather.
I was only six or seven and so my memories aren’t clear, but I can’t articulate enough how much that trip meant to me. Particularly as my Grandfather died the following year.
He was a character, that was for sure. My most vivid memory of him was that he loved his whisky, with just a dash of water in it. I remember clearly his voice calling out to my Mother “Don’t drench it Gwen, whatever you do!”
On this particular day, we set off in his car. He was the terror of the area because he insisted on driving at twenty miles per hour and no faster, regardless of how many people cursed and beeped their horn. It took nearly forty minutes to reach the harbour, a trip that takes me just twenty nowadays.
Grandfather had managed to pull a few strings with some of his old contacts at the harbour where he had worked as a docker for many years and managed to borrow a small motorboat for the day.
As the engine went “Putt, putt, putt” it became clear that Grandfather was no faster on the water than he was on land.
Eventually, we reached a spot out to sea and grandfather taught me how to cast the fishing line.
Something tugged on my line almost immediately.
“Grandpa! I think I’ve caught something,” I exclaimed.
“Well, reel it in son, don’t let it get away” he cried back.
Together we reeled in the line, it took both of us, then it emerged, the biggest fish I had ever seen. It was as tall as I was, admittedly I wasn’t tall for my age, but it was pretty impressive considering we’d forgotten to pack any bait.
This story was written for A Guy Called Bloke’s Challenge, click on the link below:
I have also included the following word prompts:
Right OK. I admit it, I didn’t read Rory’s instructions fully. I skipped the part about marking the story out of ten for believability! So I was a bit taken back by the marking…
Anyway please forgive me, I am most penitent. 😉
Here is what I should have added.
Out of Ten, how believable do you think my story is?