Down By The River - Chapter 18 - Mildura & the Houseboat Day 14

Did I end up making the 200 - yes and then one. 201 in the ranks of “caught by hook”. But when added to those silly enough to get themselves caught in the shrimp net, the number was well over 400.

DOWN BY THE RIVER

 

Chapter 18 – Mildura & the Houseboat Day 14

 

The remnants of the tempest from last night are gone. All that is left is a clear crisp morning. The inside of the houseboat is filled with the aroma of rising bread. Momo has been up early to set the breadmaker.

 

I too am up (but not early) to set lines chasing the elusive 200. That’s 200 Carp for the trip, clearly wanting to do my part in their eradication.

 

One should never put a line in front of me but I do it myself quite a bit. A line is only something that should be surpassed in my view but it also signifies the end. A line was one of the things I suggest sent me broke back in the day. Wanting to be a millionaire by the time I turned 30, I had achieved it, but by not resetting expectations, I fell into the trap of comfort, made a poor error of judgement on a business deal and was soon starting again. The cost though was immense.

 

That I have promised myself it will not happen again.

 

Nothing is going well early, the fish apparently did not get the memo and have slept in. My reckoning in my head last night suggested I had only 22 to catch but a spreadsheet check this morning suggests I was 10 out – bugger.

 

A quick check of the lines has one without bait but the other not only with bait still attached but with conquest number one for the day well attached. It is dispatched and the line returned to the river for the next one.

 

One down 31 to go. With our need to move today this is not going to happen, but then another commits suicide and I am at 2 and no one has risen for breakfast as yet.  By 8.30am I have four including a monster which would tip the scales at around 3 kilograms.

 

Right from the start this was a different fight. I had no control early and needed to let it run. Maurice is watching on with interest. For the first time we get the fish to the surface and he gasps at the size and the thought of getting it into the net. Almost like Brodie in Jaws (1975 Universal) where he makes that immortal quip “we are going to need a bigger boat”, Maurice is thinking we are going to need a bigger net.

 

Surfacing and reinvigorating the fight several times, we eventually have the fish tired enough to attempt a netting. Exhausted the fish is dragged across the stern to the net, allows itself to be nosed therein and then the new struggle starts. Lifting the net. I holster the rod and move to assist my netter. In the confusion the fish ends up back in the water and a short retake of the fight starts all over again.

 

Second time we have learned and Maurcie has done some quick bodybuilding exercises and will deal with the net himself, so he says. His exercises prove fruitful and the fish, half in the net, is on the back landing in due course.

 

All this number crunching brings me to the great adage – there are lies, damn lies and statistics. Perhaps even more so today talking about fishing and the stretching of truths as to dimensions, weights etc fisherman are supposedly renowned for, I would have no idea of course of what this means. Although some, particularly my wife, might suggest I am it’s personification. But fisherman have been known to stretch the truth, especially plied with alcohol or amongst wide eyed mates.

 

The numbers don’t lie, it is the interpretation of the numbers that clouds the discussion. Is the glass half full or is it half empty? It takes an interpretation, right or wrong based on your inclining towards a certain base to make an assertion. The glass no matter what your interpretation still contains 50% of its potential volume.

 

All that aside, its our last full day on the river. We have stayed tied to the wharf at Trentham Estates for the past few days, not because we want to continually imbibe at wine tastings, and we certainly did do that, but the internet is good, the restaurant is closed so we are not in the way of anyone, and its just a nice place to be. 

 

Last night it was potentially the safest place to be given the lashing of the wind and the propensity for trees to drop limbs – they are not nicknamed “widowmakers” for nothing. On trips previously we have been close to falling limbs in the middle of the night, and not far from the houseboat either. Apparently one fell that was so large it made the houseboat rock. I was asleep at the time and felt nothing.

 

We move closer to our final destination, the place from which we started, but not all the way. Tonight we will moor at Gol Gol wharf, a small town adjacent to Mildura. We can go to the pub if we like, but don’t. We have more than enough provisions in the fridge for a huge final cook up.

 

The fish seem to be well fed here at this jetty and the numbers climb regularly. Another monster is hooked, netted and disposed of, just shy of the size of the fish earlier in the day. Today was supposed to be all about numbers but ended up in dealing with memorable fights, two of them in fact.

 

Did I end up making the 200 – yes and then one. 201 in the ranks of “caught by hook”. But when added to those silly enough to get themselves caught in the shrimp net, the number was well over 400. That’s an average of just over 28 Carp per day we were on the river, with my best “hooking” day being 43.

 

Although we don’t leave the boat until tomorrow we are already packing. Its a sad time. It has been a lot of fun. We have eaten and drunk far too much and in between exercised, caught fish, renewed business plans and generally just enjoyed the company.

 

Both families have long distances to travel tomorrow. 600+  kilometres for us and just shy of 500 for our houseboat mates. An early start will be imperative.

 

For now though its time to settle in for the last repast (except for breakfast on the run in the morning) together. 

 

The sunset, like our moods, is a little grey tonight. The sun peering through the clouds as it drops behind them into the oblivion of the night, mirroring our sentiments.

 

Its been a fun two weeks. We have gotten a lot done in terms of business, not that we came for that reason. Small business people like us never seem to get away from it, and although “retired” from the rigours of full time accounting, I still run several but not with the hands on pressure of Maurice and Lyn. 

 

For them its the continual struggle to be an overnight success. Their peers acknowledge their acumen and expertise, the general (purchasing) public not so much. For them its a struggle one might suggest they should not be engaged, discounting to make sales rather than simply being the best in their industry – which they are.

 

The issue is the competition and while I am joking about the lies, damn lies and statistics of fishing, in business, the truths, half truths and damn lies of marketers is the norm. It is impossible to get away from it.

 

I have another business in which I have a financial interest, where the principal is acknowledged as the leader in the industry and copies of his inventions, unable to perform to the ability of our models, pop up at every turn. Their failure then tarnishes the real truth of the product he sells. The scary part of the whole matter is the machinery we pedals deals in water. The promise is water when you want it. The competition say they can potentially do it but never actually seem to be able to make it happen.

 

The Water from Air machines of World Environmental Solutions do exactly what they say in the levels they are built to perform. Everyone who has them rave about them but its a continual grind to bring them to the world.

 

Tomorrow we will be back at it, rather than on the tranquillity of the river, at our desks or for both families on the road thereto.

 

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