17th Trip
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17th Trip
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We tried a new Charter company for the 17th
FISH trip. Andrew Horne was the skipper of the “Strait Shooter” owned by
Proline Fishing Charters who provided us with a very enjoyable trip. 10 of the
crew played golf on the Friday on the way down at Rosebud Country Club and with
November 16th being a 30◦ C day, it was soon decided
that Ambrose Best Ball 4 ball was the way to go. The very worthy winners with 5
under par were Plugga, Frog and those two Rosebud Rogues; Billy & Larry.
Pete had a shocker by his lofty standards and his group used most of Clive’s
tee shots. We were joined for after match refreshments at the course by Dasha
& Barnesy. After a few cleansers we made our way to the Portsea Pub. Our accommodation was basically two beds
and a dresser. This is ample because most of us only ever spend a maximum of 5
hours sleeping on these trips anyway. This year we had three very welcome
debutants; Graham Cutting , Victor “Irish” Conroy and Adrian Brown. Trying
to find a pub car park became a priority in which Peter Adam’s toiletry bag
became a casualty of Jed’s Land Cruiser. Oozing out of the ‘case of
carnage’ was Pete’s hair mousse, shaving gel, bath oil, night moisturiser,
mascara and exfoliation crème which were all mixed in with his Lady Remington
and a really large face washer. As
a result his comb had most of its teeth smashed out of it, which in effect only
customised it for Pete’s hair. We settled in for some punting, some
pool and relieving our hosts of some of their finest draught. During our dinner
in the beer garden, Barnesy decided that some Aeroguard was necessary to relieve
the annoyance of the numerous flies surrounding us and our food. He managed not
only to spray himself but the majority of the spray that missed his ample frame
settled straight on Pete’s Parma and in his Pot. Pete was having the day from
hell, and Barnesy was showing signs of what was to come. After
stumps Barnesy decided to start his own impromptu Disco in the car park called
Jags. He wound down the window of the car, put his stereo on full and began
generously handing out icy cold VB’s from his rear seat Eskie. We were quickly
joined by a load of Sydneysiders who were down for conference, couldn’t get a
cab to Sorrento and sniffed a free beer. At
about 2:30am the disco action stopped when Barnesy’s car battery finally went
flat. The only problem was, his back window was still down and could not close
and he wanted to protect his very much beloved Jag. Barnesy had a very inventive
solution; he’d sleep in his car. At 5:00am with no-one around, he decided to
come up to his room and his room mate Clive couldn’t be woken from his boozy
slumber. Eventually Barnesy found his way to Jed and Carra’s room and woke
them up. He managed to worm his way into Jed’s bed and slipped off into heavy
snoring sleep with his malformed toes with their grotesque toe-nails sticking
into a sleepless Jed’s face, for the next 2 hours. At 7:00am a sumptuous breakfast was being served downstairs. The boy’s took full advantage of the buffet. It was the best brekkie ever eaten before a FISH trip, even Laddy wouldn’t have been disappointed with the eggs. Toad had his usual seven serves. Dasha handed out our new apparel, FISH shorts and FISH spray jacket; a fantastic product from ProCorp, (which will no doubt prove to be one of those timeless classics, eagerly sought by the most discerning of fishermen). Most of us made our way to Sorrento Pier
crammed into the Venga Bus (it can hold 14 and a surfboard, see
Trip 15) and were introduced to our Skipper Andrew who immediately made us
feel at home by hanging some shit on us all. We made our way through the Port
Phillip heads to Bass Strait and Bryce cracked the traditional first stubby at
8:30am. He was soon joined by several others. Barnesy’s Eskie was full of
broken glass after some misfortune on the way down the cement stairs leading
from the car park to the pier. There were some early signs that Barnesy was
going to poll well in the NAFA votes. The fishing was pretty good, we trolled for some salmon and Barnesy picked up a good one straight away. He then proceeded to loudly advise everyone else how to catch them. He was racking up NAFA points. Obviously Bryce wasn’t listening as he dropped two salmon close to the boat and suddenly imposed himself as the new favourite for the NAFA. We probably landed another 8 salmon of
various sizes from 8:30 – 9:30am before drifting for some reef fish. Jed
pulled up a good sized Leather Jacket; this was eventually topped by Darren and
then the big Plugga. We caught wrasse, perch, couta and more leather jackets. This was the first trip in memory when
we didn’t get a Flathead, although Plugga would have had one very flat
head if Barnesy’s out of control sinker had have hit him. This priceless
act, along with some entanglements saw Barnesy slowly wrestle the NAFA from
Bryce’s grip. He was obviously impressing Captain Andrew with his all-round
NAFAtism who had no hesitation in awarding him the mounted half fish trophy by
trip’s end. This trip was also the first that any one has caught a mutton-bird. Irish stunned the FISH crew by hooking his avian catch with a piece of squid. We had to explain to the poor wee lad that fish have scales and gills whilst birds have feathers and lungs. Once he sorted that out he was fine. About 10:30am we saw the first vomiter,
when the Frog purged his brekkie (we were later to find out that this was
sympathetic morning sickness for his 12 week pregnant wife the lovely Lisa, see
Trip 9). This was quickly followed by Jed who was now a shade of Kermit
Green and purged a week’s worth of brekkies as well as one of Barnesy’s
toenails. This was poetic justice for Jed who had spent years hanging it on the
many crew who had met similar fates over the years. Too their credit, both of
the lads kept fishing and adding to the bulging creel. After 5 hours we made our
way back to Sorrento and straight to the Pub, where beers were drunk, the
cricket watched and horses backed. Thanks very much to Marg Bowler who took our
freshly cleaned catch home to Rosebud and put it on ice to be collected on the
way home. Adrian Brown joined the
tour and Bryce and the two Rosebud Rogues said their farewells. Two waves of boys were taken home to Porstsea by Plugga driving the Venga Bus. The afternoon session merged into the evening session, which moved into a full blown night session. The many weddings held there that night provided the boys with some highlights. Carra was pulling the women and using Victor’s Irish accent to his advantage. Victor was soon heard to say in his inimitable way “Fooking ‘ell, they’re getting bigger” as he was introduced to large lass followed by even larger lass. Carra’s devilish plan is to talk to the fatties and the slimmer ladies come over because they don’t like their chubby mate grabbing the spotlight. It’s ingenious!! Debutant Adrian Brown was putting on a
bourbon clinic and it wasn’t long before the he had most of the pub singing
“Wonder wall”. We were joined by a long haired beardy bloke who was
immediately dubbed “Singing Jesus” who had obviously been smoking the odd
Puffer Fish or two and thought that he would audition by belting out an album of
tunes for us. Eventually Singing Jesus was taken away by the very good natured
security people after performing an illegal piano solo. Peter Adam’s was
working wonders as a relationship counsellor for some young ladies after
removing himself from a stool that he had occupied non-stop for 7 hours, (when
he got up his none too insubstantial arse had actually grown around it). The
night almost ended badly when Carra decided to tell an Edward Platt look-a-like
that he was image of the Chief from Maxwell Smart. This Chief was almost Mafioso
in appearance and had an entourage of minders and women in his party. There were
a few tense minutes before the ice was broken when one of the chicks finally
laughed and agreed that he did in fact look like the Chief. Neither he nor his
minder seemed to take too kindly to Carra but at least no-one got whacked or
woke with a horse’s head in their bed next morning (not that one could have
fitted into the room) We again feasted on the buffet
breakfast. Presentations to the worthy trophy winners were made. After which we
finally found the Jag’s battery (in the boot!!) and managed to jump start it
for the 2 hour trip home via Plugga’s refrigerator. Pete went for a surf and
his weekend ended up much better than it began. Thanks to Andrew Henderson for
allowing us to stay at the Portsea Pub for such a great rate and to all the
attendees for making the 17th FISH trip a memorable and enjoyable
one. Until next year, tight lines and yibbidah yibbidah. |