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not quite fishy
Tue, 10 Jan 2006 17:28:58 GMT alt.fiftyplus
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gruffydd...
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Since Jakes [hello there!] likes fisherman stories I thought he might like
to hear this one. It is not actually about catching fish, and you will see why. It happened in the family, by the way. I had a G/Grandad who was very much into poaching, anything. if it flew,walked or swam, it was his. The Bailiff on the local Estate knew what he was up to, so did the village Policeman, but despite many attempts, with ever more elaborate traps, they never caught him. some very close shaves though. So G/Grada decided to get some normality to his life, as he thought he was getting 'too old for this' So he went down to the stretch of river where the best salmon were known to be, having dropped a few hints around. He had all his fishing tackle, the rod, creel, keep nets, tackle box, everything. Having kept his eyes open he had seen signs of the bailiff, his assistants, and the Police hanging about. The best place for them to observe him was such that they could see only his top half, so whilst they could see him bend down they could not see what he was doing, but they could hear any splashing sounds he made. So, the stage was set. over a couple of hours, they saw him 'cast', then reel in, bend down to pickup the keep net, then cast again. When they pounced he went through the motions, casting his keep net into the middle of the river where the current took it away. The police and the bailiff picked up all his tackle and marched him of, telling him he was going to get the book thrown at him, hard. In front of the Magistrate, they told the tale, and of course, things looked black for him. Then came his turn, when he asked if the Police still had his tackle/ Yes, they had. He said he trusted that it had not been tampered with? No, it is exactly as it was when we caught you with it. So, he said, produce it, and show it to the magistrate. when they did the Mag himself confirmed that they had not played about with the evidence. So, then G/Grandad pointed out there not only was there no reel, there was no line, therefore no hook. All there was in the tackle box was a couple of beers and sandwiches, and he said that he was having a picnic there, using the keep net to cool the beer. The upshot was that he was more or less immune afterwards, just so long he was not too barefaced about it. Jean B....
Yoj...
Yoj...
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