freeline-106 - Flipbook - Page 193
MITCH HAMMONDS
MEMORIES
After hooking and landing my last fish from the small
b a y, I r e t u r n e d t h e f o l l o w i n g w e e k t o s o m e w h a t d i f f e r e n t
conditions. Huge southwesterly winds were battering into
t h e b a y, a n d t h e a i r p r e s s u r e w a s o n a c o n s t a n t d r o p f o r
the next couple of evenings. I fancied my chances again in
this swim, as the conditions could not have been better;
the perfect big pit storm was brewing up, and I was right
i n t h e t h i c k o f i t . A l t h o u g h e x t r e m e l y w i n d y, t h e f i r s t n i g h t
drew a blank. My brolly was ripped from the pegs, the ribs
had been shattered, and I’d had a sleepless night, but I
returned keen as mustard after work the following evening.
D o g l e a d s , b a g s a n d a ny t h i n g e l s e I h a d i n my va n wa s
c h u c ke d o n t h e b a r ro w t o h e l p p i n t h e b ro l ly b a c k d o w n . I
eve n t o o k t h e l u m p h a m m e r t o s m a s h t h e p e g s i n . T h e w i n d s
g re w s t ro n g e r t h a n t h e n i g h t b e fo re , e ve n r i p p i n g t h e ro o t s
FR E ELINE 6 1
