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As a 13 year old, on holiday in Eyemouth, me and the old man went fishing at Yellow Craig, south of Coldingham (Deep Gut, if you know it). We'd been fishing a while when the old man called me over....
"Come and look at this" he whispered.
I crept over and in one of the beautifully pristine pools, sitting on a flat rock, in about 6 feet of water, was a lobster which looked about 4lb to me (I knew a bit about lobsters, well wiggies anyway, as the old man had taken me to the top of Cullercoats Harbour, Briar Dene et al with his stick and loop and I'd caught one or two).
"You'll never get him out" he said "unless.............you sit still, in silence, and stare at him. He can see you and, after a while, he'll become transfixed with your shape and swim up to investigate. You'll have to be quick though because as soon as you move, he'll be off....you'll only get one chance"
Challenge accepted I sat there, looking at this magnificent specimen while the old man went back to fishing. Every now and then he'd quietly call "Any movement yet?" I'd shake my head unable to tear away from staring the lobster out. This went on for what seemed to me to be hours. I marvelled at the lobsters ability to restrain itself from rising to explore my shadow but this only increased my determination to win "our duel"
From nowhere I was aware of being struck on the back of the head by something hard but wet before the pool exploded into life. The old man had caught a dirty black codling and, as it was time for tea, and he had tired of his game he'd winged it at me and having hit me it went over my head into the pool where it dived for the bottom.
On examining the clearing water the lobster had gone, to be replaced with millions of shell fragments, slowly sinking to the bottom. The lobster had not been a real one but a cast from one that had obviously peeled in the night and the old man had taken great delight in watching me watching it while thinking it was watching me. Oh, how he laughed as we trudged back over the bank top. "I tell you what" he said, "You've got some patience, you"
"No bloody sense mind you"
"Come and look at this" he whispered.
I crept over and in one of the beautifully pristine pools, sitting on a flat rock, in about 6 feet of water, was a lobster which looked about 4lb to me (I knew a bit about lobsters, well wiggies anyway, as the old man had taken me to the top of Cullercoats Harbour, Briar Dene et al with his stick and loop and I'd caught one or two).
"You'll never get him out" he said "unless.............you sit still, in silence, and stare at him. He can see you and, after a while, he'll become transfixed with your shape and swim up to investigate. You'll have to be quick though because as soon as you move, he'll be off....you'll only get one chance"
Challenge accepted I sat there, looking at this magnificent specimen while the old man went back to fishing. Every now and then he'd quietly call "Any movement yet?" I'd shake my head unable to tear away from staring the lobster out. This went on for what seemed to me to be hours. I marvelled at the lobsters ability to restrain itself from rising to explore my shadow but this only increased my determination to win "our duel"
From nowhere I was aware of being struck on the back of the head by something hard but wet before the pool exploded into life. The old man had caught a dirty black codling and, as it was time for tea, and he had tired of his game he'd winged it at me and having hit me it went over my head into the pool where it dived for the bottom.
On examining the clearing water the lobster had gone, to be replaced with millions of shell fragments, slowly sinking to the bottom. The lobster had not been a real one but a cast from one that had obviously peeled in the night and the old man had taken great delight in watching me watching it while thinking it was watching me. Oh, how he laughed as we trudged back over the bank top. "I tell you what" he said, "You've got some patience, you"
"No bloody sense mind you"
.
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