Sadistic Old Man

[Pete from shields]

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"

LMFAO that's a cracking story mate made me smile that one lol.

[lingking]

glad you are enjoying your writing david,theres a lot of people enjoying reading it keep the stories coming

[jameswlong1941]

All our Yesterdays

Well Stores I was recouperating through your story when you were up at EYEMOUTH with the old man as you put it and i just could/nt stop laughing about it but going back in time the same sort of thing happened to me and like your dad said you had to have patience when you were out with pops and now i am getting to be like that old man ha-ha .good reading

[Stores]

The same year as the lobster incident, but on a freezing cold December evening, me and the Old Man were in the Slatey Gut for a session over low water.We stood motionless for a couple of hours until I got a stonking bite. I waited, waited, waited for it to come back but it never did so I pulled in, losing a hook in the process. Don't know how many of you can remember being a teenager and getting a bite while your dad stands statuesque but I can remember wanting to get the gear back in the water as quickly as possible. Problem was that our only light source was the RAC type hand lamp which only, obviously, points where you put it and I'd turned it on so that it pointed at our tupperware container of lugworm and the jar of mussel alongside it. Needing to tie a new snood and only having one spool in the basket I rummaged around in the dark only to run the back of my little finger along the gutting knife, strategically placed as a trap for small boys.

Being so cold there was limited pain, so little that I was still trying to attach 30 lb line to my 6'o hook when I noticed the steady flow of blood into the jar of mussel, turning the smelly liquid a much richer colour. My cry of pain was met with no response, so I staggered (might be exaggerating here lol) to the Old Man and showed him the life threatening injury.

His response was immediate as he endeavoured to preserve the life of his favourite son (might be lying here lol). "Follow me" he said. I expected the Red Cross to appear any second.......he sat me on the sewer pipe (now long gone) next to one of the inspection chambers that was full of sea water and plunged my little finger, the rest of my hand and half my forearm into the freezing water. "Let me know when you want to cast out again and I'll sort you out" was all he said and resumed his spot on the skeers.

I must have had my hand in that pool for 2 hours, so much so that there was no blood left in my hand when we left. He'd obviously been thinking about me, however, because as we were walking off the rocks he said "don't tell your mam - she won't let you come again if she thinks it's dangerous"

The Old Man worked on the buildings but he could have been the captain of England as a psychologist .................I've still got the scar.

[Charlton]

great stories David

[Davey1970]

good crack, keep them coming.

[bri reid]

The same year as the lobster incident, but on a freezing cold December evening, me and the Old Man were in the Slatey Gut for a session over low water.We stood motionless for a couple of hours until I got a stonking bite. I waited, waited, waited for it to come back but it never did so I pulled in, losing a hook in the process. Don't know how many of you can remember being a teenager and getting a bite while your dad stands statuesque but I can remember wanting to get the gear back in the water as quickly as possible. Problem was that our only light source was the RAC type hand lamp which only, obviously, points where you put it and I'd turned it on so that it pointed at our tupperware container of lugworm and the jar of mussel alongside it. Needing to tie a new snood and only having one spool in the basket I rummaged around in the dark only to run the back of my little finger along the gutting knife, strategically placed as a trap for small boys.

Being so cold there was limited pain, so little that I was still trying to attach 30 lb line to my 6'o hook when I noticed the steady flow of blood into the jar of mussel, turning the smelly liquid a much richer colour. My cry of pain was met with no response, so I staggered (might be exaggerating here lol) to the Old Man and showed him the life threatening injury.

His response was immediate as he endeavoured to preserve the life of his favourite son (might be lying here lol). "Follow me" he said. I expected the Red Cross to appear any second.......he sat me on the sewer pipe (now long gone) next to one of the inspection chambers that was full of sea water and plunged my little finger, the rest of my hand and half my forearm into the freezing water. "Let me know when you want to cast out again and I'll sort you out" was all he said and resumed his spot on the skeers.

I must have had my hand in that pool for 2 hours, so much so that there was no blood left in my hand when we left. He'd obviously been thinking about me, however, because as we were walking off the rocks he said "don't tell your mam - she won't let you come again if she thinks it's dangerous"

The Old Man worked on the buildings but he could have been the captain of England as a psychologist .................I've still got the scar.

Christ david thats some sense of humour your old man had. My dad was the same, Kinda made me a fast learner. Never made many mistakes twice.
Cheers Bri