Some antics with Mr Scott…!

Now Mr Scott has been a friend of mine for decades, and like myself, this friend has way too much character for ones own good so to speak..!

This particular true story all started one very hot summers day around lunch time, when I happened to stop for lunch in my work truck on the side of the road under a lovely cool overhanging willow tree, and after consuming my delicious lunch decided to have a wee nap..!. now its common knowledge for those who know me, to know that I do like a short nap most days at mid day ..

Now whilst I was in the “land of nod” so to speak this day, Mr Scott happened to be passing and seeing the old fart head back , mouth open catching flies couldnt resist a small stir..!

What he did was drive past a hundred metres or so , so as not to wake me, then stopped and grabbed a shovel off the back of his truck and sneaked up to the back of my truck, raised his shovel above his head and with a MIGHTY BANG wacked said shovel onto my steel truck deck…!

Instantly waking, giving me one heck of a fright I looked around to see which part of my world had collapsed, to find at the back of my truck Mr Scott with a very wide cheesy smile saying… good morning Mr Stead  this is your morning alarm.. now how bout getting back to work…hmmmm… I thought to myself this will keep..!

Rolling this story forward a number of months later, Mr Scott rang me one evening inviting me to a few days trout fishing over on the West Coast, Yes sure would love to was my reply, so a date was set and having loaded all the fishing gear and beers for the duration, hooked my 12 foot aluminum dinghy and trailer onto Mr Scotts vehicle and off we went…

Of course we needed to stop at almost every pub for a quiet one on the journey over the hill to discuss fishing tactics etc etc, and duly arrived at the Moana Motels just on night fall..

During the course of our first night we started to hear the “pitta patta” of rain on the motel roof, then to find next morning it was persisting down, however being hardy soles keen to get amongst those whopper sized trout that we had heard about in one of the pubs along the way over, headed a little way up the road this early morning towards Stillwater where I knew an area we could sneak the boat under a very low railway bridge about a metre high and follow this small stream through the thick over hanging willows and out onto the Arnold river just upstream from the Arnold river dam..

Bearing in mind this morning that it was still raining heavily, one of the first problems Mr Scott encountered was a simple oversight whilst packing his fishing gear for the trip was he had forgotten to bring any wet weather coat, hat, leggings or gumboots

So, here we were, me at the blunt end of the boat all decked out in wet weather gear complete with gumboots, nice and dry about to start fishing, meanwhile, Mr Scott seated at the sharp end with just his swanny wind jacket and sneakers on his feet, soaking wet but undeterred.

By now the rain was incessantly heavy with raindrops actually bouncing off the river water and rising up some four inches all around us and with this came the next issue we found ourselves having to deal with…. the boat was filling up fast, requiring firstly me the grab the cut down milk bottle bailer and start dewatering the dinghy, infact this morning this became a fairly constant job to avoid us taking on submarine like features… I looked down to see Mr Scotts shoes he was wearing below the water level and couldnt help laughing… but alas as we all know good things dont last…Mr Scott waited until I had resumed fishing , grabbed the bailer and with the first scoop tipped it down one of my gumboots…. I just thought you might have been getting too hot was his humorist comment.

We did catch a number of fish that morning as we drifted slowly towards the dam site , where either side of the river had steep rocky sides with the occasional scrubby bush hanging precariously from the near vertical rock walls..

The inclement weather didnt stop either of us cracking open a beer or two as we fished, when all of a sudden Mr Scott in his overzealous casting out found that his line and lure ended up entangled in one of the scrubby bushes about 4 metres above the river so ask me to start the motor and nudge the boat up against the rock wall to see him standing up on the small front covered area of the boat, holding his rod high trying to flick the lure free but alas it was stubbornly held fast.. he then lifted one leg and wedged his foot on a tiny two inch horizontal ledge, grabbed an adjacent bush and pulled himself up higher to try and unhook said lure, meanwhile as his foot left the boat I quietly slipped the boat motor into reverse and back off leaving him teetering and clinging for dear life, whilst yelling obscenities at the “Captain”…

Now Mr Scott…….! I want you to firstly apologize to me for that time you wacked your shovel on the deck of my truck waking me from my beautiful sleep………..!  yes yes I appoligise…..came his utterance…. that not sincere enough Mr Scott.. laughing….. get that bloody boat back here will you….!no. not yet…. also I want you to sincerely apologize for pouring water into my gumboot…. yes yes I appoligise Mr Stead….. ok then thank you Mr Scott.. I accept your remorseful replies, and shifted the motor into forward gear to resume the stance against the wall… a certain amount of utterances, could be heard from the sharp end but I chose to ignore it all and resumed fishing… Mr Scott had little choice but to cut his line and start again….

But he did get a small amount of revenge later that day when we were all loaded and ready to head back to the motel, I made a silly mistake of hopping out of the vehicle to undo the boats bung letting the remaining water out , to hear Mr Scott drive off leaving me stranded… he stopped fifty metres up the road and yelled to me…. Mr Stead, can I get an apology , and a sincere one at that for leaving me stranded earlier….!!!!!   Yes of course Mr Scott…!

And for those who may now be wondering.. yes we are still great mates..!