From: Peter

Work was done by 6 o'clock on a Friday,
And 9 guys headed east on the Princes Highway.
Ahead lay a weekend of non-stop fishing,
Something for which we'd all been wishing,
Non-stop action til late on the Sunday.

Next morning we all got up early,
And began to set up our tackle and berley.
The weather was looking warm and clear,
So to the beach we carried our gear,
While the fishing tales were getting real curly.

On sandworm many mullet were taken
The rod tips were movin' and shakin'
On bluebait a few big salmon as well,
The buckets were getting as heavy as Hell,
These 9 guys were really bringing home the bacon!

That Saturday night there was a great feast,
For each man ate three fish at least.
Along with chips, dips and drink,
We barely slept more than a wink,
Once all the joking and laughing had ceased.

By Sunday morning our number was 4,
5 guys left behind to continue to snore.
To catch another feed, our simple wish,
Returning home with a selection of fish,
After a fishing session of hookups galore.

Our wish came true, the fish went mad,
We returned to the cars, a good day was had.
We'll be back some day, that's for sure,
To tangle with those fighting fish once more.

(16 April 2003)