'I'm going to catch a fish today', said Rick in his Lancashire brogue. Rick, a man not to messed with at the best of times, a man who, for a living, absails down oil rigs carrying out safety checks, growling as he does so at the elephant seals sometimes gathered at the bottom awaiting the odd Health & Safety cock-up.
Out went the line with a brightly coloured lure, 10 yards - not enough, 30 yards should do it. Just before dusk he yelled, he shouted, he jumped for joy, 'I've got one, it's a big one, it's fish for dinner'.
He reeled it in bit by bit and before we know it a Dorado of good size is bleeding all over the back of the boat. 'Oh poor thing', yells one 'Whack it', yells another 'bash it oer t'hed' says Steve as he passed him the winch handle.
'I can't see myself killing it' says Rick 'Maybe I should just let it bleed to death or watch it suffocate or even both'.
The crew looked at him agog, this was tough Rick, hard Rick, the man tasked with crushing water bottles with one hand, he couldn't kill the fish.
Rick gently removed the hook from the fish and let it go. 'How is it?' said Skipper 'Oh it's seen better days' said Rick as the fish turned upside down and drifted way.
'Right' said Rick 'I'm going to have another go'. He lets out his line, 10 yards, 30 yards and then...nothing. He'd forgotten to tie his line onto his reel 'It's pasta for dinner' he said.
'I will not be defeated' said Rick as he laid out his tools for the job, line, reel, lure, rubber gloves and weights oh, and a fish coffin in which he will place his fish and watch it die.
Two days later and we hear the cry 'I've got one and it's a feisty one at that'. We watch the brightly coloured fish bounce along the waves pulling and tugging and we watch Rick bouncing round the cockpit pulling and tugging. The anticipation is too much, our hearts are in our mouths, we hold our breath with fish coffin at the ready and then....nothing. 'Hard little bugger that' says Rick 'wouldn't like to tackle that on a dark night in Blackburn' as the fish swam away over the crest of a wave.
As I write this blog, hard Rick, ever the trier, has two lines out with an assortment of lures, weights, Spam and Chopped Pork.
There are two morals to this true fishy tale one, if you ever find yourself in a fishing competition and come up against Rick - celebrate early and two, if you absail down an oil rig for a living and come up against Rick - tie your own knots!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Written by Beverley with kind permission of Rick