EELING

Waimarino Bulletin, Volume 6, Issue 262, 8 November 1988, Page 13

EELING

We crept silently down the mossy track dodging green pine trees and whispering quietly to ourselves. "Shall I turn the torch on Rachel?" "Sure." I tumed the torch on and the brilliantly bright light shone among the long sloping branches. Dust danced in the light and lead us down to the small trickling creek. A trigger of excitement rocketed down my spine, as this was my first time eeling, and boy was I excited. "Come on," said Rachel impatiently. She had plenty of experience of eeling, and seemed almost bored about the whole experience. "We have to set the line and come back later to check and watch it okay?" "Okay", we set the line in a lovely deep, murky hole not far from a submerged log. A very nice place to catch an eel. As we lurched down the track again, this time I felt as if Rachel was at least a little bit anxious and excited. She flashed the light into the dim water but all we saw was the thin line with the hook on the end with no bait. "That's the doing of the craftiest eel in the stream" said a voice. It was Rachel's father. "He's an old eel now but he's had a lot of experience." Next time we won't let him out of his hole we will make a net. So we walked home fully engrossed in discussing what our plan would bc next time.

by

Katrina

Wilson