Some like to fish and there are many ways of pursuing the pastime/sport. Some like to focus on a particular species of fish, others are content to take what bites. A few will go to sea and seek out game fish. They like the challenge of hauling in a giant Tuna or Shark or whatever the choice may be.
Wilf belonged to the Salmon fishing fraternity. Though that is not the strict truth, he went alone. He would get upset if another turned up on ‘his’ stretch of water, so 'fraternity' did not enter into it. The Country of Wales was his preferred area and he rented a site where he kept his caravans, which was another of his passions. The second caravan was something he was restoring. These things took time and it was (to him) a labour of love; To others it was a botch job at best, simply because he would use whatever materials came to hand. The outside of the ‘van had, over the years, been patched with tin cans that he would split open and flatten out before using his pop-rivet gun to place them. Spray paint was anathema to him. A large brush and a tin of Dulux was his preferred method.
That Wales was a six hour drive away from where he lived did not deter him and, on his days off and for the holidays he was entitled to, he would drive overnight or leave early morning if he had been on the night shift. To most people the drive was only three hours using the motorway but Wilf serviced his own car and it was in similar condition to the caravan that he had spent so long restoring. Therefore, motorways were out and slow driving with frequent stops to fill the radiator, along A & B roads was his idea of heaven.
We dreaded the return of Wilf from his holidays or weekend excursions because we all knew what we would get when any of us drew the short straw and shared a shift with him – Tales of his exploits and nothing more. Being a slow talker with a slight accent, he was himself Welsh, which explained his passion for the place, he would tell anyone, anywhere, at anytime that he liked to fish and explain that there was no finer way to spend a day. When Doctors came to ask for keys – they Had to be told. A visitor looking for directions? They needed to be informed. A nurse looking for post? They would often be seen recoiling in horror as Wilf would talk AT them whilst he searched through the letters and parcels. Wilf, in his way was a bore, a twaddler, a tiresome individual.
Nevertheless, Wilf could fish; he had told us this on many an occasion and one day he proved it.
The ITU (Intensive Therapy Unit) held a fundraising day every year. They would push a bed around the town and the Nurses and Doctors (all in full uniform) would shake plastic buckets under the noses of the townsfolk and beg for money on the premise that you never know when the services of ITU might be needed… It is a very successful way of money-raising and over the years has bought many benefits to the Department. They would sell raffle tickets to as many as they could and relied on local stores and business to provide prizes. Wilf donated a catch he had made. The donation to the raffle was a simple act and something that he could talk about for years to come. As a prize, anyone would welcome a heavyweight salmon. It did look very tasty..
Wilf related (many times) about how It had put up a fight and, upon seeing the size of the fish I could well believe it; It was a giant! I had to endure the tale more than once because we shared the Saturday morning shift. Many others heard it that day and, as I was in his company, I heard it over and over.. Once the Salmon had been landed he had run back to the house nearby and after gutting and preparing it, dropped it in the freezer that belonged to the Landowner. For the journey home he had filled a large plastic container with ice and placed the fish on top and then covered it with more ice. As soon as he got home (he had driven non-stop) he had placed it into yet another freezer… Which is where I had seen the monster fish.
From time to time Porters are asked to do, shall we say… ‘unusual’ things. Things that on the face of it are clear cut, but the properties of the items in question are sometimes not the sort of thing that sits easy on the mind if one cares to dwell on it for any length of time.
The request was reasonable enough – Could I take an item from Theatre and deposit it in the freezer in the Path Lab? – Simple enough and it took only a few minutes to perform said task. The item in question was a section of bowel from a poor unfortunate who had cancer. It is often the case that sections of tissue are removed and put aside for investigation at a later date. Research is always ongoing and visible evidence that is available for study can be beneficial.
I took the small plastic container and wandered down to the Lab. Normal specimens of blood are put into a smaller fridge beside the reception. Items of an historical nature needed lower temperatures for fast-freeze so I bypassed the reception and made my way down into the labyrinthine set of Histology Labs. There, right at the back sat the enormous, green chest-freezer. It had a big chrome handle to open and close it and I had to give the lid a hefty heave to overcome the seal on the lid. Eventually it popped open with a sigh as cold air escaped..
And there it lay. The scales glistening through the plastic bag in which it had been placed, the one visible eye staring vacantly. The freezer was five feet long and the fish left only 18inches or so room!
Just how the winner of the raffle would feel if he or she knew how the leviathan had spent its time amidst a jumble of plastic containers filled with a range of human parts all neatly labelled to show their history is a question that (hopefully) will never have to be answered.
Wilf belonged to the Salmon fishing fraternity. Though that is not the strict truth, he went alone. He would get upset if another turned up on ‘his’ stretch of water, so 'fraternity' did not enter into it. The Country of Wales was his preferred area and he rented a site where he kept his caravans, which was another of his passions. The second caravan was something he was restoring. These things took time and it was (to him) a labour of love; To others it was a botch job at best, simply because he would use whatever materials came to hand. The outside of the ‘van had, over the years, been patched with tin cans that he would split open and flatten out before using his pop-rivet gun to place them. Spray paint was anathema to him. A large brush and a tin of Dulux was his preferred method.
That Wales was a six hour drive away from where he lived did not deter him and, on his days off and for the holidays he was entitled to, he would drive overnight or leave early morning if he had been on the night shift. To most people the drive was only three hours using the motorway but Wilf serviced his own car and it was in similar condition to the caravan that he had spent so long restoring. Therefore, motorways were out and slow driving with frequent stops to fill the radiator, along A & B roads was his idea of heaven.
We dreaded the return of Wilf from his holidays or weekend excursions because we all knew what we would get when any of us drew the short straw and shared a shift with him – Tales of his exploits and nothing more. Being a slow talker with a slight accent, he was himself Welsh, which explained his passion for the place, he would tell anyone, anywhere, at anytime that he liked to fish and explain that there was no finer way to spend a day. When Doctors came to ask for keys – they Had to be told. A visitor looking for directions? They needed to be informed. A nurse looking for post? They would often be seen recoiling in horror as Wilf would talk AT them whilst he searched through the letters and parcels. Wilf, in his way was a bore, a twaddler, a tiresome individual.
Nevertheless, Wilf could fish; he had told us this on many an occasion and one day he proved it.
The ITU (Intensive Therapy Unit) held a fundraising day every year. They would push a bed around the town and the Nurses and Doctors (all in full uniform) would shake plastic buckets under the noses of the townsfolk and beg for money on the premise that you never know when the services of ITU might be needed… It is a very successful way of money-raising and over the years has bought many benefits to the Department. They would sell raffle tickets to as many as they could and relied on local stores and business to provide prizes. Wilf donated a catch he had made. The donation to the raffle was a simple act and something that he could talk about for years to come. As a prize, anyone would welcome a heavyweight salmon. It did look very tasty..
Wilf related (many times) about how It had put up a fight and, upon seeing the size of the fish I could well believe it; It was a giant! I had to endure the tale more than once because we shared the Saturday morning shift. Many others heard it that day and, as I was in his company, I heard it over and over.. Once the Salmon had been landed he had run back to the house nearby and after gutting and preparing it, dropped it in the freezer that belonged to the Landowner. For the journey home he had filled a large plastic container with ice and placed the fish on top and then covered it with more ice. As soon as he got home (he had driven non-stop) he had placed it into yet another freezer… Which is where I had seen the monster fish.
From time to time Porters are asked to do, shall we say… ‘unusual’ things. Things that on the face of it are clear cut, but the properties of the items in question are sometimes not the sort of thing that sits easy on the mind if one cares to dwell on it for any length of time.
The request was reasonable enough – Could I take an item from Theatre and deposit it in the freezer in the Path Lab? – Simple enough and it took only a few minutes to perform said task. The item in question was a section of bowel from a poor unfortunate who had cancer. It is often the case that sections of tissue are removed and put aside for investigation at a later date. Research is always ongoing and visible evidence that is available for study can be beneficial.
I took the small plastic container and wandered down to the Lab. Normal specimens of blood are put into a smaller fridge beside the reception. Items of an historical nature needed lower temperatures for fast-freeze so I bypassed the reception and made my way down into the labyrinthine set of Histology Labs. There, right at the back sat the enormous, green chest-freezer. It had a big chrome handle to open and close it and I had to give the lid a hefty heave to overcome the seal on the lid. Eventually it popped open with a sigh as cold air escaped..
And there it lay. The scales glistening through the plastic bag in which it had been placed, the one visible eye staring vacantly. The freezer was five feet long and the fish left only 18inches or so room!
Just how the winner of the raffle would feel if he or she knew how the leviathan had spent its time amidst a jumble of plastic containers filled with a range of human parts all neatly labelled to show their history is a question that (hopefully) will never have to be answered.
1 comment:
lol. Fish stories, oh yes, I have heard many. Hazard of working near a lake. Karl is a fisherman and for being quiet and patient in a boat he can sure talk my ears off about fishing.
good stuff.
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