I’m certainly no fisherwoman but when my elderly neighbour, Jim, offered to take me out on the inlet to go fishing I keenly accepted.

Jim hadn’t told me what to bring so I borrowed the full range of fishing gear from friends so I’d be properly prepared. I had rods and reels, bait and burley and my gear quickly cluttered up the bottom of the boat. Jim by contrast had only a hand line and bucket and told me his bait was “still breathing”, referring to the mussels growing on an old crate he kept submerged in the water nearby.

Soon we were out on the inlet dropping in our lines and, as the morning sun began to warm my back, I asked Jim all manner of conversation-starter questions…

Did his dinghy have a name?

No, but he certainly called it a few things when the motor failed to start.

Did he design the boat’s unusual seat he was sitting on?

Yes, it was made from an outdoor plastic chair that was attached to the boat using an old Victor lawn-mower wheel to enable the seat to swivel.

Finally when my questions stopped, Jim’s stories started…

There was the one about fishing with workmates one winter’s day after a generous quantity of “fishing-lubricant” (beer) had been consumed. Not surprisingly one of Jim’s mates fell overboard but of definite surprise was that the guy’s false teeth fell out in the process. It must have been a hilarious sight seeing a boatload of beer-filled blokes diving into freezing water in search of lost teeth. And did they find them? Unfortunately, no.

Then there was the story of how he saved his daughter’s dog after it’d been bitten by a snake. As the family lived out of town Jim had to pucker up for the kiss-of-life to give the pooch mouth-to-mouth resuscitation in the back seat of the car while his wife frantically drove to the vet. And did the dog survive? To everyone’s amazement, yes.

Another of Jim’s classic tales highlighted sibling-safety as he told me of how, as a youngster, he’d hooked his little sister by the cheek while casting his line (ouch). Parental assistance was definitely needed so Jim put his sister on the back of his bike – hook still in her cheek – and rode the many miles back home so the hook could be carefully removed.

Jim also told me about how important fishing had been during the Great Depression and how a free fish dinner was a meal for survival rather than a gastronomic treat. I learnt too that fishing is the most popular sport in the world and that more than four million Australians head to the water every year to drop in a line.

As our conversation continued Jim pulled in fish after fish while my line sat slack and dormant off the side of the boat and after several hours of laughter and tales we headed back to shore where my son was waiting for a fresh fish feast.

“How was the fishing?” my son asked, as I stepped out of the boat.

“Great!” I replied beaming.

“What did you catch?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing! But you said the fishing was great.” 

“It was,” I said, smiling and remembering something else Jim had told me. “Didn’t you know… fishing is the bit you do between catching fish.”