FULTON’S FLOUNDER.

Otago Witness, Issue 3830, 9 August 1927, Page 81

FULTON’S FLOUNDER.

By

John Patrick.

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.) Jim Maclntyre, the blacksmith at Wharanui, was responsible for the whole thing. He was a quiet-spoken Scot, 52 years of age. a good-natured, happy-go-lucky kind of individual, who was dominated by a peculiar sense of humour, and who had. built up a great reputation as a designer of elaborate practical jokes. ♦ Jim had been looking for “a mug ’■ for a long time without success; but he knew the moment he set eves on Gerald Fulton that heaven had answered his prayers. Fulton was one of those delightful new chums who look the part to Perfection, and who go on doing it until thev have worn out the whole of the clothes thev have brought with them from homo. He was 30 years of age, was exceedingly well groomed, and was wearing baggy riding breeches and immaculate leggings.

Jim met him quite hv chance on the veranda of Keegan’s pub. “ Anv flounder spearing here?” Fulton Jnonircl. as he looked out at the sweep of glistening water forming the channel.

It was then that Jim got to work. “ No one ever goes flounder spearing here,’’ he said casually, as he puffed at his cherrvwood nine.

“ Why not’” Fulton opened, beginning to disnlav definite interest. If be had met anyone other than Jim he would probably have learned right nwav that, in spite of th-' apparently ideal •'••editions. not a sinode flounder had ever been seen in the vicinity of the Wharanui

channel. Jim Maclntyre, however, was not the kind of man who presented people with information of that sort. “ Only big flounders come in here,” Jim told'Fulton. Then Jim got a real bite. “ How big?” Fulton asked eagerly. “ Four and five feet long,” Jim said in a slightly-bored tone, as if the information was merely common, everyday news. “Four and five feet long?” Fulton gasped, his frank astonishment clearlv indicating that he had swallowed bait, hook, and line. “ I’ve seen them up to six feet,” Jim informed him, “ and they’re never less than four.” By this time the sporting instinct that is supposed to dwell in every Englishman's breast had been thoroughly aroused in Fulton. i “ Whv don't you go after them?” he demanded excitedly. “ Waste of time,” Jim said, between puffs from his pipe. Waste of time?” Fulton repeated in a puzzled manner. “Why waste of time?' “The tackle required is expensive,” Jirn told him, “ and the flounders are no good to eat.” “ What kind of tackle would vou need?” the entranced new chum inquired. “ A special spear, a big landing gaff, and a decent-sized punt,” were the articles Jim reckoned would be necessary. “ I'll have a go at those flounders,” Fulton declared excitedly. as he began to pace up and down. “ I’ll land one of them or eat my hat.” he added. Jim at this stage began to realise that it was about time he brought the chokmgoff procoss into operation. “ You’re only chance would be at dead low tide,” he remarked. Jim's reason for making that remark lay in the fact that the tide happened to be at the full. Fulton looked out at the wide expanse of water that was covering the whole of the channel. “When will the tide be right?” he asked. Jim considered for a moment, during which he did a little mental arithmetic in order to ascertain what the state of the tide would be in a week's time. “ Next Sunday afternoon would be suitable.” he said atfer a short silence. “And what about tackle?” Fulton inquired. “ I'll fix that,” Jim promised, as he adroitly steered his victim into the pub. “ pve got to »o into town for a week,” Fulton said, as they faced Keegan across the bar, “ but I’ll come out again next Sunday afternoon. I’ll onlv be able to spare a couple of hours, as I’ll be leaving for the north that night.: but I must have a go at those flounders.”

Jim winked at Keegan, and displayed an inclination to cling with the tenacity of an octopus to the subject of flounders. Did Keegan remember when an entirely mythical individual named Tompkins landed that six-foot specimen? Keegan admitted that he would never forget that particular flounder. Jim added that this monster had turned the scale at over 8001 b, and Keegan nodded in confirmation of the statement. Fulton, having been thus impressed, was allowed to depart. During the week Jim made a few neces-

sary preparations, which caused a lot of wild hilarity around the anvil in his shop and in Keegan’s bar. From a piece of inch steel he forged a single-pronged spear two feet long, which he" mounted on a 10foot pole as thick as a man’s wrist. The landing gaff, which he made to match the spear, had a hook lOin across and a pole capable of landing a voting whale. Roars of laughter greeted the appearance of these burlesque fishing implements when they

were placed on view in Keegar’s bar ; but the wildest howls of delight went up from the veranda when Jim had an old, flatbottomed punt, 12ft long and Bft wide, brought down from the upper reaches of the channel, and moored it in front of the pub. He had borrowed this from a man who used it for ferrying firewood across from the other side. Sunday was a beautifully warm, sunny day without a breath of wind, the conditions being idea] for flounder spearing. At, 2 o’clock the tide was dead low, as Jim had predicted : and there was- an expectant crowd on Keegan’s veranda. The news had spread that Jim was “ having a bit of a lark,” and everyone had turned out to see the fun. Fulton arrived just after 2 o’clock in a car which he had driven out from

town alone. Ho inspected the spear and gaff, had a look at the huge punt, and announced that he was ready to start.

It was then that Jim began openly to express doubts as to Fulton’s ability as a flounder spearer. He freely expressed the. opinion that it would be foolish of the new chum, with his extremely limited experience, to waste his time going after the famous Wharanui flounders. He’d never land one in a month of Sundays, let alone two short hours. “ I’ll bet I land one inside an hour,” Fulton said confidently, which was precisely what Jim had been angling for. “I’ll bet a tenner you don’t!” Jim snapped, with feigned contempt. “Done!” said Fulton. “Where’s your money?” Jim inquired sourly, but he was having great difficulty in keeping a. twinkle of supreme satisfaction out of his eves.. Fulton took two £•"> notes from a pocket book and handed them to Keegan.' “You hold the stakes.” he suggested. Then he turned to Jim. “Where’s yours ?” he asked. Jim promptly produced a £lO note and handed it to Keegan, who immediately stuffed the £2O into one of the pockets of his trousers. “ Now for it,” Fulton said hopefully, as he took the huge spear in one hand and the equally huge gaff in the other. Then he marched down to the water’s edge, stepped lightly on board, cast off the moorings, and poled the punt slowly

out into the centre of the channel. Having satisfied himself that he was in a likely spot, he carefully placed the gaff within easy reach, took up the spear, got into a comfortable position with his head and shoulders over one side of the punt, and began to search for flounders, lhe show was on, and everybody was enjoying it. Keegan, in liis shirt sleeves and with a broad grin on his face, was leaning against one side of the main entrance to the pub; most of the male population of Wharanui was seated on two wooden forms on the veranda in attitudes expresssive of sheer delight; and Jim AlTntyre was leaning against one of the posts, calmly smoking when he wasn’t giving vent to satisfied chuckles of pure joy. , Half an hour went by, during which I'ulton had worked the punt across towards the opposite side of the channel. In the process he had turned the unwieldy craft round so that he now faced the spectators. “Vi hat about handing over that 20 notes?” Jim asked, turning to Keegan. Keegan put his hand into one of his tiouser pockets to withdraw the money, but the next instant he had taken a sudden step forward and was gazing fixedly at the man in the punt. It was ex ident that I-ulton had seen His whole attitude plainly indicated that he was in a state of suppressed excitement. . He was carefully moving the punt, and his attention seemed to be definitely fixed on something in the channel. Suddenly he leaned slightly forward with his spear held in readiness to strike; then, after a momentary pause, he made a deliberate thrust in about four feet of water. The next instant he was on his knees, with his chest braced firmly against the side of the punt, as he gripped the spear with both hands in a frantic endeavour to hold it down. The spectators quickly realised that Fulton had speared something, for there was plenty of evidence to show that ; strinmie was going on, and. in addition, the smid was being churned up at the side of the P’" I *’. ail<] was discolouring the water. Within a couple of minutes everybody was down at tlie water's edge iJokiim exvr te i \ ° Ut across the channel. Jim u ‘ ac , ln^ vie ant } twe others jumped into a flat-bottomed boat that was handy am] began to puU towards Fulton. By the time they reached him he had succeeded in working his catch in shallow water alongside of the bank. Then before anyone could lend a hand. Fulton suddenly stood up, seized the gaff in his right hand, hocked it with a sudden, vicious jerk into whatever it was he had on the spear, sprang out into the water. ; winch was haidly up to his knees, and began to haul something ashore. As the , three men grounded their boat he suc- ; ceeded in pulling out on to the sand a , huge, flat, flounder-like fish about sft • long and 4ft across.

M hat on earth's that?” Jim asked, as he gazed in astonishment at tlie monster. Looks like a flounder,” Fulton said breathlessly. rm'y lowed it across the channel, and all hands helped to net it ashore, and to hang it up at one end of Keegan’s veranda. Its snout was against the spoutmg, and its short tail was touching the fiOGr.

‘lhats not a real flounder,” Maclntyre protested. It s a W naranui flounder, and that’s good enough,” Keegan declared, as he handed the notes over to Fulton. “ Drinks all round, then I must be off.” I’ulton said, as he looked proudly at tlie gigantic fish. 1 d never have believed it if 1 hadn’t seen it,” he said, with a happy grin as he turned away. lhe next afternoon a meek and bearded expert from the museum in town stood on Keegan’s veranda looking critically at Fulton’s flounder.

A very fine specimen of a very rare fish,” he announced for the benefit of the inquisitive crowd that bad gathered to learn his verdict.

“ But what is it?” Jim Maclntyre asked impatiently.

The expeit stroked his beard, and beamed at Jim over the top of a pair of born-rimmed spectacles. “ A sun fish,” he answered, plus some Latin, which Jim didn’t understand, but which he earnestly hoped was the equivalent of a curse.