Spike+Goes+Fishing

__Spike Goes Fishing__

Spike had heard about fishing. He thought that it might be fun. He started to nag Mr du. Mr du knew that Spike was not patient. He did not think that Spike would like fishing. At last he gave in.

It was a lovely Saturday morning. ‘Why not go fishing?’ thought Mr du. They got dressed, had some breakfast, and packed a bag: bananas, thermos of coffee, bananas, sunglasses, water bottles, more bananas and a book for Mr du.

They drove to a sports store, bought two fishing rods and all the gear, then on to the supermarket where they bought bananas and a squid for bait. Finally they headed out to the wharf.

Once they were parked Spike was desperate to be up and away. He was out of the car and running down the wharf, while Mr du was left to struggle out of the car with all the fishing gear.

Spike was jumping up and down on the railings while Mr du was trying to set up all the gear. Spike could see little fish flitting round at the bottom of the pier. Mr du had a look. They were way too small to catch with a hook.

Mr du baited the lines and passed one to Spike. They both lowered their lines over the edge. Mr du sat down, leaned back against a bollard and closed his eyes. Basking in the sun, he started to relax as the sun warmed his body.

Spike bounced up and down, jiggling his line in the water. Mr du tried to ignore Spike and started to doze. His eyes grew heavier and heavier in the warm sun. Gradually he dozed off to sleep.

Suddenly there was a strike on Spike’s line. He yelped with excitement and looked at Mr du. Mr du was snoring gently. The strike became a tug.

The tug pulled on Spike’s arms almost wrestling the rod from his hands. Spike refused to let go. He was gradually being pulled towards the edge of the wharf. He called to Mr du. Mr du was asleep. The tug became stronger. Spike held the rod with one hand and the railings with the other. He yelled at Mr du.

Mr du just woke in time to see Spike’s hand torn from the railing. Spike disappeared over the edge of the wharf. Mr du pulled off his shoes, leapt to his feet, and dived into the freezing water. He opened his eyes under water. Where was Spike? Spike couldn’t swim. Mr du came to the surface, poked up his head and looked around. He couldn’t see Spike on the surface anywhere. As he prepared to dive under once again, he heard Spike’s voice above him, “Help me!”

Spike was hanging by his tail from a ladder down one side of the wharf. His tail and body were stretched out to full length. Both hands were firmly grasping the fishing line.

“Let go,” called Mr du.

“No,” screamed Spike.

Mr du swam over and held on to a pile of the wharf. He was cold and miserable. Spike was still stretched out in the air grasping the line. Somewhere under the water was a big fish.

Something had to give. Spike couldn’t hold on forever. slowly his tail started to uncurl from the top rung of the ladder. As Spike fell, he held onto the line. He was dragged through the air by the fish, then slammed into the water. The big fish pulled Spike across the bay like a skier behind a speed boat, except Spike was in the water. Still Spike wouldn’t let go.

The big fish started to tire and slow down. Spike was too heavy to pull through the water. Mr du swam towards Spike. As Mr du approached, the fish began to dive. Down went Spike.

Mr du stretched out his arm in one last frantic stroke and...grabbed Spike by the tail. He pulled Spike up, held him round the waist and pushed him to the surface. Mr du put down his feet. He could reach the bottom. He pulled Spike to his chest and walked backwards out of the water towing the fishing line behind him.

As Mr du walked backwards, the water got shallower and his clothes hug from him dripping with water. Spike was grasping the fishing rod tightly, his arms stretched out straight. The fishing rod was bending with the force of the fish. As the water got much shallower, just up to his knees, Mr du turned to see if the way was clear. He saw there was a large crowd gathered to watch on the beach.

As they reach dry sand the crowd let out a cheer. This seemed to give Spike new energy. He started to turn the handle of the reel and wind the fish in. Mr du put Spike down on the sand and sat down behind him, holding him around the waist so he wouldn’t be pulled in. Spike wound in the enormous fish. As Spike wound the fish up onto the sand, a photographer stepped out of the crowded and snapped his photo.

Spike held up the fish. It was taller than Spike. The fish flapped and wriggled. Spike gestured to Mr du, them whispered in his ear. He wanted to let the fish go. It had been a demanding battle and Spike didn’t want to eat his adversary. Mr du pulled out the hook and carried the fish back to the water. With a flick of its tail it shot through the water.

The next day was Sunday. When Mr du got back from the market to buy bananas he opened the paper. On the front cover was a picture of Spike posing heroically with his fish. In the background you could see Mr du shivering in his sodden clothes.

“Let’s go fishing again next week,” said Spike.