Mudlarks

The stalker of the marshes and creeks invited myself and the venerable (older) Bully down to cash in on the return of the mullet and bass in numbers to is local haunts armed with a bag of rag and static fly gear. Coffee and yarns over we set off to the local mark to fish to the bottom of the ebb for the bass and to see if the mullet would turn up in numbers for later. I'd forgotten my rod rest (Loafer had bagged his favourite seaweed encrusted old piling) so made do with this finely whittled bespoke rest that he had fashioned. The rod didn't stay on it much as we had schoolie rattles from the off on the rag.I really, really hate estuary mud and the Loafer was pressganged into landing and hooking half a dozen or so so bass for me. This was the best of the bunch.:He did refuse however to have anything to do with this decent eel. He absolutely hates them.Bully was off doing his own thing and became the first proper victim of the ooze, much to our merriment. Victim number 1Eventually my…