Spearing flounder

1960 and I was on the way down to Onehunga Beach on my trusty single-speed Raleigh bicycle, my saddlebags (for paper deliveries) bulging with fishing gear. Namely Dad’s old Coleman kerosene lamp, his craft Brasso tin with an s-bend goose neck on top for the meths to top up the starter bowl, and of course the proverbial ‘sack’, still giving off the (not so faint) aroma of past fishing expeditions. It was tied of course at the corners by a length of twine to make a shoulder strap.

The spear was a single shaft type, made by my father years ago in the A.T.B. workshops where he worked as a foreman coach painter. This was strapped along the bar of the bike, point forward (oh silly boy!) as I rocketed down my home street (Moana Ave) and made the turn into Mount Smart Rd.

So did the early morning milk truck.

With the reflexes of youth, I jammed on the trusty foot brake and as I swerved past the truck, I saw with horror the spear slowly move forward along the bar until gravity took over. It tipped forward, flicked the tarmac and buried itself momentarily in the bike tyre, which responded with a hiss of relief. I stopped and surveyed the disaster before slowly trudging up the hill back home where I went back to bed.

In the morning my father asked me what had happened to the tyre. When I told him, he said little, which always meant that he was thinking a lot about things. The next week on Monday night he arrived home and produced a new model spear he had designed and made at work. It had a light mild steel tube shaft of about 1.5 metres in length and of 1mm wall thickness, with a nut brazed onto the end. To this was attached a spearhead of 10mm solid mild steel bar with a matching thread bolt brazed to the middle of it . Along its length were drilled 10 matching holes with 40mm nails brazed in place.

The solution to my safe transport of spears was created. The shaft could be safely carried by any means to any venue and did not become a spear until the head was screwed into place!

From that time on, travelling to the beaches close to home with my spear was not a problem for the bike tyres – or for other road users for that matter!

I used to bike to the local beaches over or near the old Mangere Bridge in the early hours of the morning and was able to spear the numerous flounder that came in with the tide. The new spear design had a bonus feature. The multi-point head was used to spear many piper from the large schools that drifted lazily into view at night. Before, we were lucky to get six or so from many attempts at them, usually giving up to concentrate on flounder. With the new technology, I was able to bring home two- or three-dozen at a time, with a sprinkling of any other sea life that moved as well – a mixed bag!

On the way down Queen St one night at 3am, I ran all the red lights as usual. As I was on a pushbike the light pads never reacted because the bike was too light to trigger them, a minor problem in those days given the traffic speed and density. However on this night, a local bobby saw me coming down the street and after I ran the last two lights, he moved out of the shadows and nabbed me.

First, I had to explain the lights problem, then the saddlebags full of dubious-looking hardware, and my presence at that time of night so young and separated from my mother! I was thankful that the spear was in two parts and that the Coleman lamp etc. convinced the constable that I was a legitimate fisherman in a hurry to catch the tide.

He sent me on my way with a caution about road rules and the time of night but this incident only hastened my departure to the next set of lights which I ran as usual and quickly raced off with his words ringing in my ears: “You evil boy! I’ll get you next time!”

A blast from the past! This article originally appeared in NZ Fisherman magazine – January – 1998