Bob

Sometimes it doesn't take much to sum up a fishing trip. There's always the temptation to over-think or over-write what's gone on, but usually the fewer words you use, the better. Especially when there's not actually very much to say. The day was bright - too bright as it turned out - and the water still cold from the long winter, so it wasn't surprising that the fish weren't really interested. I saw one carp banked - not by me - and it came in like a small sack of spuds, barely bothered enough to flick its tail. Nice fish though.

As for me, all the action was concentrated into a single moment just as the sun went down. Bob, went the float. Bob. (That's me repeating the same bite for emphasis, rather than me describing a second bite). And that was that.

Readers expecting a bit more action than that after all this time, I'm sorry for your trouble and I apologise if you feel you've wasted the last two minutes. You should have been there for the other four hours...