I left the net in the water, got the camera and scales ready and went to lift her out. The net was by now empty! It took a couple of seconds of my gawping to understand what had happened, the line was going through a hole in the net, that in my haste to set up I had not noticed. Playing the fish in the conventional manner was now out of the question, I hand lined the fish up, I could feel a jag, jag, jag as she shook her head. The fish was now out of the water, I was so near and then she flipped and the hook pulled and splosh, she was gone.
Now those who know me, could no doubt understand the expletives that littered the air like confetti. June the 16th, miles from anywhere, a lost fish and a hole in the net and it was not even seven o'clock. I had to do a patch up job with some braid.
I made such a complete bollocks up of that swim I decided to move, as you can see every area fished had to be battered down to access the river, stung by nettles to hell and back.
Only one more fish made an attempt, that was a small jack that slashed at my bait on the shallows and missed. I fished on until noon, but retired utterly knackered, covered in sweat and pollen. So I'm not sure I can count the one that got away ? Sure she was in the net, very briefly obviously, but she was not unhooked by my fair hand, no photo's just a memory of the one that passed me by. So I'm of the opinion it does not count.
Still with a river like this to fish and not another soul about for miles, just deer and the bird life to keep me company, your not find me complaining, well maybe just a little for my crass stupidity.