It was just one of those days for Claudine. Fishing should have been great, lots of surface activity, but the fish were taking some invisible stuff that she couldn’t figure out. Then a strong wind began to blow. Despite her repeated supplications, Coco hadn’t thought one bit about designing a wearable stripping bag, so Claudine had spend an exhausting morning managing the line’s follies.
And just when she had finally hooked the first good fish of the day, her line had snagged on the one branch of the whole lake… Pohkatchak, for goodness sake! — she cried.
And now that she thought about it, she was going to have a serious conversation with Charles. The guides distribution on her rod was a mess, and he probably had done the static the same drunken night when he invented his famous grip shape.