Dad loved to go fishing. On holiday he’d row an old wooden boat out to a fishing hole he thought would bring him a big catch.
He’d sling an old hessian bag over the side to keep the fish alive until cleaning time.
We caught heaps that day and dad dropped each one into the bag.
When we finished he drew in the bag and discovered a hole in it and only two fish still there. His disappointment was obvious. But he laughed it off saying the fish he caught swam out of the bag and back onto his hook.