READER’S short story

When chaps go fishing, they like to come home and tell the story of the “giant” one that got away. But K Bradshaw, from Stockwood, Bristol, reveals what really happens when lads go on a fishing trip, and frankly, it’s amazing any of them are allowed out unaccompanied…

Years ago, two friends and myself went for a spot of night fishing in the Bristol Channel. We arrived at our location at 9.30pm and put up our gear ready to get a catch, and our umbrellas that we kip under when we’ve finished fishing.

The tide was on its way in, so it was time for some action. We caught some cod and flatfish until the tide started to recede, and it was time to settle down with a hot cuppa.

On the way to our umbrellas, we noticed one of the lads was limping. We told him it was probably a stone in his welly, so he took them off, shook them out, and put them back on.

We settled down for the night under our umbrellas. Some time later, I suddenly got up, fell over my fishing gear, then landed on my mate’s umbrella.

Getting to my feet, I carried on stumbling in the dark until I fell down a ridge, and landed 4ft below on the beach. I woke up to hear my friends laughing at me – I had been sleepwalking.

They shouted over: “Do you want a dummy?” and I felt a right Charlie and thought I would never live it down. But the next morning at daybreak, I had the last laugh. My mate who had complained about his wellies hurting, looked down and realised he’d been wearing them on the wrong feet all night.

When we eventually got home, we went into his shed and painted a big R and L in white paint on his wellies so he wouldn’t get confused again.

It was one of those nights. Submit your short story – fact or fiction – of up to 500 words to siobhan.mcnally@mirror.co.uk