Document 788
Dipper: 51 - Annyntit
Author(s): Dr James A Begg
Copyright holder(s):
Dr James A Begg
Audio transcription
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Anyntit
If ever there wis a pair o anyntit rogues
that didnae deserve sic a Divine blessin,
it wis the McGintys.
They got ither 'blessins', mind ye, mair nor yince frae the byllies,
whan they wrigglt their wey oot o yae caper efter anither -
like the time they had the impidence tae net the Tidal Puil at the mooth o the river.
The grapevine had tellt us o a hunner seatroot bein liftit oot the Tidal Puil yae week in the middle o June,
an while daunerin alang its bank, I had fand a couple o wee widden pegs lyin whaur they suidnae hae been,
hauf-wey doun the puil, juist whaur a gill net cuid hing easily in the slack watter
- an hing a wheen o fish comin in wi the nicht tide.
A public pad ran doun the faur bank,
an ayont the thorn hedge at the back o it wis an estate o bonny big hooses wi fancy gairdens.
But whit had made their ploy aa the mair impident
wis that the hoose o Girvan the netsman
stuid nae mair nor a hunner yairds awa at the fuit o the puil.
Twa nichts later, the Heid Byllie, Jock an Neil an mysel, efter walkin the watter since the darkenin, feenished up at hauf-past twae in the mornin by the road brig juist abune the Tidal Puil.
It wis a still, bleck nicht,
an as we left the bricht glare o the street lichts ahint us tae gang doun the pad,
whit wi the trees abune us on yae side,
the thorn hedge on the tither, an the roar o watter throu the dam dirlin oor lugs,
we cuid see nor hear ocht.
As oor nicht sicht cam back, the pad stuid oot a faint siller-grey, an as we cam roun a corner I stoppt deid -
'Somebody's comin!'
I hissd ablow my braith.
Fower faint bleck sheddaes nae mair nor forty yairds awa an heidin oor wey, stoppt deid tae.
For a lang hauf-meenit we aa stuid ruitit tae the grund then,
kennin we cuid gae nae further withoot them rinnin awa onywey,
we switched on oor torches tae try an at least identify them.
Blurred faces an grey sheddaes scattert,
then dertit throu a handy gap in the hedge wi the fower o us in hot pursuit.
The 'hot pursuit' didnae last lang,
for they were aff like grews at a hare,
lowpin ower laich waas an throu the fancy gairdens,
wi oor middle-aged sels pechin ahint them like fower auld spaniels.
Then we saw there wis yin no juist as skeich as the lave,
an wi that the pechin auld spaniels turnt like magic intae a pride o lions efter the waikest o the herd.
The puir bugger tried hard tae lowp a dyke but tummlt, an wi that we were in for the kill.
'Ma knee!
Watch ma knee!' he cried.
'Ah ken that vyce!' I thocht,
then wi my torch on him - 'T'Hell, Ah ken the face as weel!'
It wis Sanny Todd,
a committee member o the Fishin Club,
an a regular in oor shop!
'Whit the hell are you daein here?' I speirt, dumfounert.
'Ah wis... Ah wis only oot a walk, an whan youse pit the torches on me Ah thocht Ah wis gaun tae get mugged... so Ah ran!'
'Ach! Tell us anither!' scoffed the Heid Byllie. 'That wis the McGintys wi ye, an ye were nettin the Tidal Puil!'
Wi that, Sanny kent fine he had been rummlt, an stertit tae mak his excuses -
'Oh, ma knee!.... Ah wish Ah hadne came. They asked me tae come wi them...
it's ma furst time ever. Ah'm no workin, an Ah thocht Ah'd mebbe mak a few bob for the weans!'
'Whaur's the net?' demandit the Heid Byllie wi a hert o stane as he sent Jock tae phone the Polis an turnt a blin lug tae the hard-luck story.
Todd stauchert tae his feet an hirplt back across tae the watter like a lame dug luikin for a pat on the heid.
'Doun there!' he gestured vaguely throu a gap in the pylin fence.
I jumpt doun throu the hole an Neil cam ahint.
We shone oor torches doun an up the puil, but cuid see neither corks nor ropes - naethin!
Disappyntit, herts sinkin, we were juist turnin awa whan we spied, ablow the watter, the end o an orange rope.
Tied tae an underwatter peg, it streitcht oot o sicht tae the faur bank.
The fly buggers had been uisin submerged nets
that wad niver hae been seen in a month o Sundays by byllies patrollin the banks.
For my sins, I began tae feel a wee bit sorry for Sanny,
for I kent he had a puir wife an a hantle o weans tae keep on Benefit -
tho it did cross my mind that if only his doctor kent he wis fit eneuch tae gang oot poachin, he micht no be 'oan the seik' ower lang wi his gammy leg!
But there he wis, forlorn an dowf,
staunin on the yae leg an moanin aboot the tither,
an I tuik peety on him at bein nabbed on his furst nicht oot.
'Och, awa hame oot the road, Sanny, an let us get on wi luikin for thae ithers!'
I fand oot my mistake five meenits later whan Jock cam back.
'Ye silly bugger!' he cried.
Ah've juist mindit on ma road tae the phone that that yin Todd has been bummin tae aa the ither fishers in the Club o aa the seatroot an saumon he's been catchin on the flee up the watter this year...
an even showin them photies tae prove it!'
I cuid hae crawlt ablow a stane!
'Aw weel,
we ken whaur he steys, an the Polis can pick him up later,'
I excused lamely,
'but we'd better gang an get that net the nou.'
A sherp rug shuin freed the net frae the faur bank, an we poued it in haun ower haun, expectin wi aa the eager anticipation o poachers themsels tae see a guid haul o seatroot,
but aa we got wis yae dumfounert wee flounder!
The Polis were nane too pleased ither, whan they had tae pick up Sanny Todd at hame -
aa the mair sae whan they fand oot he'd been the driver an had left his caur doun a nearhaun street -
nae dout wi ither nets in it!
We aa learn by oor mistakes!
Nane the less, Sanny did come tae coort - withoot the McGintys -
an the Sheriff wisnae ower impressed wi his bein 'oot a walk' at hauf-twae in the mornin,
an fined him seeventy poun.
An the funny thing is,
despite it aa,
Sanny's still a guid customer!
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Dipper: 51 - Annyntit
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