I was half bored, half tired, and when what I probably wanted to do was to go to sleep, I said, “I am bored” and then Siew said, “Let’s go prawning!”
So we got ourselves to East Coast Park. I didn’t know East Coast Park would be so lively even at 9 pm. (So free parking was all taken. Ha.) At the prawning place (very well signed, this East Coast Prawning), we paid $18 an hour for one rod. We paid it to a middle-aged lady who peered at us critically from behind her glasses. We had to get help from the staff, a sweet chap with a close crop and black specs. He helped set our line.
We settled ourselves at a reasonably occupied pond. By occupied, I mean the people sitting around, not the pond, which over the course of an hour was evidently not filled with prawns. There were smoking ah bengs, tanned uncles, families, little boys, and a teenage boy who swung his rod at us without a care.
I have a superbly lackadaisical attitude towards fishing in general, the thanks-I-will-watch attitude, in particular. I held the rod sometimes, I asked if the bait was still there. I tried peering into the deep black of the pool, and I attempted to google how to better our chances of getting some prawns.
There wasn’t any ready answer and I preferred to wait. I mean, isn’t that what fishing is about? Haha. In the end, despite Siew’s efforts, we only caught one prawn in an hour. And then we were kinda sleepy, despite the excitement from the fishing in the next pond, where a man chased fishes up and down (you can’t pull them up before they are biting properly) and finally flung one out of the pond, right under my chair.
Now this photo above is not sharp and has little merit but it shows the entirety of our efforts. And that was us before the sweet chap mentioned above came by (having earlier asked us how many we caught) and handed us a plate of prawns. We were laughing and telling each other, “Eh, sympathy prawns!” That was while we were at the BBQ pit. But as it was with most things at this site, the fire was burning a bit low and then Siew said we should just head off. She had this grand plan on how to season and bake them.
So that’s the end of our prawning adventure. We swiped the prawns into a bag, ran, hopped into the car, and swiftly got ourselves back. The whole evening was full of comedic moments, including the time when we discovered how little meat there was in these big-headed prawns.