Things were moving pretty slowly in Taieri Mouth — a relatively quiet part of the world this time of year.
The wind — which has plagued much of the South for most of the past month — had abated so it was reasonably pleasant to sit on the shore and wait for the fish to come.
The tide was turning about 11am and as was predicted by many on the sand, the mixture of fresh and salt water was bringing the fish into the river.
He hoped it would not be his last.
He aimed to take the fish home and cook it up for a feed though there was always the option of eating it raw.
The fish were not yet biting but he was confident they would come.
And they did. Later on he caught two fish in one cast with two hooks.
He found driftwood and was building a wooden construction, which resembled a tent which he hoped to use that night.
He was keen to sleep inside it under the stars but doubted his parents would agree.