Free And De Fun Don't Done by Robert G. Barrett Page A

diving up and down next to the rocks: there was a surprising number of fish for so close to a populated area. Lots of little ones would flitter amongst the rocks then larger, tropical looking ones with colourful stripes and wide flat bodies. Les swam out a little further from the rocks, took a good, deep breath, dived down about fifteen feet into the warm gloom and held onto the rocks. He didn’t quite shit himself, but he got quite a start when these long, black fish swam right up in front of his mask and sat there, their fins and tails just moving in the current. They were at least a metre long and looked exactly like New South Wales Whiting; same shape, same long mouths only scaly black. They floated in front of him quite calmly then disappeared when Les came up for air. Well I’ll be stuffed. Norton couldn’t quite believe his eyes. He floated, kicking in the current for a minute or two then dived down and held onto the rocks again as he popped his ears. Another four Snook swam up and floated right in front of him: one had to be at least five feet long and two feet wide. Again they swam slowly off as Les floated to the surface. No wonder the authorities won’t let you spear them, he thought. With gun crazy seppos around like Captain Rats it’d be a slaughter. I could’ve caught those ones with a plastic fork.

Another two powerboats roared past towards where they’d left the pick-up and further back Les could see Hank, his head bobbing up and down as he swum against the current. Norton was kicking easily, half laughing at Laurel Lee doing it tough only because he was such a flip, when the pressure of the dives along with the sudden power burst hit him. This time an extremely violent pain went all through Norton’s system; an old friend was definitely on the move. Norton was just about to pull down his Speedos and say goodbye when an evil glint appeared in the brown eyes behind the new, silicone face mask. Les swam out from the rocks a little, watched Hank for a moment or two as the convulsions went through him, then, judging the current pulled down his Speedos and squeezed. This was a ripper. Les floated there and let it all go; the relief was unbelievable. Les opened his eyes and watched the four old friends, all brown and shiny, drifting rapidly south in the current. They were bobbing nicely along and Norton was thinking how well they packaged their airline food when another attack hit him. This one was more a gigantic, hot spurt that almost moved Les through the water as if he were jet- propelled. It rose to the surface and followed the four Bondi Cigars in the current like a brown lumpy cloud. Now feeling about a stone lighter, Norton pulled up his Speedos, dived down into the current beneath the old friends and swam like buggery back to Hank. Scooting along with the current, Norton almost pulled up with a screech he was going that fast; he stopped just outside Hank keeping the American between him and the shore.
    Hank had just surfaced and was spluttering around probably wishing he had a waterproof cigarette. ‘So how’s it going?’ said Norton. ‘I haven’t seen any of those Snook. Have you?’
    Hank slipped his facemask on top of his head and scowled. ‘Those goddamn New York assholes in their power boats. The sonsofbitches scare them away. Fuck them!’
    â€˜Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. Noisy bastards.They’re a pain in the arse alright.’ A movement in the current bobbing towards them caught Norton’s eye. ‘So what do you want to do, Hank? You’re running the show.’
    Hank was about to say something when turd number one, about the same size as a Fijian banana, hit him straight in the mouth. Hank spluttered, screamed and cursed and grabbed at his face when Henry number two hit him, crumbling and spreading all over his hands. Hank cursed and shrieked some more and thrashed in the water like he’d been attacked