14/06/2026
Sometimes the snapper bite back, and you go home with more than you bargained for.
I recounted my last kayak fishing trip on Thursday, but what I conveniently left out was the injury I inflicted upon myself while out on the water.
Mid-session, when Rob at Born to Fish and I decided to up-anchor and change position, I twisted around in my seat to zip up my trusty Tag-It cool bag. With my less-than-dexterous hand, I grabbed the zip and gave it a good yank. The resistance was palpable, and the pain was like a little tap on the shoulder saying, 'Hey, something's not right here.'
I quickly retracted my hand and was greeted by a few millimeters of snapper spine sticking out of my left thumb like a tiny, bony high-five. I was wearing gloves, but apparently, they were no match for the snapper's spiky defense.
Using my teeth as makeshift pliers, I tried to yank the spike out, but it broke. Undeterred, I swapped to using actual fishing pliers, but that didn't fare much better – the spike broke off again. The spike had decided to play a game of hide-and-seek under my thumbnail. Lovely!
Luckily, my hands were sufficiently chilled, so the pain was more of a dull throb.
I made it home and clippes back the thumbnail to expose the errant spike, but it was slippery devil, and I couldn't get a grip. A trip to White Cross ensued, where the doctor, wisely, decided not to play Dr. DIY and instead referred me for an ultrasound.
One gel-covered thumb later, the scan revealed about 3mm of spine was still holding out in my thumb. Back to White Cross I went, where I lucked out with a young doctor – young enough to have sharp eyesight, I hoped.
I flashed him the close-up photo, and with the confidence of a safe-cracker, he numbed the thumb and gave it one smooth pull with some itsy-bitsy pliers while providing some expert thumb counter-pressure. And voilà!
Proof that at least one of my catch that day managed to land a solid hit on me. Fair’s fair I guess.