Bob is a fish. Bob has a bob. Bob is called Bob because of the bob. I was at The Lake of Freezing Water, almost in after thirty minutes of working myself in. Catherine said, hey andrew, do you want a bob, cause there goes on. And sure enough, there went a red and white float underwater. There wasn’t a current and the bob was moving along the shore. Catherine suggested that a fish must be attached to it. I moved to it and it took off. Quickly Jof! I called, throw me my mask and fins! I said, here goes everything and dunked myself under. I came back up and donned my gear and set out on a hunt for the bob. In no time I found him.
An epic battle ensued.
And Bob ran away.
So the hunt was still on. I went to the other side of the tiny beach that we were at. The water clarity wasn’t that good, so I dove down about eight feet to take a look down there.
But then I died. Not like I did last year, this was like getting slapped. So I got slapped. Everywhere. The water down there was about 53 degrees. I couldn’t move, and my head hurt.
Bob got away.