The planned 7-10 days became almost three weeks. Possibly someone wonders how it all went. I'll tell you.We arrived Friday, son arrived later that evening. Next morning we walked the shore polaroiding, as in sight fishing. The lake level was dropping rapidly despite lots of water coming in from Tantangra. The shore line was slippery mud, and completely barren. At one stage both feet became well coordinated for a brief moment and slid from under me simultaneously; leaving me sitting on my bum in the ooze. Not as special as Kev's episode at Mulwala, but guaranteed messier. We never saw a sign of a fish. Next day, out in the boat; I decided to throw some plastics around. Others are using them there, but I had not. After three hours we went home for a beer. We never saw a sign of a fish. Day three; I decided to troll for a while, which is not a preferred option, but desperate needs need desperate deeds. After covering about six kilometres, using various lures; I wound in and went back to the van. I never saw a sign of a fish. Peter went home to work, and friends from Wagga Wagga arrived for a few days.Day four it was time to correct the situation. I baited four yabby nets and taking Bob with me, dropped them in a favourite spot for a couple of hours. I never saw a sign of a yabby. I never went out again. I know when I'm licked. It was hopeless, and I thought I could catch a fish there if I wanted one. Wrong again. The rest of the time was spent writing stuff, cooking great dinners, and drinking some good reds. The two dozen I took were perhaps stolen, as there was none left to bring home. Surely we couldn't drink them all along with half a dozen Bob had? Once considered impossible; I spent three weeks there and never touched a fish. Neither did any others to whom I spoke.