Whenever Thomas rolled along his branch line, he always looked out for something special happening either at the stations or the lineside, as there was always plenty to see and do.
One of these places was Ellsbridge, where, as the name implies, a bridge crosses over the River Ell. As Thomas rolled across the bridge, he noticed some people with long poles sitting next to the river, waving them every now and then, or winding a strange contraption.
“What are they doing Twilight?” he asked.
“They’re fishing Thomas,” Twilight replied. “Those long poles are called fishing rods, and have a special item called bait attached to them. When a fish grabs onto the bait, the person using the rod, or a fisherman, reels it in and they have their catch! Though, as these people are doing it for fun, they throw the fish back afterwards. Now come on Thomas, we can’t afford to be late, can we? Whatever would Sir Toppham Hatt say?”
Thomas wanted to stay and watch, but there was never enough time to do so. Even so, the process fascinated him.
Later that day, he encountered James and Rarity at the junction. He whistled to them, cheerfully. “Hello!” he called. “I was thinking of giving fishing a try!”
There was a brief moment of silence, before both James and Rarity burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Thomas asked, confused.
“Don’t be so silly Thomas!” Rarity chortled. “Engines don’t go fishing!”
James followed up the sentiment. “Yeah. For a start, how on earth would you operate a fishing rod? It’s not as if you have arms!”
“Well,” Thomas replied. “Twilight could operate the fishing rod for me. Besides, I think you’re just a silly stick in the mud!” And he raced away before anybody could say anything else.
The thought nothing more of it for a few days, until a problem at Knapford Junction forced necessity to be the mother of invention. Due to careless maintenance by the local gas and water board, a water main had burst, cutting off all water to the station. This, in turn, meant that the water tower was empty, and a large notice was hung on it reading ‘OUT OF ORDER’.
“’OUT OF ORDER’?” Thomas asked. “Bother! I’m thirsty and my tanks are nearly empty!”’
Twilight then had an idea. “Let’s get water from the river!” she cried, releasing Thomas’ brakes and opening his regulator. “I’ve got just the thing to get the water from the river into your tanks.”
They sped along the line, aware of the low water levels, and after the stop at Ellsbridge, Twilight carefully positioned Thomas in the centre of the bridge, before getting off his footplate and taking out a bucket.
This bucket was very old-older than Granny Smith, some claimed (though never to her face). It was worse for wear, and had five holes in it. This meant that Twilight had to pull it up as fast as she could, empty it into Thomas’ tanks, and then repeat the process several times.
“There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza!” the guard joked.
“Never mind about Liza!” Twilight replied. She then began to sing herself:
“Sometimes it's nice to take some time out
Do what you really want to do.
Just to relax and let the world fly by you.
Forget your worries, no need to hurry.
Just leave a sign to say...”
At this point, both Thomas and the Guard joined in with the harmony part.
“Gone fishing, gone fishing.
It's a sunny old day and you're on your way
Gone fishing.
Gone fishing, Gone fishing.
It's a sunny old day and you're on your way.
Why don't we all go fishing?”
“There's nothing better on a sunny day
When all your work is done.
Throw down your line, settle down.
Surprise, surprise, look what you've found...”
“Gone fishing, gone fishing.
It's a sunny old day and you're on your way
Gone fishing.
Gone fishing, Gone fishing.
It's a sunny old day and you're on your way.
Why don't we all go fishing?”
“It's a sunny old day and you're on your way...
Gone fishing!”
When they had finished singing, Thomas’ tanks were full, and they could continue with their journey down the line. Annie and Clarabel rolled happily behind him, but it wasn’t long before they began to run into trouble.
Thomas’ boiler suddenly began to ache badly, which soon changed to a raging agony. Twilight consulted the pressure gauge in concern as the safety valve triggered.
“Steam pressure is rising too quickly!” she cried. “If we don’t get the amount of steam in the boiler down, we’re risking an explosion!”
“I’d rather not explode!” Thomas answered. “It would make a bit of a mess!”
Twilight cracked open the injector to try and increase the amount of water in the boiler. But no water came through from the tanks. “Great!” she said. “We’ve got a jammed injector!”
They rolled slowly down the line, Thomas’ safety valve full open and his cylinder cocks blowing steam to try and reduce the amount of steam in the boiler. “I’ve got such a pain, I’ve got such a pain,” he groaned.
They stopped just outside Ffarquahr at the end of the line and uncoupled Thomas, who was hissing uncontrollably and seemed to be on the verge of exploding. His boiler pressure was dangerously high, coming close to exceeding recommended operating pressure.
Twilight parked Thomas on a nearby siding, and found two stop boards that could usually be found in the quarry. They read ‘DANGER! KEEP AWAY!’
The passengers looked on from the platform with a mixture of horror and amazement. The guard telephoned for both the engine inspector and Sir Toppham Hatt, both of whom arrived a few minutes later.
“What seems to be the problem?” the engine inspector asked.
“Well sir,” Twilight explained, “the injector doesn’t seem to be working properly. The one on the right-hand side of the cab won’t pump water as something is blocking it, and the one on the left-hand side of the cab has been working overtime to keep pressure down.”
“Ah!” said the engine inspector. “The feed pipe is blocked! I’ll take a look and clear it in a jiffy!”
He climbed up on a ladder and took a look in the tank, and then nearly fell off the ladder in surprise. “Sorry to bother you Sir Toppham Hatt,” he said, “but you wouldn’t mind looking in the tank for me?”
“No problem,” Sir Toppham Hatt replied, and peered in. What he saw shocked him too.
“Inspector,” he asked, “do you see...fish?”
Thomas’ facial expression changed to one of shock as a loud chord sounded in the background.
“FISH?” Twilight asked. “Of course! We must have picked it up when we picked up water from the river!”
Sir Toppham Hatt sighed. “Well, that explains a lot. Somebody want to fish it out?”
It took them several minutes of adjusting fishing rods, with Sir Toppham Hatt directing of course, but at long last they got all the fish. Even though their being in Thomas’ tanks had cooked them in advance, they still made sure to cook them again, and having sourced a good supply of chips (or fries, as Twilight kept calling them, much to everyone's confusion), they had a wonderful fish and chip supper. Except Thomas of course, who was still rather embarrassed over the entire thing.
Sir Toppham Hatt wiped his mouth. “That WAS good!” he exclaimed. But then he looked sternly at Thomas and Twilight. “But fish don’t suit you Thomas, so you mustn’t do it again.”
“Yes sir,” said Thomas. “Engines don’t go fishing, it’s too uncomfortable!”