I am convinced that somewhere in the cosmos there is a disgorger black hole. Many years ago, when I worked with the tools, I made disgorgers by the hundreds, enough to last a lifetime, even after distributing them to all and sundry. These days I can never put my hand on one. I do have a personal foible that does not help. At the end of each trotting session I will empty the residue of bait in my apron in to the river, by way of a libation to the fish for their cooperation. This free distribution is usually accompanied, inadvertently, with a disgorger, plummet and any other bits and bobs I have in my apron pockets. Do it ever time. Pete.