Reminiscence of a fool... Part 4
What a Day
August 4, 2010
I'm sat in the car and looking at the waves crashing into the shoreline, listening and watching the wind battering the trees into an un-natural angle. The wipers are on intermittent as the drizzly rain tries really hard to turn into something more substantial, and I was in a dilemma. The forecast said the wind would change in direction and any rain would only be showers, but then suddenly the wipers were no longer required, so saying a pray to the weather gods I locked the car doors and was off. On my way to the mark the wind was starting to lessen and it was all starting to look very good.
I've lost count of the amount of trips I've done this year and I've yet to experience a bite let alone a bass. It really has been very barren for me. However, I was soon at my mark casting out recently caught mackerel to their chosen spots. Sitting back and looking around, the weather to the east was starting to look a bit dark. Two dog walkers seemed to agree with me as they turned around and made a hasty retreat as it was all starting to look very threatening. A bite, I can’t believe it, after all this time I go and miss it!
At least it's a sign that I am still doing something right, so with renewed enthusiasm I start searching the likely spots. The clouds are starting to look very dark now and the wind is once again beginning to pick up as I start to put on my wet weather gear in readiness. The first drops of rain fall, big and heavy. Thunder crashes as the wind picks up and blows my tripod and rods across the beach, hailstones start to fall as big as marbles as I struggle to bring in the line now festooned with weed from the water’s edge.
There is no discernible horizon all around me as I am stood alone in the middle of one of the best storms I have been in for years.
As soon as it starts, it's over, and I am putting out the rods once again. The first rod is out, but while making ready the second, I notice it bounce. It must be the wave action I think to myself, before realising the sea is as smooth as a mill-pond – another bite missed. Two in one trip and I miss both!
For the next hour I sit and marvel at the conditions, it really was great just to be out. No further action came to my rods as I packed away just as the tide was starting to turn… maybe next time.
