Laid there like you do when you reach a certain age.

I had an itch I needed to scratch, and since I haven’t been able to get out during the recent storms, I found myself with a couple of hours free to finally do so. The wind was strong, but just south-westerly enough not to cause any major problems.

I arrived at the same mark as in my last post and started making my way along the shoreline, ready to wade out a couple of yards and fish parallel to it. Well, that was the plan. Once again, I was looking down at the amount of discarded crab shells when I tripped over a piece of ironwork still poking its head above the shingle.

This wasn’t a half-hearted stumble - I went straight down, and just as my face was about to meet the shingle, my hands instinctively came up to save the day… or my face. I lay there, as you do when you reach a certain age, and checked whether everything was still working. Miraculously, it was, and luckily I escaped without a scratch to my knees or hands. My rod, on the other hand, had missing ring liners along with the tip.

I was gutted, and when I looked at my glasses, the right lens was pitted from its close meeting with the shingle. I shouldn’t have, but I rethreaded my rod and carried on fishing, knowing that if I hooked into anything, I was extremely unlikely to land it. After about 30 minutes, the braid, worn from constant casting, parted - which was my sign to head home.

Now, as I sit here typing, my back is really starting to play up. Fingers crossed normal service resumes soon.