BACK FOR MORE…

Two nights later and on the eve of my birthday, the next session started the same as the last when I caught a black bream on my first cast, followed by a small plaice. Lee had a small sole on his second cast. While it was nice to be catching fish, I wanted a hound.

Once again, the fishing slowed for a few hours until Lee’s rod was nearly pulled o its tripod and he wound in a hound, a little smaller than the one he’d caught during the previous session. As much as I was happy for him, I was feeling disappointed that I couldn’t achieve my goal.

I waded out to release Lee’s fish, happy to see it swim o fighting fit, but I felt a little deflated. As I turned to return to my tripod, my right-hand rod pulled over slowly, the type of thing you see when the line picks up a lump of weed. By this point I was feeling crushed and picked up the rod to retrieve the weed, but was met with quite a bit of weight.

I wondered how I had managed to pick up so much weed when all evening the water seemed completely devoid of it. When my line was halfway back, I noticed it was going o to the left, yet the tide was running to the right. Yes! I allowed myself a small smile.

I played the fish carefully, but once it was in Lee’s hands, I could barely contain my excitement. It was only 3lb 11oz, but it was achieving my goal that mattered.

At this point I noticed the time was 12.15am and that meant the fish was not only my personal best, but also a birthday present. ■