For all you nine to fivers suffering the Monday morning blues. (and having a sneaky peak at Ribnet)
I was up with the Lark this morning, actually it was the Blackbirds, followed by a Crow, then the Collared Doves and finally the Milkman, who now drives a Diesel powered cart, (whatever happened to those nice quiet electric ones?) that made sure I was full awake. It was a quarter past three in the morning.
After several trips out had been shortened by the weather in the last couple of weeks, I decided that I'd have a Dawn run. My wife decided I was Mad.
I dragged the Bombard down to the beach in the predawn light.
I launched into a sea of gently undulating glass.
As I motored along the Sun was trying to poke it's head above the horizon.
Finally as I reached my fishing mark it managed to.
The fishing was slow at first, but I didn't mind after watching the sun rise. It was so peaceful, just the odd fishing boat puttering along in the distance and the slow tolling of the Bell Buoy, as the lazy swell crept under it.
But finally the fish began to bite, a few small ones at first.
Then the bigger brothers.
The fish came in at a steady pace, nothing big, but still fun on light gear.
The first dog walkers with their yappy pooches, warned me time was getting on. Then a few spots of rain told me it was time to head back.
So with showers on the horizon, I ran for home.
It had been a good morning with over a dozen fish landed and seven keepers.
So it was home for a well earned Bacon butty and a pot of Coffee, before putting the boat away.
Now what shall I do for the rest of the day?