Fish like it's 1999

I believe it is conclusive that I am not one of the chosen ones, due to me not being whisked up to a higher place over the weekend or eaten by raptures as the Rev Camping predicted. In fact, had I not been on call on Sunday and called out to a lost key vampire at twenty to midnight (I can only assume that it must be a sun fearing, blood sucker that would wait until this stupid time to decide that they had lost their bloody meter key) that it hadn’t been a bad weekend at all. (St Jon, Chapter one)


Obviously like the 2012 Olympics there is a sizable build up to any major sporting event and the sea fishing weekend of the 18 / 19th June is no exception, so on Saturday we braved a ridiculously early start and knotted handkerchiefs to make our way down to Poole Harbour for some preliminary fish related manoeuvres. On the way out for this specimen hunt we passed the Sunseekers Poole boat yard where 7 million pounds worth of ship had just possibly got too close to the sun, or maybe a Zippo lighters depth of a disgruntled employee? ? “I don’t know”

On Saturday with the potential of Judgement Day and the end of the world imminent I fished like Robson Green’s makeup artist and managed to get some reluctant pouting. Other than that: Pollack, Wrasse, Bream, Mackerel and of course the slim and perfectly formed Lindsay Lohan lookilikee Garfish were caught