With the may rot having sent me to a little despair (the irony of unfishable flat calm seas after a winter of non-stop gales) I took it out the previous few days on my nemesis, Mullet on the fly. A couple of trips of intense observation, and on the 3rd trip, it all came together, with a thick lip for myself, and a thin lip to my "test" client (my very good friend Neil). And with the seas seemingly having cleared a bit as I drove home, I was happy I had invited my friend John Parsons, and his very beautiful sister-in-law Anne out to, quite literally, test the water.
I decided to run through for a bass first, and then perhaps go for a drag for plaice as the tide eased back. It was a good plan. Except the bass were missing. Couldnt find my shoal anywhere. So we moved onto the plaice. This went very well indeed, with a couple of really good fish, amongst plenty of smalls, and small gurnards. And was enough action to keep things interesting, until the sun descending signalled it was time for some munch in "The West Quay".