We seem to be at that time of year again. Hurricane season in the U.S.A. has a multi pronged fork to stab in our efforts to get afloat. Not only the physical facts, that the immense energy that creates these beast storms, although dying, inevitably finds its way across the pond to cause our "autumnal" weather, but, kind of worse, the weather forecasters definitely have erred on the side of over exaggeration when it comes to predicting the wind strengths, ever since that fateful day in October 1987 when Michael Fish poo poo'd the idea of a full blown hurricane pitching up on English shores...
I am obligated to observe, and make decisions, from the weather forecast. Especially with some clients travelling many miles to enjoy the BIF1 experience, when the weather man says its gonna blow, then I have to cancel the sailings. Happily though, when the weather man says it is going to blow, and I wake up at 0500, because I had an under-riding mistrust of what the weather man was saying based on how it looked when I went to sleep, and two uber keen clients who had already said "ring if it looks different when you wake up", I was able to lay on a sailing.
It wasnt the most prolific sailing in the way of fish, although a very small codling did knock the CAT (*Cod Accumulative Total) to 11 in our pursuit of once again being Brighton's top cod fishing boat for the winter 2018/2019 season. But it was quite fun, as the banter is always good with Mark and his nephew Damo on board. Damo did particularly well, with two new personal bests. A pollack and a beast of a mackerel. Small bass were also forthcoming, but we struggled and failed, to find a proper one. Marky did entertain with a double shot of mackerel on a Frolic, which was rather ironic as it happened as I was singing the praises of frolicking for mackerel, and taking them one at a time,
Mark and Damo stayed on for the second sailing, where we were joined by Ian and his lad Fergus. It was a bit bouncy, but I think the conversation soon snapped Fergus from his slight apprehension of rough seas, and he soon had his sea legs. Once again, mackerel were the main event, despite trying quite hard to find a coddie. Bass did oblige, but beasts again not. And with the sea condition worsening, as the promised wind strengths finally materialised, we called it an hour early and headed in.