First sailing, and ultimately, only sailing, was with three generations of returnee's. Grandad John, dad Pete, and son Louis. Weather was kind of ok. A big of a nagging Easterly breeze, grey cloud but quite warm. Almost humid, suggestive of the weather to come. We went on the hunt for the first hour, as I knew exactly where I wanted to be for the turn of the tide but didnt have a firm plan for the last bit of ebb. The hunt was reasonably successful, with I think ten fish before the main event on the new tide.
That went to plan quite well. We caught fish steadily through the session. Many smiles and laughter. Families at their best. And quite even fish distribution among the rods. With the guys all keen foodies, we were aiming for max kill, which we would have had but for BIF1 rules. Another fat and very deep 60+ returned. But five thee pound fish made up for that in the fish bag.
Towards the end of the session a stiff SE breeze picked up. The forecast had suggested this would come in nearer to midday. At which point it would swing and increase further. The session came to a close, with thirty one fish landed, and the breeze continued to increase, making for a slightly bouncy run home. I made the decision to save wasted journeys for all involved in later bookings and cancelled.
And so, I again fume at the forecasters. Not even close on the wind forecast. It is flat calm. Raining hard, but we go fishing. And we dont melt in the rain, right? More peoples enjoyment ripped away. I get it. Its hard forecasting for a rock such as ours. But it still doesnt mean it is any less frustrating.