"It's A Game of Two Halves, Brian" or "The Ways of Fish".

After our very successful  sessions last week, we were planning another assault on the local beach. Me, The Mighty Turdster and The Whittler were deciding whether to go Friday or Saturday.

Friday was incredibly warm, 21 degrees C, light winds, more like summer than autumn. The Turdster decided to fish the Friday afternoon and in those conditions I was sure he was wasting his time. A few minutes after he arrived I had a text " I've had two in two casts". What ? In bright sunshine and flat calm sea ? He sent a photo to prove it. A while later, "I've had five", then "Seven now". Bastard.

Obviously I abused him and told him to stop texting me, it's so annoying when you're mate's are fishing and hammering the fish out and you're not.

Another double shot for the Turdster.

I kept telling myself, "They'll still be there  tomorrow", but I couldn't convince myself, so I set off to join Turdy with the intention of fishing the ebb from about 17.00 to 20.00. I practically ran the mile and a bit to the mark( yes, at 50 years old I still get childishly excited). "Got nine now" he said.

I tackled up, cast out and first cast the tip pulled over slowly and I was off the mark with a nice roker. The first half hour was a little slow until the tide started to pull, then all hell broke loose, with fish on both rods simultaneously. It was ridiculous and absolutely non stop.

A "Beach Gentleman" Don't ask....

I broke off occasionally to text the Whittler, knowing how it would annoy him. It's what you do to your mates.

I called out to The Turdster, "They're on the herring quicker than the squid". He didn't reply, just gave me a classic Turdster look that said "Who gives a fuck, I've had more fish than ever before and I'm totally knackered".

Double shot of roker

We packed up at 20.00 with the fish still feeding, having run out of bait and had more than our fill. We lost count in the end, but we both had over twenty roker each, plus a few whiting and codling.

The next day The Whittler, having not been able to fish Friday, said he was going to get down there and give it a crack. Being a greedy bloke I said I'd join him.

The Whittler hard at work

In a nutshell, same place, similar tide, a day later and not a single roker. Just a  few whiting and a couple of codling for The Whitler. I've given up trying to work out the ways of fish.