The mackerel massacre

I've been down in Dorset for the past week, staying with David's family. On Wednesday night we had the most beautiful evening and so made the most of it by heading out in their boat for a fishing trip in Weymouth Bay. As eager as I am fishing has never been one of my strong points, and so when John handed me the rod that evening I expected it to follow the normal routine (ie. me going home in a sulk whilst others landed fish a plenty!)

My line hadn't been in the water for more than a minute when I had a definite 'I've got one!' moment. I reeled it in and was very happy to see I had not one but three mackerel on my line. The pressure of my first fish now dealt with things quickly progressed to silly season as I couldn't even get my line down to the bottom before feeling another bite or four.

About an hour and two full buckets of fish later we decided to call it a day. I could feel bad about this, as the boat really did look like a massacre had taken place - however I knew full well that not one fish would be wasted, as this has now stocked up their freezer and will see them through the winter (not that it's any great hardship, but it's nice to have your own caught fish rather than the supermarket's).

I returned to harbour like a happy, proud hunter (or is that fisherwoman) and was even allowed to steer the boat in to harbour. Tomorrow I'll be making the most satisfying fishcakes I'll probably ever make in my life - I am definitely looking forward to my next trip out!