The wind doth blow

The lazy wind's been howling down the drain all day. I'm togged up to the nines but I'm cold for the first time this season.

I've messed about with different things on the leger rods. Big baits, small(er) baits; joey, lamprey and new secret squirrel deadbait.

I've tried popping them up different distances from the bottom, twitching them back, messing about trying to re-invent the wheel.

The float rod needs a 2oz lead and a big ET blob fished 6ft over-depth to hold it still.

The water's clear but the waves are tipped with foam. I've had a feeling this was going to be a lost cause all day, but I stick it out as the clouds mass and the wind whips up another notch or two.

I was going to call it a day at 3pm, but Rob rocks up full of Rob-esque enthusiasm. I move the rods around to make room for a couple more. I've had one in front of the feature he casts his first one out to all day on and off.

As I get the stove on, Rob gets a pull. He's down the bank like Rob going down the bank when he gets a pull.

He picks the rod up, sweeps it back and misses whatever was on the end. I take no delight whatsoever in this. I would clearly have been happier if he'd turned up, dropped one in and caught a twenty right where I'd been fishing.

Sod this podna - I'm off, I say as the sun lights the gathering clouds for a minute or two, before it dives for cover.