Foam fizzes in the sand as the waves break around the rocks. Gulls scream overhead as I launch the lure and watch it fly out to sea. It feels a little strange to start with but I soon get into a rythym, pausing every few casts to retreat a pace or two ahead of the incoming tide.
Summer's just around the corner. So hopefully are the bass, although this morning's high tide passed by without a hit for me and one of last summer's regulars, who beat me to the spot I fancied. The sea was slightly coloured, but I could see the lure flashing as I jinked it back over the tops of the boulders.
"Been a few out already," said the old boy up the beach as he folded down his rod and joined me for a smoke. "It was this week last year they started catching so they orter be about by now."
Wherever they are, I don't think they're where we are, I told him. But I've got a good feeling about this summer, me old podna.
