Unusually, for me, I awoke with the alarm screaming at me, time to get up, buy some fuel, and run it down to the boat. 05:30. And yet something was not quite right. I lay there in the dark, alarm continuing to scream. Slowly it dawned on me. I was aching and feeling quite poorly. For the first time in many, many years. I thought it might shift, if I simply cracked on, so I simply cracked on. That was when I noticed my temperature.
I still couldnt work out how I was feeling. It was quite tiring pushing the 80 litres to BIF1 and filling her up was also a bit of a workout. I was quite sure I was feeling better, so went up to meet Scott and Stuart, both returning.
Fishing was again hard. An hour in I felt the full onslaught of whatever demon illness has come to me. Everything aching, particularly my back regardless of what angle I fished. It is my own fault. I have had the rare pleasure of socialising recently, with other bipeds. Quite unusual for me. And lots of colds from the temperature step down. out there. Meanwhile, fish began to fall, very slowly. We got to six bass, and a first for Stuart, a cod, with just a short while left of the session to go, when it occurred to me, I was not fit enough to take the second sailing out. For the first time in the history of BIF1, the afternoon sailing was cancelled due to the poor health of the skipper. Feck, that makes me feel old... And yet, as I look out the window, perhaps it was for the reason. The hedges over the back, are moving way too much for a light SE wind. Seems more like a moderate one, so second sailing would probably have been cancelled last minute also.
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