What The Hell Happened To Summer 2018?

In 2 words, Bob Barlow happened! I’ll not to go in to too much detail but it’s enough to know that in March 2018 our lives got turned upside down when after months of not being quite “right” my dad was taken in to hospital with what we all thought was a mild stroke. Except it wasn’t and 6 months later, 3 of which were spent getting a diagnosis, he passed over to the great fishing spot in the sky. The cancer that finished him was a one in 500,000,000 bit of bad luck, about right for this family! So the best summer weather wise that I can ever remember was spent backwards and forwards, a couple of days at home on the island and then long days in Liverpool keeping him company as he went through his chemo.

There was the odd day out in the boat but not many. I’ve always used fishing and in particular boat fishing as my escape so it was essential I got out whenever I could. The fishing was decent, the Mackerel were around in good numbers but there just wasn’t a lot of joy in it. Not really surprising, ever since dads wife passed away late in 2011 it was always me and him whenever it came to fishing. I wouldn’t so much as clean the boat without asking if he wanted to come, and he always did. My therapy was his therapy and now with him not here it’s going to take a long time to adjust. But I know he’d be fucking gutted if I packed it in so it’s just a case of getting through it.

That brings us on to 2019 and what could be a bumper year. What I did learn was that a lot of boats didn’t fish much last year and with what should have been a cracking set of weather variables we could be looking at a record year in local waters. Today was supposed to be my first proper trip out in anger but the lingering fog and rain put me off this morning, not something that would have happened in the past and I’m determined that I will try harder next time. The next report on here should be an actual proper one including some fish 🙂

Rock Cod

Rock Cod

A 5lb Rock Cod

A touch under 5lb of Rock Cod. That’s not the fishes blood in its mouth, just where it took a lump out of the old fellas finger!

We’ve still got dads last trip out in the boat to do, where else would his ashes go?! I’m going to take one of my marks and rename it Bobs Boulder and share the GPS co-ordinates, I think he’d like that.

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