Sub-zero temperatures, a biting north-easterly and watery January sunshine. The piscatorial equivalent of doing the hard yards. But at least we got of the mark with a first sea catch!

Hardly a record-breaker but at least it was a personal best – ok, a first – dab; a peculiar looking flatfish that tastes better than he looks apparently. Not that you’d get more than a mouthful off this little fella.

One of the joys of having an Eastbourne B&B, with a glorious beach at the end of the road, is the easy access to fantastic fishing. Apparently. 

Having seen some beautiful sea bass being caught off the end of the pier during the week I spent at least two hours in the early hours getting excited about the planned trip for today – fishing from a canoe with a guest, opposite the bandstand. OK, it was wet, cold and with a storm brewing we headed home fishless. But not before seeing the beach fight scene for Brighton Rock played out about 14 times. And we still haven’t seen Helen Mirren. She’d have loved me, I’m sure, in my woolly hat, waterproofs and overwhelming smell of squid.