After a settled week we had planned to try and get afloat out of Berwick this afternoon. The forecast last night looked bordereline, a hard frost and patchy fog but very light winds.
When we arrived at Berwick we realised they only had part of the forecast correct. The temperature gauge on the car was reading -2 at midday and it was as thick as pea soup. The wind was stronger than forecast and was South Westerly rather than the Northerly we were promised.
After a quick prep and a short discussion with the Humber CG about our sanity we set off into a rather snotty sea. Fifty yards off and the shore line was a blur, a little further and we realised that the sea was a little rougher than we would have liked for the time of year. Never the less the decision had been made to launch so we continued out beyond the second reef making our way out to our regular ground. We plotted a few waypoints along the way as a precation. There are a few shallow points that could prove troublesome with the reduced visibility on our return to shore.
Once we got to the marks I felt very uneasy on the drift, there was a pot boat working just outside us and I could only here his engine running. Brian chucked his drogue in to slow down the horrendous drift, I had left mine in the car. I snagged and lost my gear so I spent a few minutes getting sorted out. Once I was back in action I looked up and Brian was out of sight. The drouge had altered his speed so much that we had lost visual contact with each other. I made my way back down the track on my plotter and soon found him.
A quick discussion and the decision was made to abort mission. By now the sun was sinking and the fog was getting thicker. I reversed the track and made my way back down the line on the plotter that I came out on. Well that was the plan anyway. Once we got closer to the shore it was evident that the swell height had increased to a level that made our exit point a maelstrom of white water. Time for plan B to come into action, we reverted back to the trusty old compass and made a quick change of track through some deeper water. Thankfully that went to plan and we were soon in the lee of the netting station looking for the beach. That came into earshot at first then the outline of the swells appeared out of the mist, casting an eerie shadow against the shore.
I think “Don’t panic Captain Mannering” were my last words as I made a break for the shore. **** cheeks firmly clenched, gear strapped down, I rode a few decent swells and finaly crunched to a stop on the beach. Brian came in 50 yds from me and again landed with dignity in tact.
My main priority was to get my flask out and have a cuppa. For Brian, it was to empty the fishing tackle out on the beach and get out there into the surf……….Nutter !
For me that’s it until I get back to the Sea Lochs. Crap weather and no fish, enough said !
Neil.
