Bit of catching up to do

I've been busy exposing my drinking habits to a wider audience, so I thought I'd take this blog off thisisnorthdevon lest you should get fed up of my grinning mug...
Anyway, now I'm back, and I didn't let the booze diary get in the way of my fishing.
A night at Woolacombe gave me loads of bites, bait that was gradually getting gnawed away, but nothing to reel in. To be honest the tides were all wrong when I went. I'd just missed high tide and spent my evening walking ever further down the beach. Come the end it was low tide, 2am and I was utterly soaked. I'd gone out in my wellies but in my efforts to cast out a decent distance had got them waterlogged - and once your feet are wet there's little point in trying to stay dry. So I just went out to waist height and got drenched.
If I was really serious I guess I wouldn't have gone - but actually I would always prefer to spend a beautiful evening out of doors and doing something than having an early night or watching the box. Sometimes it really isn't about what you catch. Easy for me to say!
I really improved my casting over the course of the night, must have almost doubled the distance I was doing by trying some different techniques and by concentrating on how I was holding the rod. But of course it counted for nowt.
I wasn't entirely alone all evening. Just after 1am a pair of drunk teenagers came to play near me. They've got two miles of beach and where do they come? Five sodding yards away to have a little dance in the waves. One of them was of course a hoodie and, as I know them to be armed and dangerous, I kept an eye on where they were all all times in case they mugged me for my old, refrozen squid box...
The fish, however, just didn't want to come and play with me, so I finally left, damp but no more dejected than usual...