Henry Gilbey
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Henry Gilbey blog

Cabin feveritus ? Quite possibly..........

Sunday morning dawns still, dank, mild, and with that general feeling that it's not going to do what is forecast - which is to start howling from the W/NW along with a nice bit of sunshine. By amount midday and I am starting to get into a headspace of why can't they ever get the sodding weather forecast right kind of thing. We're going fishing. We're going to find some decent water somewhere. I don't care that it's nearly the end of January and we haven't had anything approaching nice water around Whitsand Bay for what feels like about a hundred years. This is the day..........

First place Mark and I look at and it's just a pile of filth, indeed the colour of the water reminded me more of launching cod and ray baits out into the Bristol Channel ('em were the days). Not to worry, let's move further along Whitsand and see if we can tuck in somewhere out of the now howling wind (sorry Mr. Weather Forecaster, you got it right, save for the moody skies). Storm is in the back of the car, itching to get a bit of a yomp, I can tell that Mark simply needs to go fishing, and me ? Cabin fever, plain and simple. I get out with the dog multiple times each day, but as much as I love it, an angler needs to go fishing.

We're suited and booted and we are making our way down to what looks like it might be some kinda fishable water. It could be a case of whistling in the (howling) breeze, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. I said to Mark that if any angler drove past us and glimpsed us heading down to the beach, they would be thinking only one thought : "yes, those idiots have a serious case of cabin fever". Or something along those lines.

On goes a 25g/120mm Black Minnow and as I struggle even to stand up properly let alone get even a little bit of "feel" as I try in vain to bump the thing around, I can't help but think about a feature I wrote in the week for Sea Angler - all about bumping paddletails around and that "feel" was vital to fishing them effectively. I must hope that nobody who might read the feature when it is published ever tries to bump paddletails around in the sort of conditions we were up against yesterday afternoon, because if they do they're going to wonder what on earth I was on about - feel ? What's that Gilbey bloke on about ?

"Feel ?" More like trying to stand up straight and not hit yourself in the back of the head during the cast because the wind is so strong and across. So I shot a few photos that you can see here - I really felt that the light and conditions lent themselves to a bit of a moody black and white conversion, so at least I felt something while trying my best to hold the camera steady. We came, we saw, we tried, we failed. But we are anglers and no doubt we shall try beating the rather obvious odds again sometime - and especially when the cabin feveritus gets too much to ignore.

Monday Morning Metal Madness - If there was ever a song that says everything about winter to me, it's "At the Heart of Winter" by the mighty Immortal - from their album of the same name. Immortal are consistently one of the finest black metal bands out there. Recording music obviously takes place for the most part in a studio, but a song like this to me sounds as if it were organically created atop a frostbitten Norwegian fjord with the the sun struggling to peer over the horizon as the country climbs out of winter. I'll get my coat.........

Oh, and this is my first blog post and the first processed photos on the new Mac. Nothing's been thrown out of the window so far.

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