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Fishing

We had just won our last fixture, the day had been very warm, and we had been in the field most of the afternoon. It had been a full day game.

One of those games when the result had been in doubt until almost the last "over". Stumps were to be drawn at six forty-five sharp, and there was only half an hour to go. We were a long way behind, and looked very much like losing. They were only twenty or so behind with six wickets to fall. Their opening bat was still there, with something over fifty on the board, and didn't look like getting out.

We got one more wicket whilst they scored another eight runs, and Sam, who was fielding next to me at second slip, said he thought he may as well have a go, he couldn't be any worse than any of the others and you never know, it might be his day.

So he took over at the top end, and I didn't think anything spectacular would happen, in any case it had to happen quickly. His first ball was carted for four, and he was quite sharp with Ben for not getting to it, and sent him another ten or so yards further back.

Sam was our opening bat, and his bowling although straight, was as a rule not very penetrating. However he proceded to bowl a straight yorker next, which their opening bat, in his eagerness to get the game won, made as though to put the ball out of the field, hit over the top of it and down went his middle stump.

"How's that then," said Sam turning to me, "we've got rid of him if nothing else."

Sam then took the next four wickets in four more balls. They were all yorkers, all straight, and in each case the batsman took a swipe at the ball and hit it over the top. Five for four and all bowled.

Now we were all sitting in the local pub, enjoying a well earned pint of beer, and replaying the game almost ball for ball, certainly the last over. Grand game this cricket, I don't know whether it's better playing the game or talking about it afterwards.

The small bar was almost full, and the beer flowed freely. The other side were a sporty crowd and after all it's not often five wickets fall in six balls even in village cricket where odd things often happen. I was the oldest playing member, and probably feeling tireder than the others. I sat back and enjoyed the conversation, not saying much. Thinking of other games and other post mortems in other places and other pubs. Wondering how much longer I would be able to keep on playing, another season at least, before I was relegated to being scorer, or even sitting under the chestnut tree. Maybe I could do umpire, I would at least be out on the field.

We talked cricket for some time, and someone thought that we ought to have the ball suitably inscribed and presented to Sam, then when he told his grandchildren all about it in years to come, they wouldn't think it was a "fisherman's story".

This somehow brought the conversation round to fishing, and it was quite surprising how many fishermen there were in the company. All kinds of fishermen, fly fishermen, coarse fishermen, river fishermen, pond fishermen. There were those who favoured fishing off the pier, those who preferred the shingle and those who thought a small boat gave the best sport.

In fact, as I listened I began to think they were all Isaac Waltons. The catches got bigger and bigger by the minute, and the size of some of the fish landed on a very fine line was quite outstanding. One in particular was a shark "longer than that counter". Now I know that that particular counter is something more than eight feet long because Fred, who was the landlord, and myself built it, and we had to get a piece of Formica ten feet long so as to get it in one piece without a joint. Some fish I thought.

Odd how one remembers bits of conversation years afterwards. I remember how Sam ridiculed the idea of him telling of his prowess to any grandchildren for a long time yet. It is all very different now, he has six or seven and we have all been relegated to the chestnut tree, and play all our cricket in the pub, and very good cricket it very often is.

Fishing, now that never was of much interest to me. I had caught a few very small trout at home in Cumberland when I was a boy. Or perhaps a few perch in one of the lakes, where you had to cast a line in the water with a minnow on the hook and pull out a perch almost as quick as you could put the bait on. But it wasn't very exciting, or at least I never thought so.

I could also remember my father making a sea rod when I was quite young. How he worked for what seemed hours smoothing and fitting all the various bits. I remember how I thought that when it was finished we would be catching fish as big as the one depicted on the cod liver oil bottles, of which in those days I had to take a spoonful two or three times a day. I was outgrowing my strength so the doctor said. I remember the picture well enough, it was of a man with a cod fish slung over his shoulder and the tail was touching the ground, a huge fish.

Father said the wood was lance wood, the very best for fishing rods. I found out later that in fact it was part of a pony trap which had been discarded. It could well have been lance wood, but there would not be much life left in it then. He made it in the yard at the back of the house. He wouldn't have many tools at all, but when it was made it was a grand rod, or so I thought and I'm sure Dad did too.

I remember standing on the rocks with him, with the sound of the breakers and seagulls all round us, and the spume flying whipped up by the wind. I never remember him ever catching a fish though, and it was said in the village by the other men who regularly went fishing, that it was no good going to catch fish if Jack Nolan was on the shore because all the fish went to the Isle of Man when he was there. And I remember thinking how easy it would be to catch fish in the Isle of Man if we could only get over there.

All this was going through my mind as they talked about fishing, and as I stood up to go home, I remarked I thought nothing about fishing, it was too slow to my liking. That was quite the wrong thing to say in that company and Fred, who owned a boat which he had fitted up with all the necessary bits and pieces, as well and an engine, and did quite a lot of fishing, took up the cudgel and told me I didn't know what I was talking about.

What I ought to do was go out with them one day and find out how wrong I was. He was willing to bet that I would be tired out if I went with them one day, and they were to get amongst a big shoal of bream or maybe cod or even skate or perhaps hook a conger eel half as big as the boat. "What man it could bite half your hand off if you didn't know just how to handle it. Slow," says he, "more exciting than standing on a cricket field all day in the blazing sun. You can't eat cricket balls. You come with us tomorrow and have a try."

"All right I will," I answered.

"Right then, be here at nine prompt and we'll see who's right."

Saying good night, I went home having been out of the house since just after nine. I was ready for bed, and as I walked home I wondered if I'd been very wise saying I would go fishing, when I knew very well that Sussex were playing Yorkshire at Hove and that I had promised myself that I would have a day there, it was always a good game. Ah well I was committed now, I'd have to go and find out about this fishing.

It was almost ten o'clock when I reached home.

"You look tired, where ever have you been until now? You haven't been playing cricket until now. You men and your cricket, I'll bet you've all been in the pub. Talk about women talking, you men are twice as bad. Did you win?" Eve had been waiting I don't know how long to cook my tea, or was it supper.

"Well Sam won anyhow."

"How do you mean Sam won?"

"He took five wickets in six balls and he made top score."

"I thought he was a batsman?"

"So he is, but today he was a bowler as well."

"So you have all been celebrating, eh?"

"That's about it, and I'm going fishing tomorrow with Fred and somebody else, so I'll be out all day again."

"Do you mean in that boat of his?"

"Yes."

"You just be careful then, do you think they are safe all that way out in that little boat?"

"I guess they are, they are out often enough."

"What time will you be home do you think?"

"Don't know really, Fred said something about if they miss the tide they might have to stop out all night."

"You see they don't miss the tide then, you've got a watch, I don't want to have to get the police out to look for you, you get home before it's dark. Go and have your bath now and this will be ready for you by the time you're finished."

"What is it?"

"It's a nice bit of fish."

Goodness I thought, fish again. "We'll be having some fresh fish tomorrow I hope."

"This is fresh, at least it ought to be, it cost enough. Go on hurry up, I want to get on with my book, I can't settle down to read when you're out late."

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Next morning the sun shone and not a cloud in the sky, just as Fred had forecast. No wind, just the day to be out there pulling in fish as fast as the hooks could be baited. As I approached the pub I could see Fred bending over the boot of the car. He didn't see me until I was almost on him.

"Well," said he, "you've come then? I must say I didn't expect to see you. Didn't I tell you it would be a grand morning? It'll be a treat out there this morning, you see, come on in the house we're just going to have one before we set off."

"A bit early isn't it?" I asked.

"Early, it's never too early for a drink of my bitter. Do you good, give you an appetite for some of this grub Ella's put up, anybody would think we were going away for a week, there's enough to feed an army."

With that we went indoors and Joe, Fred's friend, was was pulling some beer.

"Well," said he, "I'm glad you've come, I'm just a learner as well so we can help each other. How do you feel after last night? You had a fair drop you know."

"Oh alright I seldom get a hangover, and in any case I didn't have a great deal, I was missing out quite a bit, I enjoyed the crack though. It was quite a night wasn't it. I wonder how Sam's feeling, he had a few. So did some of the others, but it's holiday so they can all have a lie in."

We drank a pint each, and Fred was all for taking some draught with us, only that he thought it wouldn't keep so well in the heat. "Better than this old bottled stuff, but it does get a bit flat towards tea time. You go and say good morning to Ella and get the food, while Joe and I carry this lot into the car." This lot being two crates of beer and one or two bottles of "short stuff", as Fred called it. "Don't want to be short," said Fred, "it's a long time till ten tonight."

I went through to the kitchen where Ella was just putting the last bits into a big hamper. "You won't be hungry anyhow," she remarked, "though what ever you want all those drinks for I don't know, I thought you were going fishing not to a garden party or something. You'll all drown I wouldn't wonder or get lost or something."

"Why don't you come with us? You could be barmaid and then we wouldn't get too much."

"Come with you lot? I've got better things to do than sit in a boat all day. You see you bring a nice lot of fish with you, that'll be something. Cricket all day yesterday fishing all day today, when do you do any work? If the woman did that I don't know what would happen, nothing would ever get done."

"Hurry up John we're late enough as it is and the tide won't wait for us, I can see us sitting on the bottom if you don't get a move on." Everything was in the car when I at last got outside and the engine was started and we began to move off.

"Stop," shouted Fred, "We've forgotten the rods, and the bait, good job somebody's thinking what they're doing. We would look a lot of mugs if we got to the boat without the rods. Nip out Joe, you'll find them in the big shed, I put them all ready last night. You lot had too much to drink to think of anything at all. A good job somebody can drink more than a couple of pints and not get sozzled!"

We were running down Long Furlong at ten minutes past nine, so we were up to time. Fred thought there would be a bit of haze towards evening, but not enough to worry about. In any case he reckoned he could find his way back into the harbour blindfolded.

Little did I think at the time that that is just about what we would be doing.

When we got opposite High Down Fred pointed out that that was the landmark, which when lined up with a certain gasometer in Littlehampton would bring us in to the harbour without any trouble. "Just as easy as kiss your hand." I think Fred was thinking aloud really because in a minute he was saying "We'll go straight out to the wreck, and not mess about trying anywhere else. It was always better to get right out than try for anything about a mile out, they were always little things close to shore."

"How far out do you go?" I asked.

"Oh about five miles or so, maybe a bit more on a nice day like this. You get a few really big ones then, and maybe a nice skate. They make good eating, better than bream."

Joe said he wouldn't mind getting any kind of fish, and I thought the same. In fact I wasn't expecting to get any, as a sort of first timer and yet the fish wouldn't know I was a learner, my hook would look just the same as Fred's to the fish. And you never know your luck, I might even hook one as big as some of the ones we heard about last night, as long as the boat or the pub counter. And I was prepared to watch my hand, I didn't want to get home minus a limb.

I thought five miles was stretching it a bit, and I wasn't so keen to go out quite so far, but "in for a penny out for a pound". I had never swum five miles, a mile maybe when I was a good deal younger, and I wondered if the other two could swim at all.

"How do you know when you are out by the wreck?" I asked.

"Oh," said Fred, "when you have been out there as often as I have it's easy, I'll bet I can drop that anchor within fifty yards of it nine times out of ten. I'll go out on a compass bearing you know."

I still thought five miles was a long way out, and that Fred was very clever to be able to find something out there which could not be seen. It seemed like a lucky dip to me, but I let it pass, not wanting to appear so very ignorant.

Soon we were running down the side of the river at Littlehampton, where hundreds of boats of all kinds were being built. I never knew there was so much industry on such a small river. We ran almost to the mouth of the river before stopping at the foot of quite a high bank. We had driven off the road and parked on the grass.

"Here we are then, we've got a good hour before the tide runs out. Nice time to get all the stuff loaded up and have a snack before we set off." Fred was all hustle and bustle now, and I was getting excited. Not a breath of wind and the sea looked as flat as a mill pond. We started to unload the food and carry it to the boat. As I came to the top of the steep bank and in sight of the boat Fred said "Well what do you think of her now?"

I hadn't seen her since I had helped to unload her some months ago. She was then a landing craft, or had been, and looked very rough. She now looked all spit and polish. All white and new looking, and the bits of brass shining, a picture as she lay about two feet below the small landing stage. Amongst many other similar boats she looked quite as smart as anything there. A small cabin had been added and a sort of box affair which covered the engine, all very neat and ship shape.

Fred had done all the woodwork himself. He must have been a very good tradesman when he worked on the tools, but still he wouldn't call himself a boat builder, it's quite a different job to carpentry. The wheel was covered with canvas, and various ropes were all coiled neatly. I felt a bit more confident, it all looked as though Fred was a proper fisherman, or ought I to say sailor? I climbed down into the boat and took the stuff from them, and we all went back to fetch the rest of it. We got everything into the boat, and I went back again to make sure that we had forgotten nothing, and to lock the car.

In a hurry now, and getting more excited by the minute, I missed my foothold on the top of the bank and went headlong down, to land up with a bump against the side of the car, knocking myself out.

When I came to my senses after just a short while a young chap was bending over me, and his wife by his side. They were going to the shore and had seen me fall. I went to get on my feet and with his assistance managed it, only to fall again when when I put my weight on my foot. I was sure I had broken my ankle. I can't remember anything quite so painful.

"Take it easy," said the young fellow, "you had a nasty fall, is anyone with you?"

"Yes," I answered, "we are going out for a day's fishing, they are just over the bank, I'll be alright in a minute."

He was taking off my shoe and sock and said "You should see a doctor about this foot it could easily be broken, you won't do much fishing today. I'll go and get them."

"No don't do that," I said, "I'll be OK when I've had a rest. If you will just help me up the bank I'll manage, I can sit all day and I need not get any weight on it." With that I got on my feet or at least on my one foot, and after a struggle they got me to the top of the bank and in sight of the boat. "There they are," I said, "if you will help me as far as the landing stage I'll be OK."

This they did and saying again that if he were I he would go home and rest, it may be broken. He could well have been right, the pain was quite something but I could hardly spoil their day so I hopped along on one leg to the end of the small landing stage and stood looking down at my two confederates, my shoe and sock in my hand. They were each drinking a beer.

"Where have you been, I thought you had changed your mind and set off home." Then they must have noticed the shoe in my hand. I explained what had happened and they were both concerned, and Fred climbed out to help me into the boat. "Lets have a look. Yes you've hurt it alright it's going green already, can you put any weight on it?" He helped me down into the boat and sat me down. "Can you move your toes?" I could and we thought I had just twisted my ankle. Joe poured me a glass of beer, but Fred had a better idea than that, and poured me a whisky, almost half a tumbler. "Drink that up you'll feel better after that."

I certainly felt better, or at any rate I felt different.

They'd got everything ready whilst I'd been falling down the bank and were now eager to get sailing. I sat and watched. The engine was started and the mooring ropes thrown off, the bow was moving slowly out into the stream and I thought soon we would be catching those great fish almost as big as the boat they were talking about last night.

Fred was the captain at the wheel, Joe and I looked on. Fred engaged the engine and it immediately stopped. Fred looked shocked and wondered what could be wrong with it. "Probably a bit cold," he thought and once again wound the starting rope on. The engine started again first pull, "Ah that's all it was I thought it must be." He again engaged the thing and again it stopped. "Have a look at the petrol Joe, it must be that." Joe went to look and couldn't find the tank, Fred had to leave the wheel and show him. "Full," said Fred, "what's wrong with it then?"

I asked if they had cast off properly because the boat was still not going out with the river and seemed to be tied to the landing stage by the stern. Fred thought we were not far enough into the river to have the benefit of the current yet, and he started the engine again. When he engaged the engine again the same thing happened.

I managed to get to the stern on one leg and feeling over I could feel some rope on the little prop. "There's something on the prop, Fred," I called and Fred just laughed.

"Seaweed," he said, but I knew it wasn't, and when he came and looked he knew too. "You didn't cast off far enough Joe and now we're all tied up."

I tried to cut the rope off but couldn't get near enough, it was some little distance under the water. I undressed and went over the side, the water was still too deep for me to stand on the bottom and I still couldn't reach.

A young boy was standing looking down on us from the landing stage, a lad of about fourteen. "Let me have a go mister, I've got a snorkel maybe I could do it." That was a good idea I thought.

"Come on then," said Fred, "but I don't think you can."

The boy wasn't to be told twice and in very short time he was in the boat and had his clothes off and his snorkel tied on and was over the side. He went right under and after a few seconds came up and asked for a knife. He took the knife which was anything but sharp, and in a very short time he came up with the piece of rope in his hand.

"I've got it off mister, but I've lost the knife."

"That's alright you're a good lad, here's something for doing it," and Fred gave him a ten shilling note. The boy soon dried himself and was off, no doubt to get rid of some of the money.

Now the boat was moving down the river and when the engine was started and engaged we were off to the sea. "Just about in time, in another half hour we would have been sitting on the bottom." This from Fred and after he'd told Joe he was no kind of sailor at all, he thought we had better have a drink, he was as dry as a chip.

The drink was taken, and we were soon feeling the swell of the sea, and passing amongst numberless small boats. The sand was just becoming visible at the edge of the sea so we were just in time to catch the tide. I sat with my foot in the water and I took a look at it, it was all discoloured but only ached now and I thought I would be alright for work the next day. I was quite wrong, I had a fortnight away from work, and the ankle took weeks to get really better.

Soon we were well past most of the small boats and heading straight out. Fred fixed the steering somehow and we had some food. "Better have it now because we won't have time when we get amongst the fish." There didn't seem any doubt about us catching some fish at any rate, not like poor old Dad years ago on that wild rocky coast in Cumberland. The food was all of the best, and we were by this time hungry. Joe was waiter and broke the roasted chicken into three more or less equal parts, and we washed it down with bottled beer.

We had a good tuck in and Fred pointed out the various landmarks including the points whereby he would steer the boat home when we returned in the evening. It all looked very simple and straightforward. I still could not see how a bearing was to be taken sort of sideways when we got there, surely we would be looking up and down the Channel and there would be nothing to line up as could the gasometer and the hill at High Down. However I kept quiet, there might be a solution just as simple.

Why worry, the day was going well now after the first unfortunate accident, good food, a lovely day, a feeling of relaxation, and of the course the drink we were consuming in large quantities. I'd already had a pint of bitter to start the day, a very large whisky or was it two, now two bottles of beer and to cap it all Fred thought we could all do with a drop of the hard stuff, just to finish off the meal.

I had a feeling of wellbeing, due I'm sure to the drink, but after all it was a nice thing to be doing on a day like this, and I was being treated like a VIP, not being able to move about much and having everything brought to me. The smell of the pitch which one connects with boats and the sea was present, and the gentle swaying of the boat, the warm sun, and a full day before us, what more could one want.

The food was put away and Fred was getting out the rods. "Here you have this one John, it's a bit shorter than the others and won't get in the way so much, seeing as you're not so mobile as we are. How's your foot, lets have a look at it."

"Not so bad, it's just numb," I remarked, pulling it out of the water where it had been since we set off, and holding it up for him to see.

"Numb, I should think it is by the colour of it, you needn't bother about doing any roofing tomorrow, you'll be lucky if you manage to get out of bed with that, and I'll tell you something else, you won't be playing any cricket next week either, you'll be sitting watching with us."

On we sailed and I began to wonder how far out we would go, looking back towards the shore the land looked very far away, a deal further than I could swim. Fred and Joe could not swim at all. I had a sly look around for life jackets or anything in that line, but could see none, and I also wondered about that compass Fred had talked about the previous night, where was that, I could see no sign of it. Perhaps it was in the cabin or "little house" as Fred called it, and yet I thought that was an odd spot to have it. I was the only one concerned with safety.

I could see that the way we were forging ahead, we must be quite three miles out now and no sign of stopping. I hoped nothing went wrong but then what could go wrong, a good boat and a competant skipper, and hadn't they been out dozens of times before and always got home. This was my first time out in a boat of any kind so perhaps it should make me a little nervous.

I could see in the not very far distance a ship approaching, one out of Shoreham I thought, she didn't look as far out as we were and I drew Fred's attention to it.

"Oh," said Fred, "she's a good mile further out than we are, you'll see when she comes up with us." I rather doubted that but distances can be deceiving looking over water so perhaps she was a good deal further out than she looked.

She came quite quickly and I could plainly see the bow wave as she glided along, the noise of her engine now discernible and she still looked on a collision couse with us. Joe went to get some binoculars from the "little house" and as he did so, our little motor which had brought us all this way gave a cough and stopped. Almost at once we lost way and began to turn broad side on to the small swell.

"Drop the anchor, Joe," shouted Fred, and Joe went to do as he asked. As he picked it up to cast it over the side there was a loud shout from Fred "Not like that you'll drown yourself put it down," and Fred went over to show him how. He stood well away from the rope which was so neatly coiled and dropped it over the side, and of course the rope went along with it like a snake uncoiling. I saw the danger at once, and had Joe thrown it over he would have almost certainly gone in with it wrapped around his legs. I was quite shocked and so was Fred and said so.

The ship was much closer now, and had I thought altered course a bit and was now coming even nearer. The men on board were quite plainly watching us and no doubt wondering what all the dashing about was. Fred had jumped across to stop Joe and his attempt to drop the anchor, perhaps they had seen the sudden activity and wondered what it was all about. Fred looked across to the ship and waved, saying at the same time "They're far too close in shore, I've a good mind to report them when we get back."

The ship gave a toot on its horn or whistle or whatever it is called on a ship and veered away. She was only about a hundred yards away when this happened, so much for Fred's good mile, but he said nothing about that small miscalculation.

Our boat was steady now, the anchor was down and we were head on to the small swell. My colleagues took the cover off the engine and studied it closely. They found nothing obviously wrong, and tried to start it up, all to no avail. They decided to give it a rest and try again when it had cooled down.

"We might as well have a go here," thought Joe. Fred said we could if we liked but if there were any at all they would only be small ones. He was going to have a drink and a smoke, he hadn't had a smoke since we set off. Joe got my rod ready and put bait on and I all eager now cast it over and waited. Joe threw his over the other side and almost immediately hooked a fish, in fact when he pulled the line in there were two small fishes.

"I told you so," said Fred, "they're poult whiting, not worth taking home."

My line seemed to have caught something. "Have a look at mine Fred will you, I think I've got it round the anchor or something."

He came and took the rod from me, and said "Yes you've got something and it's big." I had visions of a cod half as long as the boat as Fred slowly wound the line. I leaned over to watch and when it came to the surface it was quite a size and was pink and an odd shape, not like a fish at all. It threw a stream of water clear on to my lap and immediately dropped off the hook. Fred said it was a squid and no good to eat but it would have done for bait.

We caught a number of fishes, all the same kind and about the same size. Fred was disgusted and went to try the engine again. It started first pull and soon the anchor was pulled up. Fred would show Joe how it was to be done and proceded to stand on the prow of the boat one foot at each side and did a very good imitation of a clown at a circus on a tightrope, arms waving and the rope falling all over the boat, any moment now I thought I'd have to go over the side and rescue him. It would have been funny in some places but not four or so miles out to sea. "That's how it's done Joe, you can do it next time."

The motor surged and sounded perfect and we set off again, not towards home as I thought we would but further out.

"Are you not going home?" I enquired.

"Home?" exclaimed Fred, "We aren't halfway out yet."

"What about the motor?" I asked.

"Oh that's alright," said Fred, "it was only a bit hot it'll be alright now you see."

I hoped it would be, we were almost out of sight of land, and with a motor that seemed to have a mind of its own. I began to think that there was a deal more in this fishing lark than one would think, one way and another. Fred was set on catching big fishes, it seemed nothing less than something about three feet long or even longer than that would do.

Up to now there had not been a dull moment, something happening all the time, what with diving under the boat in the nude with a leg only half working, stopping and starting, picnicing aboard, an exhibition of a tightrope act, and Joe's apparent attempt at Hari-Kiri. All very exciting. Now heading for France full steam ahead or wherever we would end up. I had already begun to look ahead for any help we might require. It must be nearer to France than England. I tried to remember my geography lessons from school, was it twenty miles from Dover to Calais? Or was that the distance between Cumberland and the Isle of Man?

On we went not a living thing in sight. I'd give a bit for the sight of a ship out of Shoreham and risk being cut in two, but there, I was sure they would not come out as far as this.

"How far now?" I ventured to ask.

"Oh about another mile, maybe two," said Fred, and as if it had heard him say "maybe two" the little motor seemed to think that was too far, and stopped again.

Fred addressed it in words which I need not use here, and the boat seemed to go its own way which seemed to be in a circle as if it couldn't make up its mind one way or another, but seemed to prefer to be cross way on to the swell, which was a good deal more pronounced now. The anchor was again got over the side without mishap and we steadied up.

"This will perhaps do," thought our skipper, "we'll have a go here and let the motor cool down again. I paid that fitter five pounds something just last week to have a look at it. He didn't do much to it in fact I think he's made it worse, it was alright when we were out here last week, no trouble at all, went like a bird."

Joe had got the rods out again and was baiting up. Fred thought we should use another kind of bait here and fish a bit deeper, they would be bigger fish now.

He was quite right about them being bigger, soon we were catching two at a time and Fred knew we were in amongst a big shoal of bream. They were up to two feet long and we kept pulling them in and dropping them in the bottom of the boat, they jumped about all over, and some nearly jumped back into the water. Time went very quickly and when we suddenly realised that the sun was almost down below the horizon, it was decided it was time to set off back home. We had more drinks and a snack to eat, a smoke and Fred thought we had not had a bad day, but we would have done better if we had got a bit further out. Nothing was said about the motor, there did not seem to be any doubt in Fred's mind about us getting home. I did not feel so sure.

The fish were put into sacks and Joe got me a towel and I had a look at my foot, I had almost forgotten it in the excitement. It looked not very good and I could not begin to get my shoe on. The day had cooled and Joe found me a bit of canvas to put round my shoulders, not being able to move I felt cold, and Fred said the best thing to do would be to open that bottle of rum and for us all to have a good stiff one, which we did and felt better at once.

Fred grumbled a bit because we had caught no cod, or skate. Bream were not so good to eat, and I remember him laughing the funny little laugh he had when he was amused, and saying quietly, "Better than cricket this isn't it John?" and I had to agree it had its points. I had really enjoyed the day up to now and if I could have seen the land on either side, France or Littlehampton, I would be enjoying it even more. We had caught eighty fishes counting the small ones Joe and I had caught some miles back.

By this time nothing could be seen but sea and the evening getting on apace, I looked all round and wondered which way to go. Now the compass would come into operation and I wondered where it was. The engine was started and that was something towards getting home at any rate. It started first pull, and not a word was mentioned about its behaviour up to now, best not tempt providence by doubting. The anchor had to be got in again, I was treated to an exhibition of acrobatics this time by two partcipants, as Joe had to help.

However, it was managed without mishap and we set off for home, or rather we began to move. How the direction was decided on I can't say, most certainly the compass was not consulted and I took it that with sailors it was a sort of automatic thing to know about things like direction and distance and tides and such like. Time would tell and we sailed on, Fred thinking we were just in nice time to catch the tide, so I thought well at least we would get home the same day as we set off. Fred stood by the wheel and Joe and I watched all in good faith.

After about twenty minutes the little motor wanted another rest and stopped again, to the accompaniment of some choice words from our skipper.

"Shall I drop the anchor again?" from Joe. Fred thought not, we would be drifting the right way, and I thought well, if it's got as far as drifting home, we were in a sorry plight. The rope could not be found with which to start the motor and took some minutes to find, where it had been dropped amongst the anchor rope. Of course the light was failing and objects could not be seen so readily.

The motion of the boat was uncomfortable, and I had almost had enough and felt just a little bit sick as people do who are not used to the motion. The rope was wound and pulled all to no avail and we just had to sit and wait until it cooled, as Fred put it. The waves, they were real waves now , were lapping against the side of the boat and the odd one just throwing a little water into the boat as she swung about. I wished they would drop the anchor over again, the boat was much steadier then, and yet I thought perhaps it would be as well to leave well alone rather than watch Fred do everything but go over the side as he had done each time he pulled the thing in again, and now the sea didn't look so inviting as it did earlier in the day. We had a smoke, another drink and after I should think almost half an hour, which may have been only half that, time goes slowly when one is sort of waiting on the fates as we were.

Anyhow the engine came to life again after a little persuasion and once more we were moving, whether in the right direction who could say. Still no sight of land but faintly in the very far distance a light could be seen, and that was very comforting at least to me. It could be anywhere at all as far as I could make out, even somewhere on the French coast or Portsmouth just as easy as Littlehampton. Fred was quite sure it was Bognor, he altered course to suit saying we had drifted a bit off course, and that the tide set that way on this bit of coastline. It all sounded very professional to my ears but not to my mind. I felt sure it was just a shot in the dark, surely we could not have drifted so far to the wrong side of Bognor.

There was no doubt in Fred's mind as to where we were and I felt quite comforted by his assurance. We sailed on, and though the light did not seem to come any closer we were moving, but only for a short time. Further out to sea I caught sight of more lights and when I drew their attention to them I was told it was probably that pleasure boat out of Brighton, and now it was on its way home. It was all lit up with a row of lights along the side and seemed like quite a big boat. It came up quickly and was going to be close to us before very long. I thought we should have some kind of light to show we were also on the wide sea, but was assured it would not come within a mile of us. Looking at it I thought it might easy cut us in two if it kept coming, and it looked as though it was going to do just that.

Then our engine wanted another rest and took command again. We were again at the mercy of wind and sea, and wallowed about broad side on.

More choice words from Fred, and I didn't feel very complimentary either. The lights drew nearer and the pleasure boat, if that's what she was, seemed intent on running us down. She came up to about fifty yards and stopped, put a search light on us and had a good look, wondering no doubt what we were doing floundering about like we were, and obviously in some kind of trouble. Fred gave her a wave and she moved away. I was for getting her to give us a tow or at least asking the way, but Fred was quite shirty when I said so, he knew just where we were.

After quite a while the engine thought it would have another go and started again. We had not dropped anchor this time and so we just moved off, taking a course almost the same as the pleasure boat which I understood was going to Brighton, and the light shorewards did not seem to get any closer. Could we have got such a long way off course? We kept on and the lights at last did seem to be getting nearer.

As we rose on the swell we could see a long row of lights, much too long a row to be Littlehampton and to me much more like Worthing. Fred was all for still going in the direction which the pleasure boat had taken, when a speedboat which we had been hearing for some time came towards us, and in fact went right round us, not very far away either. Fred said some choice words about them dashing about the place like they were, they would kill somebody one of these days, when I thought how we were sailing along without any lights that seemed a possibility. Then our motor stopped again and we were rolling round out of control again.

Fred thought he'd give it up, I must be a Jonah, it had never done this before all the times he'd been out. He'd have something to say to that mechanic when he saw him, what people like him could get us all drowned, call themsleves tradesmen.

I think by this time even Fred was getting worried and wondering what to do. We could at least have a drink, it was getting cold and we might as well drown in good heart so to speak. We had another tot of rum and though it didn't lighten the sky it did our spirits, and after some time they tried to start up again.

As before the engine started again, and the speedboat came along again, this time it came very close and stopped. Shouting through a megaphone they asked if we were alright. Fred, who was stood by the wheel and pointing towards the distant light shouted "Yes, how far to Littlehampton?"

"About three miles, but not that way. Follow us and we'll take you in, we've been watching you for half an hour, you have just about enough time to get in on this tide."

Fred said to Joe and I "Well if we ever get to Littlehampton in that direction I must be a long way from where we should be."

No matter he took their advice and followed them, and soon we could see the river entrance and where we wanted to be. The motor behaved itself and we came to the landing stage without any more trouble, almost twelve hours after we had left it.

Had we been left to ourselves we would most certainly have landed at Shoreham if we had landed at all, and a few times I had had visions of landing somewhere on a deserted beach and walking a mile or so to find out where we were. However all people have some good luck at some time in their life and I thought we had had our share today.

We got home just about ten o'clock and I, who wanted only to get into bed and get my foot comfortable, had to go into the pub and just have one pint of bitter.

"That bottled stuff's alright," said Fred, "but it's too gassy when you drink as much as we had."

They took me home about eleven o'clock and helped me up the steps to my front door and a welcome from Eve. The fish which Eve insisted on cooking right away was lovely, and even took away part of the shock of me having to have the doctor the next day and perhaps losing some work.

When Eve brought me the morning paper up to my bedroom the next morning, on the front page was a report of three men missing in the Channel not very far from here, and I thought how very easy it could have been us. A short storm had sprung up and somehow the boat had overturned.

I had a number of offers to go out with them again but never did, once was enough. But it was a good day if one could forget the uncertainty and the little motor.

Sussex beat Yorkshire, so had I gone to see the game I would have been half disappointed. I never could make up my mind who I wanted to win, but I think I would rather see Yorkshire win.

We had caught nothing as long as the counter, but I was tired, and it wasn't slow.

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