Oh my Cod

I have a mild obsession with the sea and those who work with it.

This guy (I never caught his name) was fishing over the side of the pier in the rocky ginnels that jut out beyond it. The sea was messy.

Unlike yesterday's subject, this guy was more than just a keen spare-time fisherman, in fact he won a championship for Scotland's fishing team back in 1998. 20 years experience meant that he knew exactly how to manipulate the shoreline to his own end.

He was stood on the stone bench which is indented into the pier wall. He had calloused hands from years of tugging at line and grappling fish and they were red from the cold. He was apparently very active in the conservation of fish stocks - well, he would be wouldn't he- and was quick to point out the many faults of the preservation enterprises.

Suddenly the top of the rod kicked. He grabbed it near the reel and jumped onto the wall.

"Shit, I think it's aff, oh, hang on, no, aye! it's on! It must swimming in towards me, at a fair speed"

Behind me a small group of camera wielding tourists had gathered round. My little bubble was burst. This is my exclusive! I've been stood here for forty-five minutes in the freezing cold! I started a conversation! He is my mate, not yours!

Finally, he managed to haul it in, a codling, bigger than he thought, but not that big, but big enough to keep and eat. He begged the pardon of the group of paparazzi and thwacked it off the pier wall, spraying blood all over his trouser legs.

I was too overwhelmed by the amount of information I took away from our conversation but he did leave me with a funny snippet whilst loading his car:

"You know, the population's just gonna keep growing and growing, and since they lifted the 3 mile inshore restriction and all that (nor do I), it's just mad, y'know, I wonder at what point people will realise they have consumed all the resources in the world and just be like, "fuck!" when they realise that they can't eat money"