Beneath Us The Waves

When I was a kid my grandad would sometimes take me stickleback fishing in the foul smelling dene near Boldon Colliery. We used plastic nets tied to bamboo poles, stirring the dark water like teaspoons in a cup-a-soup and throwing whatever miniscule fish we caught straight back into the fast moving slurry. Tomorrow morning I'm going fishing again, this time several miles out in the freezing North Sea with a proper boat, bendy rods and cool bags full of beer. It won't be a pretty sight.