The tide was low, even lower than usual because of the effect of the full moon on the tides; and you could walk out past the rocks and the end of the breakwater; and the waves brought in clumps of seaweed… In truth, the prospect of catching any fish wasn’t great… or small, even; rather, it was fairly non-existent. But such trifles do not deter Australian fisher-folk – they are made of hardy stuff.

At Dawlish Post Office (or “One Stop” – the Tesco store with a Post Office counter at the back – very modern England) a little earlier in the day Roland and I met Brian (hero and cyclist from the Leisure Centre).

“Know of any good fishing spots around here?” asked Roland after the introductions.

“How about hiring a boat?” suggested Brian.

“Oh, I’d rather not. I like to sit by the shore and do proper fishing – none of that mackerel fishing, throwing your line in and out,” replied Roly emphatically.

“Well, what about the river at Teignmouth?” Brian looked at me.

“Have you ever caught anything at Teignmouth?” I asked.

“No, I’m more of a cyclist than a fisherman,” explained Brian the cyclist. “What about fishing off the sea wall or the breakwater here at Dawlish. I’ve seen a lot of people fishing here.”

“But have you ever seen anyone catch anything?” I enquired.

“Now you come to mention it… no! But I’m sure that someone must,” Brian laughed.

Encouraged by that thought, a short while later Roland and I made for the part of the beach just down from our house (you can wave to the people on the beach from our terrace). My Aussie friend set  up the rods while I walked out farther than I’ve ever done before and took photographs from the different viewpoint. Within minutes the security man, who is employed to keep the public from wandering past a certain point to where the seawall repairs are still being carried out, came down to warn us not to overstep the mark and then he realised it was his mate Roland. They had a nice chat and the security man went back to his hut. Then a lady came along with her dogs and chatted with us before the security guard made his way down the beach again had a chat with her.

“He likes to chat up the ladies,” said Roland.

“Did he tell you that?” I asked.

“Yes, he loves his job because of all the opportunities he gets with the ladies. Well, we are mates,” he winked.

A boat with a white sail sailed by close to shore and seagulls sat on the exposed rocks; people walked in rock pools while their dogs ran into the sea; and trains passed slowly as they entered or departed Dawlish station.

The tide came in quickly and we repaired to the top of the breakwater. After two and a half hours of fishing we hadn’t caught anything but seaweed and the sun. Did we mind? Of course not – the joys of fishing have little to do with actually catching fish. And here are some of the photo’s…