My Father Alfred Wheater belonged to the Brighton Sea Anglers Club before the second World War, and he took me on my very first fishing trip. We gathered at the clubs premises below the Arches. It was a place that smelt of tar and fish and was home to a fascinating array of fishing and boat gear.
A meeting place
I suspect it was also a meeting place for many piscatorial characters but I have no memory of them. Members of the club had their own modest sized clinker built boats and these were towed by a more substantial craft to the fishing grounds some miles off shore. It was very exciting the small boat hissing through the water at speed with the waves hitting the prow and spilling a fine spray over father and me.
Still fishing today
I know we caught mackerel and probably other species as well, but it was the mackerel with their green stripes, silver bodies and streamlined shape that I best remember. Since that day in c.1938/9 I have fished all over the world and continue to do so in Scotland.