Mark Taylor and Jeff Tyseer got hold of me awhile back about a Permit mission they doing to Oman’s southern beaches. I imparted what I…
I left north, Ray headed south. He still had time and mine was running out. I wanted a few days of quality Permit fishing. So…
My calves burnt as I sprinted over the soft hot sand. The dry air ripped at my throat. How the hell could a 100m sprint…
When the sport was cigars, egos and Pargo off Cabo He was on a skiff with Westbys, fleeing crabs and wet seas Cathy would find…
Finding myself back on a familiar beach got me thinking. Had I over-reacted? My mother would probably say no. I had left an unwalked beach,…
After a whirlwind of Saudi transitting, catchups with friends in Abu Dhabi and Dubai, it was time to head to Oman. I had met with…
My move to the Qatar was based on a several factors – and strangely, for the first in my life – neither waves nor fish…
Getting soaking wet and full of sand first thing in the morning from my navy seal style entry into the backline was now routine. After…
It had been a few days now, and the writing was on the wall. I was sick to death of being dunked in 3ft shorebreak…
*the next few posts will be out of order, and we be reorganised on conclusion of the series. If satan ran the oceans and not…
