Nearly 30 years ago, my sea fishing story began on the banks of the River Tyne.

Somehow, I always managed to tag along with my older brother and his friends to fish the famous Customs House at South Shields. We fished no matter the conditions—rain, sleet, sunshine, or even gale-force winds—standing there frozen to the bone, just hoping for a single fish.

I’ll never forget my first ever catch. It was, of course, probably the most common fish along UK shorelines—the whiting. I remember getting tangled up with a friend, and when we both reeled in our rods, our rigs were so badly knotted together it was unbelievable. Somehow, there was a sized whiting still clinging to my hook. I was absolutely buzzing.

With no bag, I carried it all the way home on the Metro and took it to a family member’s house to have it filleted so my mam could eat it—although I don’t think there was much meat on a just-size whiting! I was proud as punch.

As I grew older and moved into my teenage years, a group of friends and I became completely obsessed with fishing—it was like a religion in itself. We would always manage to scrape together some fresh peeler crab, then pedal down for first light to the mighty South Shields Pier, where we were greeted by other fishermen from the local community.

During this time, we learned so much from a gentleman named Bobby Patterson. He devoted countless hours to the younger lads back then, teaching us the basic tactics and skills needed to become proper fishermen. We owe Bob a lot for that—God rest his soul.

Throughout these years, I joined a local club and went on to compete and win trophies at local open competitions in the junior category. I was also lucky enough to tag along on trips to the stunning Highlands in search of different species.

As time went on, I got married and had children. Fishing took a back seat for a while, but the passion never truly leaves you. A key moment came when I took my youngest, Harley, out fishing for the first time at just three years old. He caught his very first tiny codling from the banks of the River Tyne.

That moment brought back so many memories that I decided it was time to go back with a bang. I saved up my pennies, bought my first camper van, and set off to travel properly in search of new fishing adventures.

I was still doing a bit of match fishing, winning some and losing a canny few, but I’d well and truly caught the travelling bug—always looking for new places to explore and new species to target. I’ve spent a lot of time in the North West of Scotland since my teenage years, so if I’m ever asked about my favourite area to fish, the answer is easy: the deep lochs of the Highlands.

We’ve also been lucky enough to venture further afield, fishing the freezing cold fjords of Northern Norway. As a group, we’ve experienced some truly insane fishing and landed fish that will stay with us for a lifetime.

Throughout my adventures, I’ve been fortunate enough to collect so many incredible memories and achieve things I never once dreamed of—from catching the biggest tusk and lumb recorded in European waters to appearing several times on the front cover of the famous Sea Angler magazine.

But for me, none of those achievements compare to my greatest personal moment. Watching my nine-year-old son land his first ever “barn door”—a 109lb common skate—will stay with me forever. With the help of good friends, we managed to land the fish safely, and the emotions I felt that day are impossible to put into words.

To teach my son the very basics that were once passed down to me, and then to watch him go on to achieve such a huge personal best, was truly special. That moment, more than any record or recognition, is one I’ll never forget.