That's a tidy little inshore crabber in the making...
landing time at the market for Danny and the Twilight on Thursday evening...
visual evidence of how a dropping tide reveals itself in fine weather with seaweed piled up on the beach at newlyn Green - the gaps between the tide lines on the beach further illustrate what is called the 'tidal co-efficient', the degree to which a tide changes between tides varies, Breton trawlermen fishing for langoustine off ornwall use the co-efficient as a guide more so than the height if the tide...
mirror-like morning in Newlyn...
the ever-optimistic resident harbour seal...
Friday's market was heavily supported by the beam trawl fleet with plaice...
red mullet...
and megrims coming from the Cornshman, and Twilight...
inshore Dovers frm young Richard...
while the netter Ygraine landed hake...
and the Britannia V found a few dogs...
to go with their hake...
the Stelissa managed to avoid a bulk haul of dogs this trip...
its crawfish time again...
on a busy market...
Tom made the most of the fine weather with the Milennia...
alongside Dovers from Danny boy...
not so sure the buyers will be so keen to see the boxes stacked like this come picking up time...
there's plenty of ice over all the fish in the hot weather...
fresh blood = fresh fish...
mackerel!...
and a pair of blacker than black lobsters...
what's in the bag?...
one 82kg...
and a handy 91kg bluefin tuna...
young Mr Smith is back landing prime pollack...
ther sardines are here...
and another brace of big bluefin from the Weymouth registered, Ocean Echoes...
good shots of tagged bass finished off the fridge fish this morning...
yachts were berthed everywhere in the harbour overnight, necessitating an early exit for those of them in the big fishing berths, 30ft of plastic is no match for 200 tons of steel beam trawler trying to manouvre in the harbour...
there are a dozen or so designated leisure berths on the pontoons...
this time of year sees an influx of viting boats like the Golden Promise...
astern of the Claude Henry and the Saxon Spirit...
and the Henry Monty...
tons of sardines headed for the processor...
in Redruth.
