The Sea And Me

The sea has its own authority. You don’t need forecasts or screens to know when it’s decided against you. You can hear it in the wind before you open the door. You can feel it in the way the house seems to brace itself, as if it already knows what’s coming. Long before you see the water, you understand that today is not a working day. Out of Eyemouth just now, the sea is dangerous. Huge swells rolling through. Four metre waves lifting and dropping with real weight behind them. This isn’t the kind of rough you work around. It’s the kind you respect. The sea doesn’t announce danger loudly, it shows it. In the way the horizon heaves. In the way the wind tears at the tops of waves instead of brushing them. In the way even experienced hands know better than to test it. When the sea says no like this, you listen. You always listen. That isn’t fear. It’s understanding. There was a time when staying ashore felt like failure to me. If I wasn’t out working, I felt like I was wasting dayligh...

 January in the North Sea is not for the faint hearted. The cold cuts deeper. The decks are slick with ice. Snow blows sideways, driven hard by a wind that never seems to rest. Hands crack, oilskins stay wet for days, and sleep comes in short, broken spells. This is the season that tests you, not just as a fisherman, but as a human being. Yet winter also teaches lessons you won’t learn anywhere else. 1. Respect the Sea, Always The first rule of rough weather is simple: don’t fight the sea . The North Sea doesn’t care how experienced you are, how tough you think you are, or how much work needs doing. In winter, she demands patience and respect. Move slower. Think twice. Secure everything, then secure it again. Rough seas punish shortcuts. What keeps you safe isn’t bravery, it’s discipline . 2. Keep Warm, Keep Dry, Keep Moving Cold steals strength before you realise it. In winter, survival is about layers, routine, and movement: Change wet gloves whenever you can Ea...

  When I watch the sea without judgement, it reveals something important, nothing needs to be controlled. The waves carry their own rhythm, and in surrendering to that rhythm, I breathe more freely. There are mornings when I step onto the deck and the sea is so still, so quiet, that it feels like it’s holding its breath. On other mornings, the wind arrives before I do, tearing through the dark as if reminding me that nothing in this life stays gentle for long. Living on the water has taught me something simple, something I never heard in school or in books, life moves like the sea. It rises, it falls, it crashes, it calms. It never once asks for our permission. Growing up on the Mediterranean and now working these colder northern waters, I’ve learned that fighting the sea is pointless. You cannot force a wave to soften. You cannot bargain with a storm. The sea does not listen to your fears or your hopes. It just is. And strangely, that truth can be a comfort. People often ask ho...

Journey into Scotland’s Sea: The Spirit, Tradition, and Innovation Behind the Fishing Industry For centuries, Scotland’s rugged coasts have been the heartbeat of a proud and enduring fishing industry. As a trawler owner, I’ve witnessed firsthand the relentless spirit, cutting-edge technology, and deep-rooted traditions that keep this sector thriving. Beyond the nets and engines lies a story of resilience, innovation, and passion that runs as deep as the ocean itself. If you’ve ever wondered what truly fuels Scotland’s fishing industry, prepare to explore a world of adventure, heritage, and modern mastery. ⚓ 🗺️ A Heritage Carved by the Sea Long before GPS and sonar, fishermen relied solely on skill, intuition, and intimate knowledge of the sea. This is the essence of Scotland’s fishing heritage. From legendary ports like Aberdeen to the remote islands of the Hebrides , fishing is more than a livelihood, it’s a way of life passed down through generations . These waters have sustained ...

 Keeping My Mind. I’ve been out at sea for the past 15 years now; it’s all I do. I wait for the tide to rise high enough to get the boat out of the Scottish harbour, travel five miles out into the North Sea (the most treacherous sea in the world), and then drop my anchor and grab about three hours of sleep. Of course, I check the weather beforehand, and as much as I try to be careful, the weather can change on a whim. I wish I didn’t have to sleep, but everyone knows that’s impossible. It can be even more dangerous when you’re asleep, not just because the weather can change suddenly, but also because fishing trawlers have a nasty habit of catching fire. There’s a mountain of electrical cabling mixed with a fuel tank containing 2000 litres of diesel, plus other hazards that I won’t bore you with being on board. This is a video I took not long ago, it was of a trawler on fire close to me. So yes, it is the most dangerous job in the world, just one wrong step and it's game over! Yet,...