Jorge and I drove off from an unusually wet an misty Funchal at 09:30 on our way to Calheta Marina, hoping the weather on the west side of the island would be more conducive with a day's fishing. It was, but only just.
We sat in the boat for about an hour, set up our rigs and asked the rain gods to give us a break.
An hour later the drizzle abated and we set off. Rain clouds above bored down menacingly on us, threatening to drench us at any time.
An hour later I placed my sunglasses down by the rod holder while changing tackle and accidentally knocked them into the sea. Two gluh-gluhs and they vanished from sight, gobbled up by the deep blue. The Atlantic was in a taking mood yesterday; it refused to compensate for my loss by offering at least a few decent fish.
Had it been a sunny day I would have dived in after the shades, but the prospect of sailing for an hour back to port as wet as the miserable handful of undersized fish looking lost in the bucket, put me of the idea.
A couple of hours later we were forced to give up and head back to the marina when the clouds above decided to relieve themselves all over us, soaking us to the bone.
No sunglasses no fish and no dry clothes.
In Madeira we get around 320 sailing days per year - I know - but still..