Sat on Southsea Beach eating fish and chips and watched the mackerel fisherman having great success. The mackerel were throwing themselves at his line with every cast.
We fed our left over chips to the gulls and terns. The birds were too lazy to fly up to the chips and raced as they landed on the pebbles. Once we'd stopped feeding them, they went back to fishing for sprats.
There were groups of children using a blanket and a shopping bag to scoop up the tiny sprats the mackerel were hunting and driving up the shoreline.
