Fishing in skinny jeans.

The seas were a-choppy throughout the whole weekend, but that didn't ease the desire to prove our outdoors manliness. It just upped the ante, in a way.

We were determined to catch fish, in light of the semi-unsuccessful trout catching the night before. And surely joining a boat trip was a failsafe way of doing this.

We geared up, each donning some skinny jeans, extra-tight from last night's rain, and headed down to the harbour after a mean full breakfast.

We dropped the weight down to the bottom, reeled it back up slightly, as directed, and hauled the rod up and down. The skuas sat across from the boat waiting on our failure. A couple of sea-shanties later, still nothing. We switched tactics and tried again, drifting swiftly in the current. By this time the skipper, Drew, was starting to look slightly anxious that our £20 would flit away kipper free.

We trawled by the island in the middle, and when it came to my turn to hold the rod we got a fish on. A dainty (ish) pollack. Outdoorsman challenge: complete.

The skippers felt sorry enough for us, though, that they got us in a couple of rounds at the pub in the evening.

Money which they made back by stitching us up with the winner-stays-on rule on the pool table.

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