Working on articles for angling publications or for my own site, I tried to portray both Ireland and Wexford in a genuinely positive light. Delivering workshops or guiding, I did it in a way that emphasised the importance of where we were going. I tried to achieve that by making the most interesting photographs and words I could — not only of the fish, but of the people fishing with me, capturing the environment and the moment they found themselves in.

There are many things other than fishing that make a trip to Ireland worthwhile, and it was important to remember that while working as a guide. I wasn’t only looking to capture the trophy moment; I was hoping to record the influences shaping people’s experience of the country they were investing so much personal time in. The culture, the lifestyle, the history of Wexford all played a part in shaping a sense of authentic service.

Against over-selling

I was always conscious that over-selling a product could damage any business, and especially a fishing guiding service. Guided angling services shouldn’t be developed for their singular sense of self-promotion — look at me, I’m a guide.

There’s a fine line between selling the fishing and managing your clients’ realistic expectations. A good guide will always try to strike that balance.

What Wexford actually has

Even after spending a lifetime fishing for bass in these venues, I realised eventually that we were simply scratching the surface of possibility. It was boundless in terms of techniques, methods, presentations.

The paradox

Most seasoned travellers know that to expect too much is to invite disappointment. There are not as many fish as I expected. The fish are smaller than I expected. The weather is different than in my own country. The weather is the major stage on which all the other elements perform, and in Ireland that factor alone is enough to strike fear into any guide. At times it simply isn’t possible to plan. The seasons of 2007, 2008 and 2009 were extremely difficult for bass fishing.

And this is where the paradox lies. Wexford has its unique environments, its own sense of itself, and a superb saltwater sporting fish that performs admirably on fly or lure. But it performs only on the basis of two key elements — one predictable (the moon), the other far less so (the weather).

Bass can be caught by many different methods at different times. All anglers have their preferences, and the more sporting the method, the more the weather will work against it. It forces you into circumstances where you need to angle far more creatively and efficiently. What is achieved easily in bass fishing is often forgotten quickly, with little understanding of its significance — and that is true of technique, of local information, and of presentation.

Wexford was, and remains, challenging. But it has many different rewards, and many of them are hidden.

At times the sun does shine and every fish is big and silver and each cast produces a miracle, or nearly, and memories are forged in good company and surroundings. Is it how you got there? Or is it always the fish?