Tuesday, 12 July 2016

In a rhythm

I had to work on Saturday but afterwards the Purple Princess and I hurtled northwards and by dusk were pitching a tent on the Norfolk coast.  I love the long summer evenings and we still had enough light to enjoy a walk on the beach though not enough light to use the cameras.  We’ve camped here many times and expect to see Seals in the surf and sure enough we spotted one before we’d even descended from the dunes.  We walked northwards seeing more and more seals as we did so, after about a mile we climbed up a tide break and we greeted by the sight of a whole group of seals laying on the beach.  Their calls were strange, some high pitched and musical, others deeper almost barks.  We walked slowly forward but didn’t want to get too close and disturb them.  Further along the beach were even more seals around a hundred in all and there were dozens more swimming just off shore.  We made sure we kept a respectful distance and walked along enjoying something we may never see again?  The Seals certainly noticed us and some of the younger ones shifted position, a couple actually shuffled towards us to get a better look.  The sun setting behind the dunes gave the scene an eerie light, we couldn’t manage to capture it on camera but the memory will stay.

After a night in the tent we packed away in the morning and made our way to the staithe.  By midday we were afloat on a bouncy broad, surrounded by yachts.  Through the yachts I opened the throttle; the fresh south westerly threw spray off the bows and temporarily prevented the PP clicking away with a new Nikon.  After a little cruise around I stopped the boat in a sheltered spot and began tackling up.  I fished two open end feeders on helicopter rigs using corn or maggots on 16 hooks on a two foot link.  The groundbait was the remnants of the Expo mix I’d used in the spring, bulked up with more brown crumb and given a good squirt of liquid Brasem.

 With the cuddy half up, the boat nicely organised I tuned in radio 6 and we chilled out with a brew, or at least I tried but bites came to maggots immediately.  I missed a few and hit a few more and caught fish regularly, all Roach up to 4ozs and after a couple of hours I’d not seen a single Bream.  I was already planning to move before the Pink footed Geese starting fighting in front of us.  This plan became solid when one of the combatants launched itself skyward and through my line, dragging my rod and reel out of the boat and across the broad.  Thankfully the bird became untangled and the rod floated. All ended as well as could be expected when I picked the rod up on the way to a second swim.

 A short while later we pulled the boat into a secret, sheltered bay and got everything settled and sorted once more.  I chucked the feeder into a clear area between weedbeds.  The rods were mostly forgotten while I fried brunch and topped up the flasks, when I wound in I found either sucked maggots or a Roach had hung itself.  The day had threatened rain but we only felt a little drizzle on the wind, it stayed bright and breezy making good light for photography and the Purple princess was in her element.  Meanwhile I was in a nice rhythm, recasting regularly and catching fish, mostly small Roach with the occasional Rudd.  It didn’t take long before the rod stayed bent and I boated a Bream of about three pounds, followed quickly by another one a bit smaller.  This pattern continued throughout the afternoon; I caught mostly Roach but from time to time Bream would drift in and I would catch a couple before they wandered off again.  In future I’ll take more bait to hold them in the swim…  All in all it was a good day’s fishing.
 As always in Broadland there were plenty of distractions and photo opportunities that dragged my concentration away from the rod tips.  We saw all manner of wildfowl, in particular another Pink footed Goose which came right up to the boat.  I’m not sure if it was trying to scrounge a feed or if it was trying to make amends for earlier…  We see far fewer birds of prey in the summer but a couple of Marsh Harriers ghosted over.  Dragonflies buzzed by but didn’t stay for a photo.  The bay was ours and only ours, we didn’t see a soul though we heard plenty and no one knew we were there.  Radio 6 came up with some blinding tunes and I was dancing in the boat with Leftfield and Lydon.  We even switched stations just in time for the tie break that led to Andy Murray winning Wimbledon.  I’m no tennis fan but fair play.
It was a lovely afternoon and it was tempting to stay out to watch the sunset but the pub was even more tempting.  We made it in time for a lovely seafood platter washed down with a pint of ‘Ghost ship’.  We somehow ended in in the pub quiz and didn’t disgrace ourselves…  We packed loads into a day and a bit and arrived home late, thoroughly knackered.  We really must do this more often!


Dave Lumb said...

The pinks are in the Arctic for the summer. That goose is a greylag. ;-)

Michael Hastings said...

Well it had pink feet but I'm happy to take your word for it!