Parched

When will the hot weather end?  It’s beginning to feel like never but inevitably the earth spins, seasons change and before we know it, autumn will be here.  What will the cooler months have in store?  More extremes, more storms, biblical rain?  What mugs we are!  Anyway, hot weather doesn’t motivate me to fish any more than freezing cold.  I had one recent trip which was a short evening session on a rising tide at ‘Sandy lane’ with the purple queen as company.  We sat facing the sea, there was an off shore breeze and comfortable temperature.  It was a lovely evening in a glorious setting but the trouble with fishing on sand is everything gets covered in the stuff.  Conditions looked bang on for a Ray but it didn’t happen and I only had one bite all night.  Apart from that I’ve been to Norfolk a couple of times, mostly to do a few odd jobs on the boat and trailer but I’ve also taken to the water afterwards, armed with a float rod.  More on that another day, maybe…

I need to go fishing, it helps me to ground myself in this insane world but I tried to resist until things seemed a little more in my favour. It was still roasting hot when my next day’s off came around but I knew it would be cooler on the beach and with high tide due at 1542 I could fish the ‘Cauldron’ during the slack water period then have a chance of Bass when the tide started to run.  This all sounded fine in theory but this area is hard to predict and can be heaven and hell on the same day.  To give myself a good chance of actually catching something, ragworm would be a must, even so it was hard to feel confident.

I set off later than planned, the drive through the lanes is often eventful and usually pleasant but on this occasion I was struck by the signs of drought.  I’ve never, ever seen the county look this parched and where the local river splits above an old mill the water isn’t going over the weir on one of the courses.  At the coast the marshes were still pretty green but even here some plants are baked to the colour of ripe corn.  The hike in the heat was gruelling but at the shore a fresh southerly kept things comfortable.  I was fishing by 1425 and today I risked over complicating things by fishing three rods.  Two heavy set ups fishing pulley rigs and mostly squid were mounted on the tripod, I planned to vary the distances cast depending on the state of the tide and began fishing at medium range or what looks to me like two to three cricket pitches.  The other one was a Bass rod which I walked slightly uptide and cast into deep water close in.  This I walked back beneath the other two rods and propped it at an angle using an attachment I’d recently bodged.  If I hooked a fish on this I’d have to walk slightly left initially then back to the right, beneath the other lines.  It probably sounds complicated but actually worked in practice and I had the chance to chance to test it within half an hour.  A small Bass came skipping up the shingle and it was most welcome!

With the pace of the tide easing my casts on the heavy set ups kept getting a bit further and after an hour I was able to fish one rod as far out as I could chuck it.  Ironically it was the other rod fishing a bit closer in that was in the action next.  First up a Bass of about a pound or so on squid then half an hour later a proper relentless bite which really was impossible to miss.  There was a decent weight on the end and it thumped the rod over a few times but was in close very quickly.  I wasn’t sure what it was until a retreating wave left a good sized Thornback high and dry.  This was a cracking fish of six pounds, it didn’t look that big to begin but was really thick but I don’t know if this was all muscle or recent food.  This rod had barely settled on the tripod before the long range one started banging.  I hooked this one too and started to pull another decent weight back towards me, it was obviously a substantial fish but it felt different to the previous one.  With the fish in close it started running parallel to the shore, first to my left then back up past me to the right and with the fish in only inches of water I could see a Smoothound go past me, what a sight!  I managed to haul it onto the stones, then put the rod down to pick it up.  Before I could do so it had unhooked it self and wriggled back into the sea.  I’ d guess it was around four pounds or so and was a little disappointed not to get a photo.

I managed to hold bottom at range for a couple more casts but as the ebb grew stronger all three rods had to be fished in the first forty yards or so.  Things went quiet but I couldn’t care less, the trip had gone far better than I had hoped and I felt I was still in with a chance.  About ninety minutes into the ebb things started happening again.  I had a couple of rattles on the heavier rods but most of the action came on the Bass rod, fishing ragworm close in.  Every few minutes I’d get a rapid, banging bite, some hooked themselves, some didn’t and when I packed up a couple of hours later my total had reached nine but all were small, eight to twelve ounces.  I’ve caught a few bigger Bass at this spot but they didn’t show up tonight, even so I have no complaints.

After a few iffy weeks on the beaches it was good to have a confidence boost, everything went pretty much to plan for a change and hopefully there will be a few more chances to try again before the seasons change.  The trick will be staying patient and waiting for the right tide and favourable weather.

Heatwave

We used to call it global warming, for some reason nowadays we call it climate change, either way there are still people who refuse to believe it, saying it’s all a hoax.  Coincidentally many of these people believe in the trickle down economy and considering the amount of evidence they choose to ignore, presumably a flat earth too.  Whatever, I cannot remember such a run of high temperatures this early in the year and it’s been too hot for fishing really but I can’t resist going anyway.

After a Saturday shift finished I made my way to the river, I knew where I wanted to fish on a hot humid evening, the shade of the ‘squirrel bridge’ would be perfect.  However, when I got there I carried on walking towards the perfect pool at the far end of the stretch.  I’ve made this long walk a couple of times and the swim looks bang on but I’ve never had a bite there.  Tonight would be the night so I carried on in the oppressive heat, pushing through head high nettles and eventually made it to the pool, which didn’t look anything like as good as it had in my mind.  I gave it forty five minutes here without a bite then loaded up and done the hike again in reverse.  Back on familiar ground I realised how low the river was and this often prolific swim appeared lifeless.  Another three quarters of an hour without a bite confirmed this and I had to reflect on my decision making.

I had a few days off in early July, the plan was me and Rich would head out west for a couple of days but the closer we got, the worse the weather ahead looked.  It was too late to cancel the days off so we decided to carry on regardless, knowing full well it we would most likely struggle.  We reached the happy valley in the early afternoon and headed straight for a pub instead of the river.  After a welcome pint and a bite to eat we were refreshed and ready to go.  In the heat of the afternoon we found ourselves humping our gear along a stretch which is slowly becoming familiar.  The valley looked glorious, bathed in the brightest light. The afternoon was just as slow as we’d expected but I was confident the stretch would come alive as the light levels dropped.  This didn’t really happen but we managed a bite apiece and a Chub each, mine was a couple of pounds or so but in mint condition whilst Rich’s was an old warrior of over four pounds.

We pitched up at a picnic area and spent the night on bedchairs under brollies and had a surprisingly comfortable kip.  The following morning we made it back to the river on a cooler, murky morning and the river looked lovely.  The fish didn’t agree though as neither of us had a bite despite a covering a bit of water with a couple of moves.  By lunchtime I was back at the car where I spent a couple of hours having a siesta in the shade of my brolly then got everything sorted and ready for the evening.

For some reason I walked in the heat once more, to the upstream end of the stretch.  Over the next few hours I worked my way back downstream, catching up with Rich along the way.  Both of us had seen taps and tremors in the rod tips but neither of us had seen any proper bites.  With a couple of hours left we decided to pitch up side by side in a large swim I’d fished early morning.  I’d not had a touch then but this evening we started getting rattles straight away and the river really did come alive.  I had the first proper bite but missed it then on the recast the tip banged over and I found myself straight in a snag.  While I was clipping on a new hooklength and cursing, Rich had a Chub of a couple of pounds then followed this up with another that was a little smaller.  Then it was my turn again; thump thump on the tip, I found myself holding a rod in full bend with a tick, tick, tick on the clutch…  Barbel!  I started to gain line but it felt all wrong, I could feel something grating.  I hoped it was weed but no, the line parted on what was almost certainly a rock.

And that was our lot.  A day and a half of slogging in the heat then a couple of magical hours that were as eventful and exciting as fishing gets, the sense that anything could happen at any time.  I’d caught bugger all, lost a decent fish in a snag yet still I’d still loved it.

Back on home turf, my next trip came the following week, the heat was still suffocating the east and it was hard to get motivated to do any fishing but with an evening tide and half a pound of ragworm I fancied my chances of a Bass and maybe a Ray at the shallow beach.  The fresher air at the coast was as tempting as the fishing and was enough to convince Giles and daughter to join me.  It was a lovely evening on the beach but a north easterly had picked up and any chance of a Ray was gone, and as it turned out the Bass weren’t too keen either.  I managed three small ones but Giles had the fish of the night with a Sole, a species we rarely see.

2026 started with what at the time felt like endless days of rain making rivers unapproachable for weeks.  Now we’re stuck in this spell of oppressive heat but looking at the forecast it appears we’ll get a few days of cooler weather, or perhaps less roasting is a better description?  What we really need is rain but judging by the forecast this is unlikely until the end of the month at least so I don’t know when I’ll get the rods out next, I’m sure the urge will come at some point not too far away.

Dodgy June

 

Everything looked good for a trip to the shallow beach, an off shore breeze and a late evening high tide and as I hadn’t been there for a while, I couldn’t resist.  My target fish tonight would be Rays, for some reason I don’t catch many Hounds here but I always hope.  Whilst setting up I noticed someone in a gin palace had got it wrong on the way into the estuary, they were stuck on a sand bar for hours.  I didn’t notice them leave, just looked over and saw the boat had gone but by then it was almost dark.

I had a proper bite on my first cast and had a hell of a job hauling the fish back towards me, obviously a Ray but a much smaller fish than I expected appeared in the edge.  I hoped for more Rays but had a quiet couple of hours before the Dogfish started banging the rod tip.  I had three in no time then it went quiet and after a couple of retrieves brought back untouched baits I called it a night.

On a Saturday evening I had just enough time for my first trip on a river since the season had opened.  I was well into my journey before I realised I’d left the landing net in the shed.  I’ve been in this predicament before and knew one spot I could get in the river, should I hook a fish.  If this spot was taken…

Thankfully this was not the case and I settled into the ‘squirrel bridge’ around 1840.  This had been a consistent spot in the past two summers but the nature of the swim has changed lately.  I didn’t have much choice but fish here so didn’t pay it much attention; there was still a slightly deeper pool below me, screened by nettles.  I fed a few grains of corn every now and then as I got set up then swung a feeder rig baited with corn downstream and the tip started knocking from the off.  I missed two decent bites before I connected and a nice Chub plodded around in front of me.  I slid down the bank and into the water then took my time, letting the fish go upstream and eventually guided the fish onto the mat which I’d half submerged just in case.  It actually worked quite well.  I needed forceps to remove the hook, I wasn’t going to miss that bite!  Then slipped a fish of three pounds or so back into the river.  I didn’t get anymore bites after that but carried on for another hour, with nowhere else I could feel safe fishing without the net I decided to call it a day.

It might just be me but I’ve found late June has always been dodgy on the beaches, inconsistent at best and at worst a waste of time.  My motivation to give it a go are the Smoothounds, just one bite from one of these would make it worthwhile.

Two weeks had passed since my last try so I went back to the beach I’d caught from then, by now we were at the beginning of the roasting, record breaking heatwave but I knew it would be more tolerable by the sea.  I fished the usual methods; crab or squid cast varying distances which has been good for a few bites all spring.  But not on this occasion.  My one nibble of the evening came an hour after high tide and I thought I had a small Hound hanging on the end but on closer inspection this was different.  It wasn’t quite a foot long but was much more plump towards the head and the mouth was more forward, as opposed to underneath like a hound.  Also the mouth was lined with tiny needle teeth so I think it must have been a tiny Tope, my first ever.     

I’d hoped the ebb tide would be productive but this was not the case and the England match on the radio didn’t enliven anything so I got away earlier than planned.  I tried once more a week later but fished five hours and didn’t get a rattle.  I’ll probably do better fishing for Bass for a few weeks but before that the rivers are calling.

Kaleidoscope skies

I pitched up once more, three hours before high tide on a grey breezy morning that threatened rain. Not a nice summer day but conditions I welcomed as I hoped it would keep the beach quiet.  Despite the weather there were already four anglers fishing before me but all were spread out and I managed to set up pretty much where I’d intended, with space enough to be the anti social git that I am.  I was fishing by 1020, exactly three hours before high tide was due, starting off with two rods both fishing pulley rigs, baited with crab or squid.  The sea in front of me was grey and lumpy with noisy waves rolling in, not too rough for Rays or so I hoped but far different to my last visit.  For once I’d brought a third rod with me on which I intended to leger the leftover ragworm from my previous go for Bass.  I’d bodged an attachment onto the tripod on which I could prop the rod but realised I could clip on a bell and lean it on the shelter which would space the lines out more.  I delayed casting this rod as the flood tide was carrying a lot of weed which threatened to be a problem on the two rods I was already using.  As it turned out the weed wasn’t as troublesome as it looked and disappeared completely after a couple of hours.

I wasn’t expecting to catch much early on as most action had been coming on the ebb at this location.  I’d got here early so I’d have choice of where to set up and I used the time to get a load of rigs baited up and bound with elastic, some of these were put in a tub and back in the cool bag in case things got hectic later.  I wondered if doing this might jinx things.  I gave the first few casts a long soak and the baits came back nibbled/crabbed but with enough meat left to tempt a fish. There was movement on the rod tips but nothing overtly fishy and I put it mostly down to tide and wind.  A few minutes before midday I looked south and could see dark clouds approaching.  I watched a band of rain flattened water getting ever closer and had time to layer up and get organised before the first of a few short sharp showers arrived.

My first bite came on squid at 1235, forty five minutes before high tide.  I wound into something solid that took a bit of hauling to get it to come towards the shore.  Whatever was on the end felt heavy and I hoped for a Hound but this fish wasn’t running and sure enough a Ray of a couple of pounds slid up the slope.  I like catching Rays but when I’m hoping for a Hound they come as a bit of an anti climax, which is bloody daft really.  This fish had behaved as a lot of Rays do, it hung in the water with its nose pointing upwards so it would resemble a kite on a string.  They feel twice the weight when you have to drag them in like that but when in close often pop up on the surface so you’re quick they can be winched in quickly.  This fish amazed a couple that were hiking along the beach but was soon back beneath the waves wondering what the hell had just happened.

High tide came and went but ten minutes after, another bite on squid produced a good sized Dogfish and shortly afterwards a bite on Ragworm had me winding in a small Bass.  The rods baited with squid were rattling every now and then but the next bite I was able to strike came on ragworm.  I thought I’d missed it but there was a tiny Eel on the end, thankfully lip hooked it was soon back in the sea.  Four fish, four different species.  Ten minutes later I had another good bite on squid and pulled into a familiar heavy resistance.  Pumping these fish back to the beach is all the workout I need ta very much, it was no surprise to see another similar sized Ray revealed by a retreating wave.  I’d barely got this rod back out when the other ‘big rod’ was bending and I was in another, similar scrap.  This fish definitely didn’t want to come in and I began to think I was attached to a big Ray.  When it eventually appeared it was bigger than the first two but not by a lot!

That was my last action of note and I sat on the beach for a couple more hours.  After the first blank hour had passed I figured it unlikely I’d catch much else but I stayed put to let the traffic die down a bit.  When I looked inland there were filthy grey storm clouds travelling south to north, somebody was obviously getting a soaking.  Time to pack up but once the shelter was down I realised the wind was now coming from a more westerly direction and those ominous clouds might come too close for comfort.  Everything else got packed away and humped across the beach in record time and I was safely on the road before any substantial rain fell.  On the drive home it became apparent just how much rain had been dropped, just a few miles inland I was driving through big puddles and later had to crawl through flooded rods but when I reached home it looked like they’d barely seen a raindrop.

After a restless, agitated morning I loaded the car and head east then endured a slow, frustrating drive but once on the last leg and deep into green country I was able to relax. I was settled in the beach shelter behind the tripod by 1525, three hours before high tide.  At the moment my fishing is repetitive in a way, I arrive early to give myself a good choice of where to set up and time to get organised before things hopefully get hectic.  My methods remain the same too, pulley rigs baited with squid or crab thrown varying distances from the beach.  The day had been a mixture of sunshine and sharp showers and this continued into the evening.  There was a fresh westerly wind but pitched up below the last ridge I was sheltered and the sea looked surprisingly flat, the waves breaking weren’t too big.  It actually looked like better conditions for a Ray than last week when I’d managed to catch three but just like last week what I really wanted was to catch a Smoothound.

The afternoon passed with weather more spectacular than the fishing, a couple of storms saw me sitting deep in the shelter, these cleared away to bright sunshine and kaleidoscope skies.  As high tide neared I started to see short pulls and rattles on the rod tips but nothing I could strike.  At 1830, just after hightide I had a banging bite on squid and pulled into something with a bit of weight and a lot of spirit.  The closer it got the more I began to think it might be… and when it ran parallel to the shore line I was pretty sure.  Sure enough I pulled a Hound up the beach and it was my biggest of the year so far!  Like the others this thing didn’t stop wriggling making it difficult to snap a decent photo but I got one in the end.  I was well happy with that and didn’t care if I caught another fish all evening but as the minutes passed I dared to wish for another.

An hour passed then the same rod, this time baited with crab, was banging again, a proper bite which you can’t mis and this time I didn’t.  The fish felt similar to the first and I had to follow this one along the surf, yes another Smoothound, slightly bigger than the first.  Most of the Hounds I’ve caught have stars along their backs but this was one of the few that don’t.  Apparently these are different species but the grow to roughly the same size and look identical, apart from the stars.  I tried a self take for a change which didn’t come out bad but they’re still hard to hang on to.

Dare I hope for a hat trick?  Of course I did but it didn’t come off.  I fished on until dusk watching colourful clouds above off shore storms travelling roughly north.  I had a few more bites and caught three Dogfish which on the one hand are very similar to Smoothounds but on the other, nothing like.  Well I know what I mean.  The tips were still showing the occasional rattle but by 2200 I was knackered and decided to get myself home at an almost reasonable time for a change.  All was going to plan but I’ve had a few annoying return journeys lately and they don’t come much more infuriating than a fucking flat tyre.  Didn’t spoil my day though.

Trying to catch both

Late spring has been busy.  It's a good time for Bass and the Smoothounds start to show up too.  I want to catch both and with the long hours of daylight and a bit of juggling I've been able to give it a good go.  It takes a bit of effort and a bit of thought, I try to make the best of the time available and make my decisions on the tide and conditions.  I don't always get it right, maybe it would be boring if I did? 

Another daytime tide saw me arrive at my least favourite beach thinking I was likely to be surrounded by anglers and bothered by Dogfish all day.  But if I want to have a chance of catching a Hound I have to fish where I’m most likely to catch them and if the beach is busy, try to ignore everything around me and put up with the Dogfish!  Fishing is quite simple really, it’s me that often over complicates things.  With high tide due at 1448 I was fishing by 1215 with two rods fishing pulley rigs and baits from the freezer.  The day was a mixture of sunshine and cloud with the possibility of a shower, there was a fresh westerly wind but this was on my back, still I needed the shelter for comfort.    There was one angler to my left and a couple to my right and they seemed to be into fish on both sides but I had a slow start.  My first bite came around 1330 and I was briefly attached to a fish of some kind but it dropped off.

Another quiet hour passed but as high tide approached I started to get proper bites and had two Dogfish in ten minutes.  I expected this to be the start of something but the action stopped again.  At 1530 I tried something different, a butchered peeler crab wrapped in squid was attached to my pennel.  This is said to be a top bait for several species but I don’t seem to catch much at all on them, however what I have caught includes a few memorable fish.  After ten minutes the rod baited with crab literally folded over and I was attached to something of a similar weight to the Dogs but this was fighting differently.  I say fighting but with the heavy tackle in use, a fish of this size cannot really resist but it was having a go!  Maybe a Bass?  Maybe a…  Yes! A little Smoothound, my first of the year.  This was a small one but even on the beach it didn’t stop fighting, it writhed and twisted constantly like an Eel until it was slipped back into the sea.

After that I had rattles on just about every cast but few proper bites but I was content having caught what I set out for.  Even the small Hounds are cool creatures and I can’t catch enough of them!  I fished on till around 1815 and caught a couple more Dogfish and may well have caught a few more but I’d had enough.

For once I’d got my act together and organised all the gear which enabled me to be in the car and away within thirty minutes of finishing work.  Into town for ragworm and out again to pick up Rich.  We took the A roads, the long way round and a far more tedious drive but after we progressed to narrowing roads cutting through woodland the rat race was left behind.

After the long hike we were fishing two rods each around 1830, an hour into the ebb.  At home the weather had been baking hot and still but here facing the salt there was a cool northerly which had us layering up almost as soon as we got there.  Once settled and comfortable we took the tops off cold beers and sat back to chill, chat and chuckle which we did successfully for the rest of the evening.  We had three spells of bites, firstly a couple in full daylight, several more in the dusk period and a few more after dark.  We missed a few, lost a couple but managed to land nine between us although there were no decent ones tonight.  The weirdest thing of the evening was the lobster that Rich managed to catch, the first either of us had ever seen outside of a restaurant tank.

The walk back was uneventful this time but once in the car we soon saw a Badger followed by Deer and Rabbits, as usual the countryside had come alive after dark.

What should have been a relaxing day turned into a busy one which is not what you need when the temperature has gone past 30*C.  I got everything done and got on the road around 1615, a bit early really but it meant I’d miss the worst of the traffic.  With the weather as it was I knew the coast would be busy but with the evening approaching people were starting to head home and I managed to squeeze into the car park.  There were still plenty of day trippers about so I loaded up and took a long, taxing hike south, crunching across the stones.  I was surprised to find myself the only angler on the beach, do the others know something I don’t?

I was set up with two pulley rigs around 1720, the North Sea was as flat and blue as I’d ever seen in and was pretty clear too.  With high tide due at 2048 I expected a long wait before anything happened but here at the coast it was much fresher than it had been at home so it was comfortable sitting staring at the sea with the sun behind me.  There was not a breath of wind and the rod tips were still, I could expect to see a rattle if a fish so much as sniffed my bait.  The Gulls home in on anglers here, they’ve learned they can beg a feed out of people kinder than me.  I had a Herring gull comically circling me on foot, never getting too close but near enough to dart in and steal some bait if I dropped my guard.  Later this was replaced by a Black headed gull who was noisy and annoying so was chased off.

Time passed and the tips remained still.  The flat sea made me think a Ray might be on the cards but what I really want at this time of year is another Hound.  It’s always difficult to tear my eyes away from the rod tips but the flat sea gave me clues.  I saw fishy swirls on a couple of occasions and later a couple of tiny silver fish leapt.  I thought maybe Bass were active but this isn’t a beach I associate with this species, still I wasn’t getting any action and the baits were mostly coming back untouched.  As high tide approached it looked like a blank was on the cards and I decided I’d give it till 2200 then get away if nothing happened.

With high tide came a cool breeze from the east which ruffled the surface for the first time and a few minutes later the bites started and didn’t stop!  Four hours of inactivity was followed by two hours when I barely got a chance to sit down.  I had plenty of choice for bait; squid, mackerel, crab and ragworm but it didn’t matter what I chucked out, it all got eaten.  I started with a Dogfish on each rod then had a slamming bite on rag which was a small Hound which didn’t stop fighting.  After that I had a decent sized Whiting but other than that it was Dogs all the way.  During the quiet early evening I’d have been glad of a Dogfish but by 2300 my tally had reached ten, I was knackered and I’d had enough so that was my lot. 

Another early finish at work gave me time to get out to the coast for another go for the Bass.  In truth it had been a bit disappointing to this point, I’d caught a few Bass but none of any great size.  My favourite estuarine spot had been consistent for keeper size fish through the previous two springs but so far this year the bigger ones hadn’t shown up.  With high tide due just before midnight I had plenty of choice but I liked the idea of fishing the flood and dropping baits close in, near to the structure the retreating tide had exposed on my last couple of visits.  State of tide aside, another thing that this spot has in its favour is it always seems to switch on when it gets dark, whatever the tide is doing.

I was fishing by 1830 using two lighter rods, both rigged up with simple running leger rigs baited with ragworm.  The evening was mostly clear with a gentle easterly breeze blowing into my face.  Last week we’d had flurries of bites throughout the evening but that wasn’t the case tonight and nothing happened until around 2000 when the sun was hidden and the area fell into shade.  This came in the form of fast rattles which had stopped before I’d even lifted my arse from the chair and as the minutes ticked by it looked like it wasn’t going to happen tonight.  Finally at just before 2200 I had a proper bite and wound in a small Bass.  After that bites came regularly; I missed plenty but hooked a few too, the highlight being an a lovely lump of silver that wasn’t quite three pounds.  Apart from that I had a couple more smaller Bass and an Eel.

The bites seemed to stop at high tide when the water went slack but just as I was beginning to tidy up a rod slammed over and I was attached to another fish, not another big Bass but a second small Eel.  That was enough, it was gone midnight and I had a good hike back to the car ahead of me before a forty minute drive across the county.  At least it should have been but for a bloody closed road and diversion, don’t get me started…

 

Different days, different beaches

When my next time off came round I couldn’t decide what to do.  I probably should have fished an estuary for Bass as it is still a bit early for Hounds but as much as I like the tranquil estuary areas it’s usually Bass or bust.  I mostly prefer fishing the open beaches for the variety of species that can turn up, you never know what might turn up.  Also if I really want to catch Smoothounds I have to fish where I’m most likely to encounter them and be prepared to sit it out. 

I had time to kill so turned up early and got settled into the cosy shelter to watch the world float on by.  The first couple of hours were quiet and I was distracted by a cheeky Herring Gull which was far too comfortable coming right up close. Whenever I was distracted, winding in or getting ready to cast, it headed straight for the shelter and my bait bag.  I soon got the hump with this and chased it off and thereafter kept a watchful eye on anything winged and vaguely white.  My second close encounter was with a large seal that seemed to be patrolling up and down the shelf in front of me.  No wonder I wasn’t getting any bites.

Time ticked on and the sea rose up the slope, the high tide period is usually best at this location and for a couple of hours either side of high water I had constant action, bites and rattles on squid fished at any distance.  I’d chosen this dramatic shingle beach hoping for variety but as it turned out I caught more of the same, another good size Whiting and loads more Dogfish. 

This kind of fishing is no longer an interesting novelty but by putting up with it I put myself in with a chance of a Hound and if I manage to catch one or two of these this year it’ll be worth it.  That said it’s probably still a bit early for Hounds and I fancy a change, using some lighter gear for Bass in the near future appeals to me.

My next trip came a few days later, I finished a gruelling shift, got ready in a hurry, then had a frustrating trip into town which was unavoidable because I had some ragworm to collect.  After that I had an even more tedious drive out of town and eastward but eventually broke free into countryside and began to feel myself again.  Tonight I was after Bass at a lovely spot on an estuary reached by a good hike through another marsh.  As I walked, I heard a cuckoo for the first time this year and spotted three deer which obviously felt safe strutting around in broad daylight, two just tried to stare me out but the third slowly crouched into the reeds until only its ears were visible.

I was set up at 1830 using lighter gear for a change, my usual Bass rod as well as a Greys Pike rod pared with a crappy Nash baitrunner which I’d put on a rod for the kids to use years ago.  On both rods I used a running leger with a long hooklength ending in a size 1 long shank hook, bait on both was ragworm.  High tide had been and gone but I don’t much bother with the tide at this spot as in previous years the onset of darkness had been key.  The evening was mostly clear and bright to begin with but the northerly breeze was chilling and I positioned my chair so this was on my back.

I didn’t expect anything much in daylight but I moved the rods around regularly dropping baits into various spots in the slacker water on the near side.  As the tide dropped I realised I’d gone too far right and the water I’d be fishing would be dry mud flat soon, so I moved into slightly deeper water.  The birdlife was interesting, Oyster Catchers are fairly common in these locations but I saw Avocet too and I can’t remember seeing these too often here. Things started to happen around 2000 with fishy rattles on both rods but these didn’t develop.  On the next few casts I had little plucks and rattles but nothing to strike at, I wound in a crab which was a clue to the culprits.  I’d assumed I just needed to turn up here and fish into dark and I’d catch but as the light faded I began to wonder if I’d got it wrong, a blank began to seem inevitable.

Four hours into the ebb I started to see signs, fish swirling close to the bank in about eighteen inches of water.  I’ve seen Bass in close here before and caught one or two small ones so using the Greys rod I under-armed a rig about a rod length out.  A few minutes later the tip was wrenched over then straightened, how do you get a slack liner with just five or six yards of line out?  I still had to wind a couple of turns to make contact with something charging around in circles on a short line, yanking the rod over as it did so.  The fish had nowhere to go and I managed to heave it onto the shingle but it wasn’t a Bass!  Bugger me I’d caught my first ever Mullet which was long, muscular and shiny, much cooler than the one that had sat on my head in the eighties.  It weighed 2-08 and I wish I’d taken more time with the photos.

Twenty minutes later the same rod banged again but I should never take these unmissable bites for granted.  Another half an hour passed before I had another chance and this time I did connect with a Bass of about a pound but that was my lot.  The rod tip action went back to annoying plucks and tremors and I didn’t get another proper bite despite fishing till about 2330.  In hindsight I probably should have paid more attention to the tide as by the time I packed up the outward flow was as slow as I’ve seen it here.  Most trips here leads will be shifted and the rig bounced down tide but this didn’t happen at all tonight.

Walking in these quiet parts of the county is interesting after dark as the natives come out to forage.  My head torch had been picking out Bats at the shore but on the walk back they reflected the eyes of Deer in the marsh.  About half way back to the car there was a sizeable lump on the bridleway in front of me, as I got closer it became apparent the lump was alive and moving.  Then the torch beam made it clear I was looking at the rear end of a Badger.  I slowed my stride and started scraping my feet as I didn’t want to surprise the animal but it was unaware or unbothered.  I stood still and because I didn’t know what else to do I said loudly; “Badger!  Fuck off!”  I swear the creature turned its head to look over its shoulder, seemed to do a double take then trotted down the path increasing speed as it did so.  That’s probably the closest I’ve ever been to a live Badger and honestly, coming across a big mammal when you’re alone in the dark is unnerving.

Things were surreal back at the car as the key didn’t want to work to begin with but I managed to get in and enjoy the drive home, regularly slowing for Rabbits and even more Deer.  Spring in Suffolk is wonderful but the majority of people are surrounded by all this stuff and rarely notice it, if ever.  We anglers know how lucky we are.

Another day a different beach but which one?  With high tide due at 2020 and a nice off shore breeze, I fancied my chances in three different places so where should I go?  I had a bit of ragworm left which made it sensible to go somewhere these might be effective, did the tail wag the dog?  The cauldron is a tricky spot to fish, you never know what conditions will be like until you get there but I figured I had a good chance of Bass and unlike the estuaries there’s a chance of catching almost anything.  I hiked across yet another marsh with the west wind on my back, the afternoon was clear and bright but cloud was building and showers were forecast for the evening meaning I had to carry the shelter.  The countryside is bursting with life at the moment, I seem to see Deer wherever I go and another one burst through the reeds today.

I was fishing by 1610, sitting at the top of a steep slope looking down at a flat but boiling sea.  Tonight I reverted to my normal heavy rod/light rod set up.  On the former it was the usual big bait but due to the strength of the current here I wouldn’t be able to give it a big chuck until later on, when the tide went slack.  On the Bass rod I used the regular running leger rig baited with ragworm cast no further than twenty yards and often just under-armed out into the deep water close in.  I didn’t expect much to begin with but within half an hour the heavy rod wobbled and I hooked something with a bit of weight.  You never know what you’ll catch at this spot but of course it was yet another Dogfish.

I can never predict how things will go at this spot, (more than any other!) but tonight I expected to catch Bass as the tide peaked and darkness fell.  I sat in the comfort of the shelter watching the rod tips but often distracted by the birdlife; more Oyster Catchers and Avocet along with what I now know to be a Wood Sandpiper.  The highlight was a large shape that soared overhead, it dawned on me that what I was looking at was a large bird of prey.  Just how big was difficult to tell given there was nothing to give it scale.  Having compared the silhouette with a diagram in my RSPB book, it could well have been a White-tailed Eagle, I don’t know what else it could have been?  This was a welcome distraction as none was coming in the form of bites.  I was quite glad of this during the twenty minutes or so of squally rain that blew through and had me sat right at the back of the shelter.

An hour before high tide, at around 1910, I had a proper bite on the light rod and found myself attached to a spirited fish, a Bass of around a pound or so.  This came pretty much on time and I expected regular spells of action over the next couple of hours and into darkness as fish moved in and out but unfortunately this didn’t happen.  I had a few fast rattles on ragworm and when I was able to fish at range, a couple of knocks on squid, one of which resulted in yet another Dogfish.  By 2230 I was done and soon had the gear packed away and loaded on my shoulders.  I’ve fished this area enough to know my way around so have no excuse for taking the wrong path and almost losing myself in the marsh.  Thankfully I realised my mistake before going too far and managed to get back on the right track and accompanied by the calls of owls, hiked back to the car.

East winds

After my last successful visit to the beach things just wouldn’t fall into place, when I had the time off the conditions were all wrong.  Strong onshore winds do nothing for the fishing, make the chances of a Ray almost nil and make life bloody uncomfortable while you’re struggling on the beach.  All of the above is accepted fishing logic which I have reinforced through learning the hard way but this spring I didn’t bother.  I considered fishing an estuary but I’m struggling to get my hands on ragworm at the moment and it’s pointless trying for Bass without.  So for the first time this spring I did a bit of coarse fishing and visited a venue I’d not yet fished, this is because I didn’t think it was my cup of tea and I was right.  The water itself, a small pit, is actually quite nice; steep sided therefore sheltered and nicely tree lined.  The trouble is it’s located close to some industrial units and the noise was constant, I think I’d have relaxed more braving the easterly wind on the beach…  I float fished sweetcorn over a bed of hemp which is a simple and effective and had a few rapid bites that I was way to slow for, apparently there are crucians in here?  I did hit one bite and the float rod bent nicely as something with spirit pulled away on the end, I was happy to scoop a little Tench up in the net.  I can’t remember the last one I caught, it’s been at least ten years and not for want of trying!  If you’d offered me a single Tench when I set off, I’d have taken it so no complaints but I doubt I’ll be back.

Eventually things appeared to fall in my favour, after a few bright, breezy, clear days I had a mild cloudy evening with a light onshore breeze.  With high tide due around 0100 I arrived at the shallow beach around 1900 and was greeted by a mostly sandy expanse that has changed subtly since my first visits this year.  Crucially the sea was flat with small waves and I set up eagerly thinking the chances of a Ray were good.  I started off set up half way down the gentle slope but showers were forecast and I’d brought the shelter which I erected above the tideline.  The first heavy shower came earlier than expected and saw me scurrying to rehome myself in comfort.

My first bite came after an hour, a good thump on a whole squid which resulted in a slight fishy presence on the line that was actually my first Bass of the year.  After that I had a couple of hours without a decent bite for which I was almost grateful as the weather was pretty unpleasant.  The only thing of note in this period was a strange, bedraggled figure appearing through the gloom which was actually Giles having his first trip to the Beach for some time.  Three hours before high tide, an almost full moon had risen, the rain had mostly cleared away and the tips started to rattle regularly.  The action was never as hectic as on previous evenings but regular enough, however it was Whiting and Dogs all the way, the Rays didn’t show.  Apparently they move up the estuaries to spawn at this time of year and having consulted the diary I later realised I’ve never caught a Ray from this beach in May. 

We fished till after midnight by which time we’d both caught enough decent sized Whiting to make a decent feed back home.  The drive home was a pleasant one with loads of animals on the move along the lanes.  There were dozens of rabbits, a barn owl ghosted across the road, a badger gave me a glare before slipping into a hedge and I had the stop the car to allow groups of deer to cross on three occasions.

 “Through the fish’s Eye – An anglers guide to fish behaviour”  Written by Mark Sosin and John Clark.

On the face of it I thought this should be an interesting read, which it was for the most part.  I hadn’t heard of the authors but Sosin is an angling writer and tackle consultant while Clark has a degree in fishery management.  Both are American, as are most of the species discussed although in fish behaviour there are bound to be obvious parallels with European species.  The book was first published in 1973 and this version for the British market came out in 1976 and was edited by Fred J. Taylor.  Other than being a legend of British angling from times mostly before I was a regular angler I know little else about FJT.  He was amongst one of the first UK anglers to be successful with deadbaits for Pike but other than that I don’t know what he contributed to British angling nor what he caught.  There’s some future reading…

I expected FJT’s introduction to literally introduce the authors to the British angling public but he doesn’t even mention them.  Instead he is selling us the idea that what has been documented in the USA has relevance here and why.  FJT succeeds in this but the very first chapter from Sosin and Clark bothered me.  In the very first paragraph they state; “…the fish must avoid getting caught.  Nature takes care of this by genetic adaption: the smartest fish survive to spawn and thus give birth to smarter fish, the vulnerable are caught and the weak strains eliminated.”  This carries on in the second paragraph; “The overall effect is to build up a strain of fish that is resistant to capture…” I’ll accept that angling can condition fish to behave in a different. ‘unnatural’ way but as I understand it evolution works a whole lot slower than that.  I don’t believe fish feeding unnaturally is the same thing as evolution.  “New techniques must be devised to replace those used by anglers in the past…”  Ah there’s the catch.  We’ve established one of the authors was a tackle consultant, enough said, I have my guard up.

Thankfully there was no attempt to sell me anything and I enjoyed the book on the whole although I’m not sure I learnt much I didn’t already know.  This may be because what is written here has been repeated by other authors and as a long time angler, I’ve absorbed this knowledge from other sources.  I can’t recall too many exciting new discoveries regarding fish behaviour in this time.  There are theories concerning fish behaviour being linked to atmospheric pressure, Barrie Rickards being an notable exponent.  Another relatively new theory links fish behaviour to moon phases and Dr Rickards was coming round to that one too.  Other than those I can’t think of anything.  The descriptions of how fish use their primary senses to detect food or threat was interesting enough and mostly sound. 

However there were several occasions where I strongly disagreed with what I was reading.  In the section on fish’s use of smell; “Results from a series of experiments on the sense of smell show that the least hours for odour perception should go to the northern pike…”  I can’t argue with the results of this experiment but I know that Pike can detect my deadbaits, often in murky water and smell plays a big part in this.  They go on to say that because of their reliance on sight, at night a Pike is “…generally helpless and must spend the hours of darkness resting and biding its time…”  This is simply not true, I know Pike can find my baits after dark and they don’t have torches.  It doesn’t get darker than 0300 in February, just one of very many examples I can recall.  To be fair Fred J. intervenes with some thoughts of his own at the end of the chapter which diplomatically correct Sosin and Clark. He goes and spoils things later, in a discussion of various species preferred temperature ranges, FJT adds a bit stating that in the UK Pike do better at lower temperatures than in the US.  He goes on to say British anglers don’t generally fish for Pike in summer saying anglers “…leaves them strictly alone while he pursues more worthwhile species…”  Worthwhile?  Fuck off Fred!  Apart from those gripes it was a decent read overall.

 

“Rainbow’s end” by Phil Smith

Phil Smith was one of those seemingly ever present faces in the angling press when I was a youngster in the eighties.  For many years he was one of the country’s top all round “specimen hunters” who caught fish of most species to impressive sizes.  This book was published in 1987 and is very much of its time in terms of species, sizes, methods and baits but a good fishy story is timeless and there are a few of those in here.  In this book, in general the longer the chapter the better it reads, the shorter stories just read like afterthoughts put in to pad things out, with a bit more effort they could have been much improved.  There are plenty of spelling and grammatical errors along the way as is often the case when an angler writes.  On the whole it’s a decent read but could have been a lot better with a second draft.