We couldn’t resist, we just had to get down to the beach once more before the change in seasons, one last attempt to catch some Bass, Rays, Smoothound or whatever. I’d made the decision to put the old and barely functioning Intrepid reel into retirement, relegating it to a spare once again. I’d splashed out and replaced it with a modern Mitchell surf caster meaning I’d be fighting the new tackle curse I’d so far avoided. Also after rooting through the shed I managed to bodge a tripod out of a vintage carpy one made by Delareed that hadn’t seen daylight since the eighties. I managed to extend the legs thanks to some aluminium tubes I found in the garden. These came from some kind of lightweight mini greenhouse thing that wasn’t being used, so far no one has noticed. Some of the crap I’ve been unwilling to dump over the years is proving its worth but there will be loads more stuff that I really should just bin. On another warm evening I sat in the garden and spent some time constructing a pulley rig and tied a few hooklengths, I also added reflective tape to the rod tips to aid bite indication after dark.
Leading up to the day everything looked rosy, a dry sunny
day with a light easterly breeze, another idyllic evening but with twenty four
hours to go the forecast ramped the wind speed up. Apparently a strong east wind would be
straight into our chops but this didn’t matter, we’d be going anyway, confident
of catching a bag of fish having got this sea fishing lark well sussed out now.
Giles, Rich and I assembled at the car park around 1400 then
trudged across the shingle towards the sea which at first glance looked
inhospitable to say the least, big and grey and angry with white capped waves
and a roar of shifting stones. This
didn’t put us off, we’d just have to use bigger leads, ignorance is bliss. Already on the beach were two friends, Trev
and Craig who, although they wouldn’t describe themselves as serious fishermen,
were certainly more experienced off the beach than we were. In fact Trev had already caught a small Cod
(yes a Cod!) and a Whiting so things were looking good, until we turned to face
the sea. A twenty mile an hour Easterly
on a lake or broad is one thing, here it was something else entirely.
We walked on in order to give the lads some space as it was
obvious even to us that leads and lines would be getting shifted. I had arrived with a plan which I stubbornly
tried to put into action. A whole squid
was hooked onto a Pennell rig then in turn attached to a Pulley rig before
being hurled into the boiling grey stuff.
With this rod I wanted to fish at longer range with a bigger bait hoping
for a big fish but into the wind the splash didn’t look very far out at all. My second rod was the old carp rod again on
which I hoped to fish a running leger and a long hooklength. This I intended to bait with Ragworm and drop
in close hoping for a Bass however it only took one cast for me to realise the
set up was hopelessly inadequate for the conditions. The wind was forecast to ease through the
afternoon so I scrapped the light rod for the time being. Giles and Richard were fishing and faring a
little better than me, at least managing to keep two rods going.
Just before dark Trev treated everyone to barbecue cooked
burgers which went down a storm but as we fed so it seemed the fish had
stopped. We’d been expecting the wind to
abate with darkness but if anything it had got worse again and as the tide rose
up the beach the waves became ever larger.
We had also been told to expect hordes of Whiting after dark but this
didn’t happen either. I’d been recasting
my close range rod often, on several occasions retrieving to find my bait had
gone. The reflective tape I’d put on the
rod tips worked a treat but if anything tonight it made it obvious that the
lighter rod was in constant motion and I couldn’t possibly have a clue if I had
a bite. I had to concede defeat and pack
that one away for the evening, concentrating on the one rod might give me a
chance?
Our first two trips on the beach had been idyllic and the
conditions had made the mechanics of the fishing easy for us but tonight we
were way out of our depth. I certainly
had neither the experience nor equipment to feel like I was fishing
effectively, a good reminder that I am a novice and have a lot to learn about beach
fishing. Tonight I was learning that
there will be times when I need heavier leads and a stiffer rod or maybe I
should seek more sheltered water in one of the estuaries when the weather is
rough?
One by one the other lads packed up and bid us farewell
until it was just me and Giles left on the beach, ‘one last cast’ or so we
said. It struck me just how loud the
crash of waves and the shifting shingle was, we almost had to shout to be
heard. By now I was fishing half a bluey
on the Pennell/Pulley rig and the tip was bent and nodding rhythmically. I remarked to Giles that I hadn’t seen a
definite bite all evening then shortly after my tip banged and slackened off,
surely that was a bite? I wound down and
yes there was definitely a weight on the end that required me to pump it back
towards me. I was expecting to wind in
weed or Giles’ line but no something long and fishy was wriggling up the
beach. Was that an Eel? No it was a Dogfish! But it was somehow foul hooked in the belly,
though the sliding hook had moved a foot so it may have been hooked fairly at
some point? It doesn’t matter, I’d seen
the bite and experienced the thrill of hauling something unknown onto the beach
in the dark. The dogfish was soon back
in the sea wondering what the fuck had just happened. We gave it one last cast, then one more but
neither of us managed to catch anything else by fair means or foul.
This evening had been a totally different experience to our
previous trips. In fact sitting in the
dark being blasted by the wind and not having a clue if I was seeing bites was
much more like my childhood experiences of beach fishing. I enjoyed it but it enforced for me that it
isn’t the kind of beach fishing I want to do.
Am I a fair weather sea fisherman?
I plead guilty as charged but with renewed respect for the enthusiasts
for which the cold, dark and rough sea is normal. Tonight it was good to shut the car door and
block it all out. But come spring I will
be back!