Seafood Platter

I’d hoped for a warm spring this year but we’ve had the same kind of weather for the whole month; clear skies with cold nights and bright days, winds from the north and east.  This had been putting me off sitting on a beach but talk of numerous Rays coming off the East Anglian coast became too much.  I decided to just wrap up warm and go for it and managed to convince Giles it was a good idea too.

By 1530 we were setting up on another bright afternoon with an east wind blowing into our chops, the tide was at its lowest but on the turn and due to rise.  There were a few other anglers already fishing but still miles of beach and loads of space.  Having had time to organise myself I had two rods fishing pretty quickly.  Picking up where I’d left off last summer I went for the methods I had started to get used to.  Half a bluey was mounted on a Pennell rig and attached to a pulley rig which was hurled out as far as I could comfortably chuck it.  The second rod was the old glass carp thing with a simple running leger baited with ragworm, this was just lobbed twenty yards or so.  The thinking was simple, a big bait for a big fish on one rod and a lighter set up to catch whatever is there.  These rods were then placed on the fancy new beach tripod thingy I’d reluctantly purchased.  Making do with my old kit is part of the fun but a decent tripod is essential.  Carrying a comfortable chair across the shingle is worthwhile too.

In contrast Giles had brought a bundle of gear that hadn’t been touched in six months and was still sitting on his arse trying to sort it all out.  Eventually he was ready and hurled a mess of multi coloured mono, hooks, lead and squid into the uncharacteristic blue sea, then sat down to roll a fag.  His backside had barely touched down before his tip was rattling and amazingly the rolling strike, made whilst still seated, connected with a fish.  What it was we don’t know.  It was small and flat, roughly diamond shaped, brown with a few spots.  We think either Flounder or Dab, either way another new species and we were off to a flying start which encouraged Giles to get a second rod out too.  He eventually settled for a running leger on one rod and a multi hook paternoster on the other.

After that we had almost constant action, weather and sea conditions allowed our tips to stay fairly still so we were able to see loads of little plucks and pulls on the lighter rods.  Occasionally we’d see a proper bite and be encouraged to strike and sometimes we’d even hook a fish.  My first success was only about four inches long but I’m almost certain it was a tiny Cod.  I should have taken photos for identification but by this stage I still hadn’t put batteries in the camera, I forget there’s one on my phone.  Shortly after this I had a banging bite on the light rod and hooked something that gave a little resistance.  At first I thought it was a dogfish but on closer inspection I’m sure it was a baby Smoothound, a Suffolk Shark!  This was the fish that first motivated us to try sea fishing so the camera had to come out for it even though it was just a pup and it only had marginal resemblance to how we picture a shark.  The bites continued, my next fish was small flat and kind of oval shaped, I think for one evening I had Sole.

It was Giles turn now and he hit a bite and wound in what we both knew to be a Whiting, which made five fish between us, each a different species.  Giles brought the score back to three each, as this one skipped up the beach it was fish shaped as opposed to being like a saucer but not a Whiting.  This one was definitely a Cod, (small but substantially bigger than the one I caught) which like all the others was chucked back to grow bigger.

Minutes turned to hours and the afternoon burned away, with the sun dropping it turned cold and I wished I’d brought another layer.  There were loads of other anglers about now, at least a dozen but everyone had space and kept to themselves.  The beach was dotted with those brightly coloured igloos used by sea anglers and I can see there’d be times when these would be essential.  Here there is nothing but stones and inland the countryside is flat, there is nowhere to hide.  Once again I felt respect for these hardy anglers who endure this harsh environment year round.  Although the lighter rods had been rattling constantly the only thing of note to happen on my heavier gear was hauling in someone else’s complicated rig along with several yards of line and two crabs, this was followed by a spectacular crack off.  Once I’d got it set up again I’d alternated between bluey and squid, the former was getting nibbled but the squid had been stripped.  It was fun catching the small stuff but I am starting to see why proper sea anglers are so blasé about it and I really wanted to see the big bait get picked up.

Giles is a much more proactive angler than I am and he’d started to hit a few more bites by holding his rod and feeling the bite develop.  I copied his technique to an extent but lacking his patience I waited until I saw a rattle before picking the rod out of the tripod.  As the sky grew darker so all the fish we caught were Whiting but they were getting a little bigger.  I felt cold but not uncomfortable, when the fishing is interesting it keeps the elements at bay but had there been stronger wind and fewer bites we’d certainly have been blown off the beach by now.

I was about to reach for the lighter rod when I saw a definite fishy nod on the rod with the big bait, all attention became focused on this.  Yes that was a definite bite but on striking I couldn’t feel much weight and a minute or so later another Whiting appeared in the waves.  Oh well, on with a whole squid, it was properly dark now and the tide was right up.  I think our minds would have been happy to fish for a couple more hours but our bodies were in last cast mode.  The ragworm had all been used up so I tidied the lighter rod away and sorted things out for a quick getaway.  All the while there was a slow up and down pull on the other rod, it seemed far too smooth to be caused by a fish but then again it had been fairly still all night, maybe something as yet unlearned about the tide?  With no reason to put it off any longer I picked up the rod and wound down to find a bit of weight, sure enough there was a fish attached and I know this was a Pouting because I’ve used them as bait for Pike in the past. 

Tramping back across what seems like miles of shifting shingles we guessed we’d caught around fifteen fish this evening, half of these were Whiting but in total we’d caught six different species and set a few modest PB’s.  Back at the car the display said it was just three degrees but the hike had warmed us up.   We barely know what we are doing and nothing we caught tonight would have made a meal but it’s actually nice to feel no obligation to appear remotely competent.  I like being a beginner.