Late June

This Covid blighted world we currently live in has caused many families to feel heartbroken and although ours has avoided the virus so far, we’ve had our own share of distress in recent months.  It came to a head at the weekend with tears shed and a permanent hole left in our lives.  Then followed days of logistics; phone calls and forms to fill and meetings to arrange and Jesus Christ why is this so fucking complicated at a time like this?  It doesn’t help when someone interferes without invitation and you wonder how fucking pig shit thick people can be?

The need to heal, patch myself up, fresh air and countryside was required and a beach beckoned.  I’ve spent some of the best days of my life trying to catch fish and it’s also been something I’ve used for restoration after some of the worst.  A few hours by the waterside, trying to outwit a creature allegedly way below us on the evolutionary scale (except carp of course) and regularly failing.  It’s hard to explain the compulsion, even to another angler because we don’t all get the same things out of it.  For me it’s been a different buzz at different times over the last forty five years; catch the most, catch the biggest, catch the most difficult but throughout there’s always been an element of problem solving and a wish to discover what unknown creatures are swimming around down there.

Anyway…  Giles and I found ourselves at a coastal car park in the middle of the afternoon, as we unloaded another angler was heading home.  His news was grim, just one small Bass in eight hours fishing but he kindly gave us his leftover ragworm.  Undeterred we headed for the sea and for once walked across sand and through bushes before emerging at radar beach.  Having endured a series of trips that have featured crap tides (?) and poor conditions for once things seemed to be in our favour.  The day was dry and at times we even saw the sun, there was an onshore wind but the high tide would come after dark, just after 11pm.  It didn’t take long to get set up on this gently sloping beach, as usual I fished a leger rig close in baited with rag to begin and a whole squid was given the big chuck on a pulley/Pennell.  With two rods fishing I relaxed into my chair and made a brew expecting a wait before any action.

But I was wrong, it didn’t take long at all before the rod baited with rag was bouncing and I was moving across the beach at a speed not seen since I disturbed a bee’s nest last spring.  My rapid pace was rewarded with a bending rod and my first Bass of the year splashed through the surf.  I love Bass, glorious bars of spiky silver and I returned it quickly, without a photo as I was positive there’d be more about.  But I was wrong.  We did have a few more quick bites on rag, or at least Giles did but the only thing he connected with was an ‘orrible rig mangling Eel.

Time passed, the waves gradually crept further up the beach and our camp had to be moved accordingly but the fish weren’t having it.  Rich popped in for a brew and a chat but in the hour or so he was with us we didn’t get a bite.  The sun disappeared behind us and the moon sneaked above the horizon in front, as the light gradually faded so at last we began to get bites.

Giles started the action with a couple of nice sized Dogfish then I caught one myself.  On my next cast with the big bait/long chuck combination I had a decent bite.  I wound down to find my hooklength had parted…  I soon had a fresh bait on it and it didn’t take long before the tip was being pulled round again.  I picked the rod up but the line parted on contact!!  I couldn’t work out what had happened as the line had gone just beyond the rod tip but suspect it had cut on a post that poked out of the sand, now hidden by the high tide.

I scrapped this rod, deciding to sort it out in daylight another day but switched the Bass rod to a bigger lead enabling me to cast it further.  Meanwhile Giles was still getting bites and added another decent Dogfish to his score.  My confidence had taken a knock but this was soon lifted when a bite materialised on my remaining rod, I set the hook and felt some resistance but no great weight.  Something flat and Thorny appeared and I was pleased to catch a Ray, another cool creature.

While this was going on the tide had come all the way up then began to drop back down again but under the cover of darkness we were still getting regular bites and even catching a Dogfish or two.  This happens with coarse fishing too, hours of inactivity followed by periods of intense action but here on the beach, after dark you feel literally anything could be lurking out there.  We packed up after midnight, I finished with three Dogs while Giles had four or five.  Had we the stamina to carry on I’m sure we could have caught a few more.

An unexpected opportunity arose so I loaded the car and pointed it to the east.  It was a bright sunny morning and the forecast promised a light breeze, as I approached the car park a hare stood guarding the road but as I got closer it reluctantly hopped into the long grass to join a gang of four of its mates.  As I unloaded three vehicles had converged on the other side, their occupants all had loud southern city accents.  Will there be any peace and quiet today?

There were anglers to the north and south so I dropped in between them, there was loads of space for everyone, until the city boys arrived and collapsed with exhaustion under a mountain of tackle a little way to my right.  They weren’t too close but…  So by 0930 I was set up on the steep beach using my usual methods and mostly squid for bait on what most would describe as a beautiful summer day but will the fish agree?  The massive ferry to Hoek, bright white and serene like a giant swan cruised by heading for Holland and all kinds of adventure.  A group of swimmers arrived and plunged into the cold North sea, as loud as they were brave.

The day passed, the beach filled up with more anglers and loads of day trippers, though I don't know why anyone would want to try beach side activities on what amounts to a massive, shifting pile of pebbles.  Beach cricket would be impossible though the wicket would probably take spin of sorts.  The fishing was crap, I persevered past the high tide in early afternoon and outlasted the city boys but didn’t get a nibble.  My baits were mostly untouched meaning the crabs hadn't been getting away with it and I’d been fishing effectively.

Highlights of the day included the massively endowed hippy chick who exposed everything then went into the sea.  I didn’t know where to look, well I did to be honest, for probably longer than is appropriate.  Then there were the two middle aged ladies close to my right who kept smiling at me.  Was it my animal magnetism or could they not resist the alluring odour of squid in the sun?  Still smiling the ladies undressed right down to the wool before climbing into their swimming costumes and tiptoeing into the water.  At this point I decided I should get home before I got into trouble.