Variety

The Princess reminded me we hadn’t spent many nights under canvass this year which was all the excuse I needed to go rummaging for the bivvy/small green tent.  I did briefly consider the possibility of putting it up on a beach somewhere…  But this would have been a bit daft and the tides weren’t inspiring either.  So in the end we returned to the Valley for the first time since when?  Probably last August. 

I set up knowing it was unlikely that I would catch anything, I rarely do at the best of times but just dropping in for a night on the off chance is never ideal.  For once there were a couple of other anglers present but both were friends and after a chat we all gave each other a wide berth.  My plan was to find a couple of clearer patches amongst the weed, dump a pile of pellets on them and top them off with a bright yellow pop up and this is what I did.

With our camp erected we sat back chatting, drinking tea and enjoying a pleasant day in the countryside.  The sun was shining but the south easterly kept the temperature comfortable.  I watched the water, there were definitely patches of bubbles that could only be attributed to fish but was it a large individual Tench or Carp?  Sometimes it is but more often it’s a shoal of silver fish destroying any food available.  Still it gave me a bit of hope, I began to feel like I had a chance but to be honest I’d rather have been sitting on a beach.  We enjoyed the evening but when the sun sank the temperature cooled quickly and we were tucked up in the bivvy/tent by 2230.

I slept badly and not just because the Princess was snoring.  Swans were a nuisance and I actually had a couple of liners which shocked my eyes open.  By 0600 I was awake, sitting in a chair and staring out across the water, there were loads of silvers topping and the occasional explosion of bubbles but nothing to get me excited so I closed my eyes and dozed off in the chair.  I was eventually roused by the sounds of wakefulness coming from the tent which was my cue to get breakfast underway.  A while later we were sipping tea and munching on sausage sarnies, a meal which never tastes better than when you are sitting by water.

I felt the need to catch something so set up a whip with a light rig and an 18 hook, nicked on a fake red maggot and swung it out.  Twenty minutes and twelve Rudd later I’d had enough and the whip was packed away again.  We sat it out till midday by which time the sun and heat were becoming oppressive so we happily packed away.  Another night after the elusive Tench and Carp at the valley went exactly as predicted.

A few days later…

A day off work and although I was busy in the morning a couple of hours opened up in the afternoon, I had a chance to fish and if I could be arsed with the long walk to the Bass spot I’d get there at a potentially decent part of the tide.  But then there was the weather, fucking hot and horribly humid.  Only mad dogs etc.  If I was fishing freshwater then I’d have said it was a pointless waste of time but salt water is different and the weather is always different when you are facing the sea.  High tide was around 1250 which was roughly when I left home and an hour later I was fishing, throwing rubber sandeels into the fast flow and cranking them back quickly before the ripping tide could wash them into the snags where I hoped the Bass would be at home, it had worked last time.

There were fishy boils and splashes and I started getting bumps on the lure from the word go but it was a few minutes before I hooked up.  A nice fish whacked the tip round and dived for the snags, I managed to keep it out but only just.  With the fish tired I walked it down to a spot where I could beach it, a decent fish but not big enough to keep should I have been in the mood.  A few casts later I had a repeat and managed another Bass that was slightly smaller, it was looking good for a few more too.

But it didn’t turn out that way.  I was getting regular thumps on the lure but not hooking up so switched to a small shad and caught another smaller Bass straight away.  Next cast the tide swept the lighter lure into the snags and that was the last I saw of it.  I tried the infamous Dexter Wedge and this done the trick with a big fish that thumped the rod over.  Once again I had a tug of war trying to keep the fish away from the structure but this time the fish won.  It took the line through a load of nasty stuff and I lost both it and the lure.  How big?  Bigger than anything I landed last time.

Despite covering the area with jigs, plugs and spoons that was the last action of the day, the fish had either spooked or moved away of their own accord.  I folded the rod at 1515 after about ninety minutes fishing and commenced the long march back in the searing heat, away from the water the temperature and humidity cranked up. It was all a bit daft really but I’d enjoyed myself.

Another day, another fucking roasting hot day and in the morning I had some unavoidable physical exertion.  I was home in the early afternoon and felt ropey so hid indoors until the worst of the heat had subsided.  The evening was free time which I intended to spend by the water but where?  It would definitely be salt water that much was certain.  High tide was due late, so late it would actually be tomorrow and I didn’t think I’d have the energy to sit it out till then.  I’d be arriving with the tide at its lowest so it made sense to me to fish somewhere with deep water easily reachable and over the last two years I’ve learnt a few spots that fit the bill. 

I headed east, (it’s a very long way to the sea if you go west) through parched countryside, no serious rain in eight weeks now.  Field fires are becoming common, the fire brigade is stretched and I had no complaints when an engine blocked my way for a few minutes.  Further on the Police were controlling traffic, no fire this time just three massive straw bales which had jumped off a trailer on a sharp bend.  Eventually I got through and as I neared the coast I tried to narrow down my options.  The first car park would have been manageable but I really fancied the next one unfortunately this was rammo, no chance.  At the steep beach it didn’t seem too bad so I parked up and humped my gear down the crunching shingle shore line.  There were plenty of people about, a few anglers but mostly day trippers daft enough to dunk themselves in the North Sea.  I was sure most of these would be fucking off soon and so it proved.

Today I told myself I was going all out for the big fish; Rays or Smoothounds, using mostly squid and crab baits.  The heavy rod would be used to launch baits as far as I could and on the lighter one I would vary the distance, I was fishing by 1920, bang on low tide.  Here by the sea the breeze kept the temperature down to a manageable, comfortable level and despite there being no shelter I was soon sitting in shade, I call it the steep beach for a reason.  The sea was flat, I should have no trouble seeing any bites tonight but I was realistic, from my limited experience things seemed far from ideal and I would gladly settle for just one fish tonight.

The evening that followed was relaxed and comfortable, the only exertion came when the rising tide forced me to move my camp to the top of the slope.  The sun sank, the sky grew dark and the moon rose red, I saw several shooting stars and wished on all of them but not for fish however I don’t believe this was the reason I didn’t catch any.  My baits remained untouched all night, not even molested by crabs which made for a more relaxing time although I’m starting to believe the fishing is actually better when the crabs are active, which would make sense.  I gave it till midnight then a few minutes more but I hadn’t felt confident at any point and it wasn’t a wrench to drag myself off the beach.  We all have to blank sometime.