Busy beach...

A last minute change of plans, Giles couldn’t make it so as I was on my own I decided to fish the daytime tide which would peak at 1338.  This meant a bit of quick preparation on Friday evening but all should be well…  My sleep was broken by weird dreams, one of those regular pre-fishing frustration exercises, seriously can your blood pressure increase while you sleep?  Someone had built loads of fancy beach huts along the wild coastline and the place was rammo, people everywhere.  I woke up before I committed sleep murder.  While I filled the flasks and got bits and pieces together my mind was still foggy, as I stepped out of the back door the sky was hazy mist but the air refreshingly cool.

Onto the roads with a mind made paranoid, I couldn’t help pulling over to double check I had stashed my bait…  The traffic was light and I made good time on the cross country route, despite wankers in shiny 4WD’s who can’t drive them round bends.  The last few miles through a misty forest, Deer grazed casually by the side of the road, at around 0830 I pulled up in the car park at the Steep beach.  This is one of the most renowned marks in the area, a decent car park and a short walk to the shore where there is deep water close in and all manner of species could turn up.  So why don’t I fish it more often?  All of the above make it very, very popular.  As I tramped across pebbles there were already three anglers spaced along the beach, many more were sure to arrive.

I was fishing by 0850, as usual the heavy rod heaved out in the direction of Holland and baited with whole squid.  On the light rod I continued with the up/down rig baited with squid and fishy bits, I varied the distance throughout the day.  Things started quietly as I expected, the morning was gloomy with a barely noticeable southerly breeze and the sea was virtually flat.  After half an hour the first plucks and wobbles started then at 0945 I had my first proper bite on the light rod and winched in a small Whiting.  The slight indications continued but nothing to strike at until 1050 when I had a decent Dogfish which tried to fight and banged the light rod about before it succumbed.

Just after 1100 I had a good thump on the heavy rod but didn’t connect.  Twenty minutes later it was going again and this time I set the hook into something with a bit of weight.  The fish pulled hard in the surf before I dragged it in on a wave and was soon holding my first Bass of the year.  It might have been a keeper but it went back into the drink anyway.  By this time there were sixteen anglers on the beach, none too close but too many for my liking, not to mention all the dog walkers, day trippers and nutters who can’t resist a cold swim even though there are signs warning against it.

The sun burnt away the haze by noon but this didn’t put the fish off, for the rest of the trip I had bites fairly regularly on both rods.  I’m always more interested in the big bait and this rod produced my biggest Whiting of the year which was despatched for a future dinner as well as a good sized Doggy.  I had more bites on the lighter rod but nothing of any size; a small Flounder made me smile as did my first Rockling for over forty years, I remember them being blank savers on Felixstowe pier in the dim and distant past.  Weird looking creatures, if you scaled them up they’d resemble a Catfish but this one was the same kind of size, shape and colour as an average turd.  The action peaked with the high tide and slowed up as the sea gradually retreated.  High tide also brought a change in the wind which picked up from the east, eye wateringly cool and the big jacket was required.

I gave it till 1600 by which time I’d caught nine fish of five different species as well as missing plenty more.  A nice catch with interesting variety but honestly I know I’d have enjoyed myself more catching fewer fish on a quieter beach.  This may not make sense to many but that’s just how I’m wired.