Bumbling

Late July and finally summer has turned up with a bang and the dramatic rise in temperature coincided with a day off.  I fancied spending a couple of hours exploring the ‘other river’ and this time resolved to do what I know best which is to wander around having a cast here and there with a lure rod.  I didn’t get up too early and just caught the tail end of the morning rush hour and by the time I’d got to the river it felt really bloody hot.  Today I used an eight foot, fixed spool set up and had a box of Chub/Perch sized lures in my pocket but it dawned on me I’d have been better off chucking out some bread and following it down river, oh well.

I worked my way upstream having a cast or two here and there.  I started off with a classic ‘Little S’ which was a top Chub lure back in the last century but it didn’t inspire much confidence.  I rummaged in the box and brought out an even smaller crankbait that was shaped and coloured like a bumblebee (google revealed it’s actually a ‘Rebel Bumble Bug’ but I can’t recall how I acquired it).  I can’t remember ever catching anything on this lure or even if I’d ever cast the thing before but somehow it felt right today.  I continued upstream and having reached a winding stretch with a bit more pace I finally found some fish.  I was barely concentrating when I made my first cast but something swirled and yes there were a couple of Chub drifting around.  The next couple of casts either hit the far bank or snagged in weed and I’d pretty much killed the swim before I knew it.  I could still see a couple of decent Chub but they didn’t want to know, would a lump of bread have sorted them out?  Reckon so.

I carried on upstream and reached a narrow, snaggy section and on my first cast here I was surprised and pleased when a nice Perch appeared from nowhere and nailed the little lure at my feet.  As it splashed around a second Perch followed it and I wondered if I’d find two in the net when I lifted it but no.  This was a lovely fish, vividly marked and big enough to require the net although maybe not so big it would avoid a winter bucket.  I’d pretty much resigned myself to a hot blank so was pleased with this fish which seemed to soften the nettle stings from where I’d had to push through to reach the swim.  With this I began to retrace my steps back downstream, there was nothing showing on the bend where I’d seen Chub but the location was stored away for the future.  After that nothing much happened until I was almost back to the car where another smaller Perch shot out of nowhere and nailed the bumblebee, this one didn’t need the net. 

After that I walked back to the car as quick as the heat would allow and when I was on the road I was glad of the air con.  It was a couple of hours well spent, I’m still learning about this river but I now know a couple of spots that hold the fish I’m after and I’ve identified a couple of others which look good for another day.  But for this day it was time to get home and tune into the cricket.  England had done okay on first innings but surely left a few runs out there, now after a dodgy start West Indies were showing some fight.

A day or so later, England’s batsmen had gone past West Indies first innings total and the lead was building meanwhile Giles and I were heading towards the coast on another roasting afternoon.  We had a cunning plan; extensive perusal of google earth had revealed a space to leave a car close to a bridleway that lead to the shore.  A shortish walk of 400 metres or so would bring us to a stretch of beach that few people would have fished?  We loaded up and hiked eastward on solid ground, there wasn’t a breath of wind and the heat was debilitating.  We reached the shore in no time but there was a snag, our google perusal hadn’t taken crumbling cliffs into account.  We figured we could probably make our way down if we were careful but getting back up in the dark didn’t seem a sensible course of action, so we turned and trudged back to the car.

A short while later we parked up at a more familiar destination then hiked through the gorse to find a beach busy with people enjoying the weather.  This is a favourite spot where this time last year we had a big catch of Rays, probably the best catch we’ve ever had?  Tonight everything looked good and we were confident, the rising tide was just how we like it, the sea was pretty flat, this was a beach where we’d never failed and we had tried and tested methods.  What could possibly go wrong?  To cut a long story short thought we were doing all the right things in the right places but failed to get a even a bite.  Loads of drifting weed made things tricky and I wondered if this was affecting the fish.  Out to sea the moon rose but disappeared behind dense cloud, after a while we could see what was definitely lightning flashing within the clouds and there was a lot of it going off.  It seemed to be heading towards us albeit very slowly, as spectacular as it may have been we decided, under the circumstances we might as well call it a night a bit early this time. 

There have been brief periods where I’ve felt I might be starting to get a bit of a handle on this sea fishing lark but thankfully as soon as this threatens to happen I head off to the beach full of confidence and absolutely nothing goes to plan.  What we have managed to learn is a handful of spots where it’s possible to catch some interesting fish but we get it wrong as often as we get it right which is okay with me. 

Sunday was spent in the garden, an extended shed rummage getting some river tackle sorted whilst listening to TMS.  England ended up winning easily but for three days it had been a decent Test match.

When Saturday comes

The quarter final kick off time was bloody awkward but then again I’d rather be fishing than watch almost any TV sport so we’d just have to work around it.  The game kicked off while I was getting the last of my kit together so I was in and out of the living room and it seemed England were doing okay, not brilliant but okay.  Which has been the case throughout most of the tournament despite what the media narrative might be telling us.  Giles arrived around 1730 and we loaded up before setting off to pick Trev up on the way to “the secret Bass swim”.  By this time it was half time in the match and still 0-0.

By 1900 the game had finished 1-1 and we were fishing on the estuary, as it was low water we set up on a straight between two shallow bays which was a mistake in hindsight.  A mix of rigs and methods went out, baits squid and rag, I kept it simple and used two running legers.  We’d had rain through the day but this had now cleared, the sun occasionally poking through a mostly cloudy sky.  The wind was a moderate westerly, on our backs so barely felt.  We sat close together tonight so we could have a good yarn, sometimes we can be single minded about trying to catch fish but on others such as this it’s nice just to be sociable.  For a while we were huddled close to the radio, England in a penalty shoot out which tonight was surprisingly comfortable compared to the agonising experiences of the past. 

As expected the fishing started slowly, we figured the rising tide and approaching darkness would mean our chances would increase as the session wore on.  This turned out to be fairly accurate; we had a flurry of bites just as the light started to fade; Giles began things with an Eel and shortly after I wound in a small Bass.  Soon Giles was in again but it was another Eel and Trev lost what was probably a decent Bass.  The flood tide was powerful and carried lots of snotty weed which clung to the line and made fishing difficult but we persevered.  As dusk deepened and the lights had to come on, we had sporadic bites; I managed a second Bass and Trev had a rig destroying Eel.

I’d expected the darkness to bring the fish on which it might well have done but the raging tide was preventing us from fully covering the water in front of us.  Giles and I cut to fishing just one rod each but Trev had had enough so packed up and sat in his chair happily sipping a beer.  I managed a third Bass that might have been a pound then shortly afterwards Giles had one of a similar size.  With high tide still an hour away, an underarm flick with a 6oz lead was being swept inland in seconds, fishing in these conditions was beyond our experience, time to go home.

After last week’s very sociable trip for my next visit I was going it alone so had no trouble talking myself into braving the long hike to ‘Shit or bust beach’.  As I drove east in the early afternoon the sky was clearing after a morning of showers which was just as well as I’d left the shelter behind.  Instead I’d packed an extra rod as this is the one place I fish where I sometimes think two isn’t enough.  Overall I travelled a little lighter but by the time I’d negotiated an uneven path and crunched across shingle I was blowing a bit.  By now the sky was blue and the sun was poking through, the wind a light westerly on my back.  There was no football distraction this week, with the semi final won mid week, who knows what will happen on Sunday?  I was fishing by 1530, ninety minutes before high tide but despite this the sea looked flat, maybe good for a Ray?

With this in mind I loaded a squid on a 2/0 pennell, clipped it to a pulley rig and hurled it as far out into briny as I could.  The other two rods were simple leger rigs with long hooklengths baited mostly with ragworm; the light rod was dropped in close around the length of a cricket pitch from the shore, the old carp rod was even closer, less than half that distance.  I had a bite on the light rod straight away and dragged a little Bass up the beach, a good start.  Over the next hour I had a few plucks and rattles, missed a couple and landed another Bass on each of my close range rods.

With high tide approaching I switched tactics on the light rod and for the next ninety minutes or so I cast it further and alternated between ragworm and whole squid, trying to hedge my bets a bit as this beach does turn up the odd big Ray.  On the heavy rod I kept pumping it out as far as I could for as long as the boiling tide would allow but I swapped squid for peeler crab from time to time.  It all seemed like a good idea in theory but tonight it didn’t bring me any fish.  During this period the old carp rod still fishing rag at close range wasn’t doing anything either, had the fish moved away?  The wind had dropped away nicely and I’d sat mostly in pleasant sunshine although away to the south I could see dark clouds and rain from time to time.

With high tide long gone and the ebb tide picking up power I reverted to fishing two rods with rag closer in, in fact after a time I switched the heavy rod to a long trace and a whole squid too.  Two hours into the ebb the Bass moved back into the area and for the next ninety minutes both the lighter rods received regular attention.  I missed a few good bites, lost another fish but managed to land five more small Bass.  This was enough to convince me to sit it out into darkness in the hope that some bigger Bass would be mooching around but tonight it didn’t pay off.  I did manage two small Eels which were lip hooked so didn’t end up as future pike baits.

By 2245 I was back at the car, knackered after eight hours on the beach between a couple of good hikes.  I’d sleep well tonight content after an enjoyable evening’s fishing on the back of an emotional Test match win, all the best Jimmy – we’ll miss you!  That just leaves the bloody football…

Recon

Every now and then we get a weekend when fishing time doesn’t coincide with any decent state of tide and we’re left wondering where to go and what to do.  We usually head for the Steep beach as you feel like you’re in with a chance here at any time but it’s a popular spot and these days we prefer to fish other places.  Another good option would be an estuary spot as these haven’t failed us yet this spring.  But in the end we decided to go somewhere completely different where we’d never fished before.

We arrived in the early evening to find a short walk on solid ground, then up a ramp of shingle and found ourselves looking down on a gently sloping beach with small waves rolling in.  By the time we were fishing the tide was on the way out and we fished it down and into darkness with our usual methods and a selection of stinky lumps of sea creature.  As the evening wore on the retreating tide revealed a mix of sand and shingle that reminded us of a favourite spot…  On this evening we caught bugger all, in fact we never had a bite but we learnt a little bit more and agreed it would be a pleasant place to fish on a more favourable tide.

A couple of midweek days off gave me the chance to explore some stretches of the ‘other river’.  My preferred way of searching unfamiliar water is to fish with lures and cover water and I really should stick to what I know best but instead talked myself into wandering around with a float rod watching a stick trundle down the river.  I had to get into AD for some bait so it was late morning before I arrived and after struggling with the gate I began wandering downstream.  I had the rod, a net and a rucksack on my back so it was easy to keep mobile which was just as well as I had a long walk passed shallow water that was sluggish and weedy before I found anything that looked fishy.  Here a slight bend had a bit of pace and a short run down into a shady straight.  This looked okay but I left the gear and wandered a little further downstream but returned after not finding anything tempting.

This first swim was comfortable so I was able to sit on my backside and swing the float into the stream but before fishing I made a brew and just sat feeding regular pinches of maggots and a few grains of corn.  When the tea was gone I started fishing and had bites from the beginning but as usual missed as many as I hit.  I did manage to catch a few fish though, mostly Bleak, small Chub and a Perch although only a few would have been bucket sized and none needed a net.  After an hour or so of this I’d counted twenty fish brought to hand and I became restless so it was time for a wander.  I tied on a bigger hook to hold a couple of grains of corn, hoping a big obvious bait would bring an instant response in any swims I stopped in.  An hour later I was back at the car having added just one more small Chub.

First impressions of this stretch?  It’s not somewhere that will draw me back again soon, there were no sign of any bigger Chub and it didn’t feel Pikey at all but I’ve made a start.

Another day, another stretch of the other river to explore.  Today was mostly cloudy with drizzle at times and a light west wind, not weather to be sat on my arse so I walked upstream as far as I could with the intention of trotting my way back with a couple of grains of corn on a 16.  I started off sitting for twenty minutes in a whole amongst trees where I let my float rest against a raft of flotsam, hoping something chubby lurked beneath.  After that I made my way slowly back downstream, stopping here and there to feed a little corn then allow the float to trundle downstream a way.  This stretch of river is wider and a little deeper but today had little flow and the float made a painstaking journey down.  There were a few areas that looked good for the winter to come but at this time of year I need shallower water with more pace.

After a couple of hours of fruitless wandering I settled into a swim where small fish were showing, sat on my backside and fed maggots then swapped the corn for a couple of red wrigglers and caught a fish on the first cast, then another.  It was a bite a chuck on maggots but the fish were all small, mostly Bleak with a couple of Chub thrown in.  When the drizzle blew in again it looked like settling so I decided enough was enough and made my way back to the motor.  As I walked back I couldn’t help thinking I’d have found out a bit more had I stuck to what I know best and used a lure rod.