So we go on

So we go on.  Back to the unpredictable east coast, one last go for a big Bass, a creature we haven’t been able to track down with any consistency and tonight we’d opted to fish the most awkward beach we know.  So we set up at the ‘cauldron’ both of us with a bass rig each baited with ragworm and a ‘big bait’ rig, squid in my case.  The evening was comfortable with a south westerly on our backs and a clear sky, on this occasion the sea in front of us was relatively placid and the leads mostly stayed where they should be which can’t always be guaranteed.  There was a method to our madness however as this area has turned up plenty of Bass in previous Septembers, with a couple of bigger ones thrown in.

Our ragworm baits got attention right from the start, Giles beached a tiny Bass and was striking at bites regularly but without success.  I wasn’t seeing any bites but my bait was being stripped every cast.  After ninety minutes of frustration, out of the blue the heavy rod whacked once and slackened off, big Bass bite?  I wound down quickly hoping to catch up with a fish but I just wound in a battered squid…  I got a fresh squid out and a few minutes later something made off with it and banged the tip over.  This time there was weight on the end and a fishy resistance was it a good Bass?  No it was something totally different and always welcome, a Ray.

By now it was getting dark and once I’d clipped the tip lights on, the fish seemed to have woken up as the light on the Bass rod wobbled regularly.  In the run up to high tide both of us were getting bites regularly but hitting them was the problem, we guessed there were loads of small Bass out there, but would there be anything trying to eat these?  If there were we didn’t manage to tempt any but we did catch a couple of Bass each, averaging about twelve ounces apiece.  An hour after high tide the bites slowed up again but there was enough attention to keep us interested and we fished on until we ran out of worms.

That will probably be my last trip off the beach for a while, the Bass will be moving out soon and the Whiting will move in.  When these fish arrive in any numbers it’s hard to keep a bait in the water long enough for something interesting to find it.  I’ve enjoyed the sea fishing again this year but it’s been a season best described as an inconsistent.  Just when I think I’ve started to work things out I’m reminded that to attempt to do so is madness but I am learning to spot the days and tides when it’s just not worth the bother which is something.

A mid week day off, a nice time to have another look at the ‘other river’ in the hope of a Chub.  My last visit here had seen a good result and made me realise that as much as I like watching a float, I’m not very good at it.  I fish more effectively when I’m sitting still, probably because any fish I spook whilst setting up have time to regain confidence as I make less disturbance whilst fishing than I would waving a float rod around.  I like fishing with a swim feeder and I like watching a rod tip which I’ve learnt is far more sensitive than I thought possible.

I arrived at the river around 0900 planning to go back to the spot I’d fished a couple of weeks previously but would you believe it there was somebody setting up there.  I retreated quietly and made my way upstream to look for another spot.  I passed water which looked the part but the lack of any cover put me off so I kept going until I came across a spot which looked too good to be true.  This was an area shaded by tall trees which had a nice flat bank with shallow water beneath my feet but a deeper channel roughly mid river with decent flow.  I was shaded from the sun and sheltered from the breeze.  Upstream a fallen tree formed another bridge across the river, there was a row of overhanging trees lining the far bank and a big tree overhanging to my right, downstream.  Where do I start?

The first cast with an open end feeder and corn was upstream and brought a nice Roach on the first cast.  I kept plopping this rig into the river, working my way downstream I had a few bites and landed another Roach but it seemed my grain of corn might be a bit big?  Today I had a plan B which had been fermenting in my addled brain for a while. Back in December 2019 I made myself a couple of silly targets for the angling year to come.  I realised I couldn’t remember the last Pike I’d caught from my local river Gipping and I managed this at the first attempt a few weeks into the new year.  The other was another fish I hadn’t caught for years, a humble Gudgeon.  Then came lockdown and the restrictions over the following year saw me fishing close to home and presenting maggots in spots I really should expect to catch a Gudgeon from but I never did.  It’s ridiculous that I’ve managed to catch several Barbel in the last few years but not s single Gudgeon.

I clipped on a maggot feeder and scaled down to two maggots on a 16 hook swung it out and started catching fish straight away.  Upstream casts produced small Bleak but there was more activity on the downstream side of the swim.  I caught a good sized Dace then a Perch that needed netting followed by a couple more smaller Perch.  Every cast was depositing more maggots into the swim and it seemed like the frequency of bites was increasing.  Then a bite and a fish that put a proper bend in the rod and jagged the tip nicely until the hooklength bust, bugger!  I tied on another hook, this time a 14 as my eyesight isn’t good enough to tie any smaller unless I’m under a bloody light!  I will go to the opticians soon!  The lost fish hadn’t disturbed the swim and the bites continued, I hooked something small and long and brownish…  Yes it was a Gudgeon!  My first since God knows when and although not from my local river as I’d hoped it is from Suffolk, kinda.

After that I caught two more Gudgeon quickly and wondered if the bigger hook was pinning the bait to the bottom?  The half pint of maggots was diminishing which was fine because when it was all gone I’d happily go back to the open end feeder with a bigger bait and sit it out knowing there was plenty of food out there.  The tip jagged again and I found myself with a bent rod and a fish with attitude which didn’t want to pay me a visit.  Was this a decent Chub?  No there in the clear water was the unmistakable form of a big Perch, at least bigger than I’d hooked for several years.  Thankfully this one stayed on the hook and went in the net.  The Perch was a big old bruiser and I got the scales out as I thought it might be a two but it missed by a couple of ounces.

After that the maggots were all but gone so I reverted to the open end feeder and either corn of flake on the hook.  There were still fish about and I got regular movements on the tip though far fewer bites.  I was hoping a big Chub or two might show up and when the tip went round again it looked like I’d got one on corn but another bloody hooklength parted.  After that it just went dead and I didn’t get another decent bite and then as time passed the tip wasn’t moving at all.  I had half an hour in another swim slightly downstream but that move didn’t improve things so it was a good time to hit the road.  I'd set out to fish for Chub and managed to catch everything but.

Saturday was a bright, sunny day but cool in exposed areas like this with a wind from the south east.   When my shift finished there was still time for a couple of hours fishing so I joined Giles and his Daughter D.  The drive was tense, Town were a goal down and running out of time but before we parked we were cheering an injury time equaliser.  Today the three of us would be fishing from a boat, mooching about on an old lake armed with lure rods.  Yes shock, horror we were fishing for Pike!   We found Pike at the first stop near the edge of large weed bed, I hooked one on a shad but it came off just short of the boat then another nipped the tail off my shad.  Three of us in a boat casting lures could have ended badly but we were careful and there were no disasters.

We moved to the upwind side of the lake, the plan was to let the wind move us along, then we’d drop a weight over here and there so we could stop and cover the water.  Giles was on the oars and I took the opportunity to work a slider behind the boat, jerk trolling anyone?  Well the Pike liked it, I bumped one then hooked the next and managed to get it to the boat, my first of the season.  At our first stop I had two more both on new lures; a large twin tailed rubber frog type thing scored first cast then I had another on an articulated Fox shad thing but that one fish has practically wrecked it.  The Pro Shads are tough and catch plenty of fish, this new thing isn’t and I won’t be buying another. Shortly after this daughter D had her first Pike for a while, this too on a shad, all of these were the same kind of size, four to six pounds or so.

We moved on and just about everywhere we stopped we had some kind of action, a swirl or a thump but we didn’t set the hooks into any before the light faded and we ran out of time.  So that’s the Pike season started and there’ll be a lot more of this to come over the next few months but it’s not going to be all Pike.  When conditions are right I’ll continue to fish for other stuff too.