Choices

The thought of catching another Smoothound was enticing and intoxicating and led me to ignore all common sense and try to keep the run going.  To be honest I had my doubts, the weather forecast wasn’t promising, hot, clear and bright; also the high tide was due shortly after 1600 which meant if I fished until dark the water would be way down the slope.  Things were far from ideal but the thought of catching another Smoothound…

So I set up at the northern end of busy beach around 1350, two and a half hours before high tide.  There were half a dozen anglers to the south of me and an equal number of day trippers.  As we know, people are compelled to head to the sea when the weather is nice.  Some get in and splash about for a couple of minutes but most just stare at it for while.  Plenty of both types turned up this afternoon and some were more distracting than others.  I used with the normal baits and methods and varied the casting distances, I fished the tide up and four hours down and didn’t get a single bite.  On most retrieves the baits came back in the same state they were launched.  By 2000 I’d had enough and didn’t have the will to hang on until darkness.  I knew I was pushing my luck but if you don’t go, you don’t know!

By now it was the third week of June so my choice of interesting ‘fairly local’ fishing increases to include the rivers.  For once I’d been organised and took a bit of time at the weekend to get a bag loaded and a couple of rods ready.  Another happy day with time on my hands, I rolled out of bed fairly early, mixed a bit of groundbait and got some bits together by which time the morning rush hour was over.  After a pit stop at AD for maggots it was 1000 before I gazed at the river for the first time this season.  Do I go upstream or down?  I fancied up and was fishing with an open end feeder and maggots on the hook a few minutes later.

I’d had some interesting fishing in this swim last season with fish of all species including a couple of decent Perch.  My plan was to plug loads of maggots in the feeder and keep dropping it out to build up an area of feed.  As well as the maggots I had a few worms and if plan A didn’t work a tin of corn with which I’d try for Chub.  I had bites from the off but the 14 hook was too big so I switched to a 16 which seemed tiny in comparison.  The 14 was a now discontinued Matrix ‘rigger’ hook which is more like a normal size 12.  I’ve used these hooks for several years but now my supply is dwindling.  The smaller hook saw me catch a few fish; my first of the season was a tiny Roach, followed by a Perch of a couple of ounces.  I was getting plenty of indications but just annoying rattles that I couldn’t strike at, these must have followed me from the beaches?  I caught a few more small fish but these included a small Chub and a Gudgeon which I will always prize.  I got the feeling there were only small fish around today and started to plot a move.

By 1145 I was walking slowly downstream towards the ‘squirrels bridge’, I stopped just above the swim and was surprised by just how low the river looked, I hadn’t noticed before.  But I could see a dozen or so chub drift casually down towards the raft of debris. There looked to be around a couple of pounds or so but they would do for me on a hot sunny afternoon.  My first few casts were with maggots and I got bites straight away and was soon swinging in a small Dace, followed by a Minnow which made six species today but I wasn’t bothered about adding to that tally.  From then on I fished a couple of grains of corn on the big 14 and loaded the plugged feeder with more corn.  This was dropped just above the raft, now I was content to wait and see if I could tempt a chub upstream.  With this in mind I kept throwing a few maggots or grains of corn into the stream whenever it occurred to me.

I only had to wait ten minutes before I had a twitchy bite and set the hook into something and after a few seconds I realised it was a decent fish.  My rod was bent fully round to keep the creature out of some snags but all I could do was hold a powerful fish, I wasn’t gaining any line, stalemate, then it went slack.  I wound in and found the ever-reliable Matrix hook had straightened, just a little but enough.  As I’d been sitting down throughout the brief battle and screened by a clump of nettles I’d not seen the fish but it was almost certainly a big Chub.  Would that kill the swim?  There was only one way to find out so I tackled up again with a heavier gauge size 10 from an old pack of Fox carp hooks and got the rig back in the water.

Half an hour later I had a similar twitchy bite and having had time to think about what to do differently, I put pressure on straight away and held the fish out in the stream away from the snags.  This was another good fish which lumped around in the shallow water but I eventually got it into the net.  I always over estimate the size of decent Chub but this was surely one of my biggest yet?  It was then I realised I hadn’t transferred the digital scales from the sea rucksack but no worries, as I’m paranoid about this sort of thing I knew there was a Salter spring balance in the bag, I’d seen it the other day.  But the spring balance wasn’t in the bag, which totally fried my brain.  Oh well, there was a scale missing on one flank so maybe I’d recognise it again?  I took a quick photo and slipped it back and all I’ll say for sure is it would have weighed over four pounds.

After that, things did go quiet but I was nicely shaded from the sun and had nothing better to do, so I kept dropping the feeder into the pool.  I’d forgotten about the sound of birds we experience in these quiet freshwater spots, it’s constant and the loudest sound around.  Somewhere above me a Buzzard mewed but I glimpsed it just the once, sat as I was beneath a canopy of leaves.  But I did have a Kingfisher regularly zipping up and down and several visits from what I later identified as a Grey Wagtail.  At around 1435 I had another twitchy bite and hooked a third decent fish.  By this time I was practiced so steered the fish out into the current where it could tire itself out, away from the snags.  This time it seemed easy and I soon had another Chub in the net.  I guessed this one at around three pounds but it looked a lot smaller than the other one and what the hell was that first fish?  After forty five fishless minutes I tidied up and headed home and reflected that I’d managed to catch a few fish through the worst part of a hot day but still there was unfinished business, I’ll be back in a week or two.  When I got home the missing spring balance was just inside the back door?

That was a long ol' day

When I checked the tide times for my next days off I couldn’t make up my mind between fishing the morning or evening tides.  Having caught Smoothounds on consecutive trips making it a hat trick seemed ridiculous but I should at least have a damn good try.  So with this in mind I thought I might as well make a bit of an effort and try to fish a long session and a good chunk of both tides.  After a good think I realised I’d have to load up a bit more kit, notably a stove, kettle and toaster so I could get fuel on board and keep the energy levels up.  I’d need more bait too and if ever there was a time to use the frozen crabs it was now.  International cricket on normal TV is a rare treat and while I watched, I sharpened hooks and tied up a few more traces then after England had completed an impressive win, I went outside and tweaked the lighter rod so I could switch between rigs quickly and easily.  Over the last two trips most of the bites had come to baits given a good chuck but one of the hounds had taken a small squid fished on a long hooklength, a rig that I can’t cast particularly far.  However in the spells when bites came quickly it was on the baits fished at range exclusively so it would make sense to clip a pulley rig on.  I know experienced sea anglers would have better ways of doing this but I like the simplicity of the methods I’m comfortable with.

But after all that I was lazy and got up later than planned, when I arrived at the beach I found the car park was busy, that’ll teach me.  After a scout around I loaded my gear and walked to the north of the beach, even further than last time but in a similar area.  Looking to the south of me I could see at least sixteen other anglers stretching right around the half mile of the bay.  I was at the end of this erratic line of anglers, I never like fishing in the middle but I doubt it makes much difference on most beaches. The morning was cloudy and there had been a bit of drizzle on my drive over, the wind was moderate and from the west so with the shelter up I was nice and comfortable.

I made my first casts around 1040, an hour before high tide and within minutes the tips were banging.  I missed two bites on the light rod fishing squid on a long trace but connected with the third, my first fish of the day was a Dogfish.  Around 1115 the heavy rod was wobbling and I was into a bit of resistance which turned out to be a Ray of a couple of pounds or so, always a pleasure to see.  Ten minutes later the light rod folded over and I was attached to something with a bit of spirit that was pulling back.  I was fairly certain what I was attached to before I saw it and yes I was right, another Smoothound!  This was a smaller one, a couple of feet in length but they like a scrap and I love catching them!  A few minutes later I missed a bite on the heavy rod, that brought me up to high tide and the bites abruptly stopped. 

After that the tide slid back down the slope, the grey clouds blew away leaving a mostly sunny day and I had sporadic bites through the rest of the afternoon.  Most were rattles that didn’t develop, I think the small dogfish struggled with the large baits I was using so took a bite and swum off without hooking themselves.  I did manage to catch a small Ray and a couple of dogfish though.  While all that was going on two policemen were walking up and down the beach, they didn’t visit me and I couldn’t see if the normal hasty stubbing out of cigarettes went on.  My stove had been in use throughout the day, boiling the kettle and cooking bacon so I stayed full of fuel.  By 1600 I emerged from my shelter and looking south was surprised to see I had the beach to myself, everyone else had buggered off, did they know something?  Maybe they did, around 1630 the wind dropped and I was in the process of shedding a layer when it sprang up again from the east, the total opposite of before.  This meant quickly repositioning the shelter before it moved of its own accord.  I switched the light rod over to a pulley rig which I could cast further into the headwind.

Around 1705 I was sitting in the shelter whipping up another bait when I heard a strange whining sound, the noise mono line makes when under tension in a breeze.  The tip of the heavy rod was being yanked down and I was soon attached to a fish giving me a bit of resistance.  I slowly pumped it in hoping for another Hound but it turned out to be a Ray between three and four pounds, which was a bit of an anti climax if I’m honest but I know this is ridiculous!  This was half an hour before low tide and a couple of quiet hours followed.  The tips were quite steady so I was able to give baits a long soak, up to an hour at times yet they came back looking untouched.  By this point I figure most of the scent would have washed out so I change them anyway.

In the evening the sky cleared but the wind didn’t let up and it grew cool.  Things started to happen a couple of hours into the flood, I missed a decent bite on the heavy rod at 1920 and as the sun sank lower and darkness approached I started to get the annoying taps and rattles. This continued into darkness which meant I was busy baiting up and recasting without any reward, then at 2155 I had a proper bite and another Dogfish.  For the next half hour the action was non stop, I missed a few bites and wondered how but landed two more Dogs, then the bites stopped again.  By 2245 I was virtually out of squid so had a last cast on each rod while I tidied up and with nothing moving it was no wrench to drag myself away.  I’d spent over twelve hours on the beach and this had taken its toll but I hadn’t been bored for a second. 

I can't remember a sea fish doing that before?

Another week passed by slowly as they do when I have something fishy to look forward to, in this case a favourable early evening tide.  I like these as I feel the high tide gives me a good chance of fish as does the fading light a couple of hours later, two bites of the squid so to speak.  The question, as ever, was where do I go?  The sensible thing would be to grab some ragworm and head for the ‘Cauldron’ as I’d had a good night there a fortnight ago.  But my mind couldn’t get passed the little Hound I caught last week, although small it had pulled back and was an impressive creature, I want to catch more!  After five years of this sea fishing lark, I’ve learned enough to be able to catch Bass and Rays fairly consistently but Smoothounds have proved elusive and I haven’t really got a clue.  Fishing midweek means the popular beaches are far less busy therefore more acceptable to me and it was at one of these I’d caught last week’s Hound. The notebook, an essential item in any fishing bag, reminded me of something that should have been obvious; of the small number of Hounds I’ve caught most have come from this particular beach.  So that made the decision for me but I’d have to wait, bad weather meant delaying the trip for twenty four hours.

I hadn’t been able to fix the reel that had let me down last week, the screw holding the bail arm roller wouldn’t move even after several blasts of WD40 and in the end I managed to burr the Phillips X.  The £40 Mitchell reel had done me for nearly five years which is a lot longer than I expected when I bought it.  I bloody hate buying fishing tackle and not just because of the ‘new tackle curse’ but now it was urgent and couldn’t be avoided.  I liked the look of a couple of mid priced Daiwa reels but there were none in the tackle shop and my choice was either fairly cheap or bloody expensive.  I ignored my own normal advice and went for the first option which was a Shakespeare Salt with a big spool and ended up grabbing a cheap 13 foot Advanta beachcaster to go with it.  The old North Western glass thing has done me proud and after a bit of care and attention it will come back again.

I left home in the early afternoon for the usual patient (?) drive through the green heart of the county and arrived around 1530.  There were too many vehicles in the car park so I almost backed up and went somewhere else but I had a little recce and it looked like there was plenty of space where I wanted to fish so I loaded up and commenced the hike across the shingle.  Before I was half way there I noticed a couple more people set up half way down the slope, fishing pretty much where I’d hoped to go.  For a second time I contemplated heading back to the car and going elsewhere but in the end I walked to the far northern end of the beach where I’d have a bit of peace and quiet.  I’ve caught here before, including a Smoothound but had I known this was where I’d end up I probably wouldn’t have come to this beach in the first place?

The afternoon was warm and mostly cloudy with a stiff south westerly breeze, the sea in front of me had a bit of swell but the waves were fairly small.  I was fishing with two rods and the usual methods, pulley rig on the heavier rod and a running leger on the light one and made my first casts around 1600, just under three hours before the high tide.  Baits on both rods were mostly whole squid, larger ones on a two 2/0 pennell or smaller ones on a single 3/0.  I always try other baits, mackerel, bluey, crabs and have caught fish on all of them but I have total confidence in squid and sometimes wonder why I ever bother with the others.  The first cast with the new set up was disappointing and it took me a couple more casts to get out of the habit I’d had of fractionally delaying the line release, I didn’t need to load up the sloppy old glass blank.  It will be interesting to see if I can cast further with the new gear, I’m not convinced it will make much difference.

The first hour passed quickly with me content in the beach shelter cuddling a cup of tea, when I emerged the wind soon reminded me why I carry the shelter.  Glancing to the south of me I could see some of the anglers had gone home leaving a nice big space where I would normally fish.  I thought about lugging all my gear down there but only for a split second because humping it along half a mile of shifting shingle would be a physical work out I might need but don’t want.  As time passed and the sea rose, I tried baits near, medium and far and although I noticed the odd erratic movement on the rod tips there were no proper bites.  I continued to curse myself for coming to this beach and ending up at this end of it.  By 1800 the wind had picked up and had swung to the south, battering and rattling my shelter.  The swell was heavier too and the waves had grown bigger and louder as they crashed against the slope.  Conditions now looked good for a Bass (or so they say?), why didn’t I get any ragworm?  Why the hell did I come here?

A few minutes later there was a sharp pull on the heavy rod, a definite bite but it had stopped by the time I was out of my chair and didn’t develop.  I left it a little while then wound in a mangled bait and this continued for the next few casts, frustrating taps and knocks but nothing I could strike at.  High tide came and went, the fishy activity slowed up again and I began to chunter some more.  Things were looking bleak but there is a chance here at any state of the tide and I had darkness to look forward to, that might be the key tonight.  Then again, I caught a few fish in daylight last week?  There were still three or four anglers sticking it out to the south of me, as I was sat with my back to them I hadn’t a clue if they were catching or not but they hadn’t buggered off at least.  The casts on the new rod were getting better but honestly I haven’t a clue how far the leads land in terms of metres and never have.  I know some we get just right and they fly and others are fractionally out in some way and don’t go as far.  Of course all honest anglers have total fuck ups from time to time.  With the tide now ebbing the waves began to shrink and the sea looked a little flatter, maybe there was a chance of a Ray after all? 

The clock began to speed up and I was lost in my thoughts and didn’t remember how long the baits had been out there so around 2030 I freshened them both up with two fresh squid.  Ten minutes later I had a proper thump on the heavy rod, the first decent indication in ages, this didn’t develop but the light was fading now and things were looking up.  The wind had eased off and in terms of comfort, conditions were the best they’d been all afternoon.  I’d give it an hour and if nothing was happening by then I’d get off.  At 2100, two hours into the ebb the light rod banged a couple of times and bugger me I was into a fish.  I soon wound a good sized Whiting up the slope, it was well into legal size and I considered taking it home but ideally I’d need another one for a decent meal but as this looked unlikely I slipped it back.  I’ve had a few evenings where I’ve chucked these fish back one after the other as I wasn’t sure I’d get another one, would this be another?  Have the Whiting moved in? Apparently not but at least I'd caught something.

Around 2130 the heavy rod started banging but I was too keen and too soon.  I freshened the bait up then launched it back out and within minutes it slammed over and not even I could miss this one.  I stood at the top of the slope attached to a fish with a bit of weight and resistance but as this was the first I’d hooked on the new rod I couldn’t be sure what was going on.  At first I thought ‘Ray’ but it dawned on me that although I was gaining line steadily this fish was running, not just hanging in the tide like a Ray can do.  The closer I brought it to the beach the more determined these runs were and it actually took line off the clutch, I can’t remember a sea fish doing that before?  What was going on here?  It could be a big Bass but honestly I didn’t think so, even before I’d seen it I was pretty sure what I was attached to and when a retreating wave left it high and dry I picked a good sized Smoothound up by the tail!

These fish are fucking awesome, they look fantastic and considering the strength of the gear we have to use, they fight like fuck.  It was probably twice the length of the measure so the scales came out and recorded a new PB by a distance but trying to control this creature was a difficult.  It was still full of wiry strength and refused to stay still but that isn’t the only reason the photos came out as they did.  I could have tried again but carried it back down the slope and stood grinning as it powered back out to sea, weirdly I felt like I’d been dismissed from its presence.  That was the best fish I’ve caught from the beach so far and I loved the experience, I want more.

In a way it would have been nice to sit on my arse and reflect but maybe there was a chance of another so obviously I got another bait out quickly.  And the bites continued with the heavy rod knocking on every cast but the culprits were Dogfish.  I landed three of these and missed a couple but by 1030 I’d stayed later than planned and was thoroughly knackered.  I must be getting my timings wrong because I keep packing up at times when I know I could catch more fish, something to think about.  As I packed up I noticed there were no lights on the beach so it looked like everyone else had left and sure enough mine was the only vehicle left in the car park.  What a strange evening, five hours of thinking I’d got things totally wrong then a few bites and a fish that will keep me grinning for weeks.  Oh Jesus is this the beginning of a new addiction?

Changes of scenery

The Bassing has been fun but after quite a few trips to the same spot I fancied a change of scenery and routine.  I wanted to get back onto an open beach as opposed to an estuarine spot but which one?  I spent the morning mooching about the house and garden, getting bits ready and trying to decide where to go.  The day was clear and bright with barely a cloud and just a light north easterly breeze waving the leaves.  I shouldn’t need the shelter but for some reason something made me put it in the car.  By 1430 I was hiking through a different salt marsh with a fierce wind trying to push me backwards and I was bloody glad to have the shelter, my destination was the ‘Cauldron’ which could be heaven or hell.  I’ve had some excellent nights fishing here but some dodgy ones too as the currents can make it unfishable.  Whatever happened here I didn’t expect it to be all about ragworm after dark and although I knew I had a damn good chance of Bass here, other interesting species may turn up too.  Whatever, this is one of my favourite places to sit and I was confident of catching something at least.

By 1450 I had two running legers fishing squid out into the boiling waters.  The old carp rod has been retired yet again, back came the vintage beachcaster.  I started off with the light rod at close range and the heavy rod about forty yards in an area of uneven depth and all kinds of obstructions.  I’d arrived two and a half hours before high tide and planned to fish it up and as far down as reserves of bait, energy and enthusiasm allowed.  Despite the wind the tips weren’t too wobbly although I’d struggle to see some of the more subtle bites we’d had lately.  The sea had a bit more colour too it than of late, a greeny grey instead of the exotic blue of when I’d last visited an open beach.  The waves were fairly small but loud as they dragged shingle down the slope beside me.  I was sitting comfortably in the front of my shelter but move a yard in any direction and the wind reminded me it wasn’t a balmy spring day, not here at least.  Not just a different day, a different season.

After an uneventful forty five minutes I switched the light rod over to ragworm, the first one I pulled out was ropey and dead but I threaded it on anyway and thought I’d give it a go.  The lumps of squid I’d been soaking had come back relatively untouched and I noticed there wasn’t too much snotty weed clinging to the line so far.  At 1545 I had my first proper bite of the night which I had no trouble seeing, a Bass – small, silver and beautiful had snaffled the dead worm, I don’t know why that surprises me but it does. Interesting.  On the next couple of casts I thought I might have seen the odd erratic movement on the tip but couldn’t be sure and it wasn’t enough to get me out of the chair.  I tried holding the rod and felt definite plucks but with my reactions I’ll never hook those!  Meanwhile lumps of squid fished on the heavy rod were coming back looking as good as new so maybe I could leave them a while?

At 1700, with the tide nearly at the top of the slope I hoped the sea might be slack enough for me to launch a squid on a pulley rig, far out into the heaving mass.  The rhythmic tip movements indicated it was moving but not much.  Through the high tide period I seemed to be getting attention on the ragworm on every cast but frustratingly no proper bites.  There were distractions around me; a Herring Gull was edging close hoping to steal some food but I wasn’t in the mood for charity today.  A pair of Plovers zipped passed and above me were Sand Martins and Skylarks.  Then bang!  The light rod was bouncing and I had my second Bass of the night.  I’d barely recast when it banged again but I missed it this time.  With all this going on I spent plenty of time outside the sanctuary of the shelter but by now, with the turn of the tide, the wind had started to ease. 

By 1800 the bites had stopped and all baits were coming back intact and I had an hour of watching motionless tips, had the fish moved off?  I remembered bites coming in spells here in years gone by so hoped this would be the case tonight.  I’d been fishing the heavy rod at range but the ebb tide was beginning to gather pace, the bend in the old rod increasing, the leads would start rolling soon so it would be time to switch back to fishing in the gullies.  I rigged up a peeler crab on a long trace in preparation but next time I wound in the light rod I snagged, so ended up clipping the crab onto that rod.  I swung it out into the cauldron at about 1900, it’s a highly rated bait for many species crab, but I’ve not done a great deal of good on it.

At 1910 the light rod banged over and I almost fell out of the seat.  I’d hooked a decent fish at close range that was pulling back a bit but what was it?  I didn’t have to wait long for my answer as the sun picked out a silver bar running parallel to the shore against the tide.  I soon had it on a short line and used an incoming wave to help me drag it on to the beach.  It looked a good un and was too big for the measure so out came the scales, my second best so far, happy days.  I stuck a ragworm back out on that rod then rigged up another crab which I stuck on the heavy road now fished a bit closer.  Half an hour passed before I had two quick bites on the worms and two more small Bass were quickly unhooked and returned.  Over the next half an hour I had plenty of plucks and rattles but only managed to hook one more Bass.  In between dealing with that rod I’d switched the other one to squid and it was this that produced the next bite at 2020.  Even with the heavier rod I could feel a bit of weight that wasn’t doing a lot so I wondered if it was a Ray but no a big Dogfish wriggled up the beach.  A spell of calm followed then out of the blue at 2045 I had bangs on both tips, only one bite developed though and I wound in a seventh Bass on rag and it wasn’t even dark!

That was my last proper bite for a while although I still had the occasional nibble on ragworm.  The sea retreated but the light began to fade so I decided to stay on into darkness until the worms run out.  2130, forty five minutes had passed without a fish.  Now was the time I’d be starting to feel confident when fishing the other spot, surely darkness would bring some more fish?  The answer was yes, over the next half hour another flurry of decent bites brought me three more smallish Bass and I’d reached double figures.  I hoped for just one more but the bites stopped a couple of casts before the bait was all gone.

I didn’t know what to expect when I crossed the marsh earlier, I wondered if I’d see a Ray or maybe an early Hound.  I hadn’t seen either but ten Bass and a big Doggy is a result in my book.  Walking back on a now still night I soon got a sweat on, which wouldn’t have seemed likely a few hours earlier.  It’s tempting to come back here at the earliest opportunity but I’ll have to study the tides and I have to remind myself that it’s different here every time.

My next trip to the beach was in a period of big tides but my plans had to be changed as ragworm was scarce and the weather wet and horrible.  The following day saw calmer winds with scattered showers and fishing should be a lot more comfortable if I could decide where to go.  Trying to target Bass without Ragworm is beyond me so it would have to be a beach where I have a chance of a variety of species.  I could head south and fish for Rays but the swell would be unpredictable and besides, I want to catch more Smoothounds and they don’t turn up very regularly at all down there.  Maybe I should head north to one of the renowned beaches but if I’m going to make that effort ideally I’d want ragworm in the bag!  There are a few spots closer to home that do produce Hounds irregularly, I’ve even caught a couple myself.  One is a bloody long walk and the other is a beach I’d avoid at the weekend but on a weekday morning it should be pretty quiet?  It’s a place I often end up when I can’t decide where to go.

Half term roads were a bit calmer and the county show would be sucking a lot of traffic in that direction.  For a lot of the vehicles heading that way the cargo is more civilised than the driver.  By 0915 I had my shelter up and was sitting behind the two regular rods feeling strangely confident?  Last time I’d fished here I hadn’t had a bite!  I fished a running leger with a long hooklength at close to medium range, bait either small squid or crab on a 1/0 hook.  The other was the usual pulley rig baited with squid which I launched as far as I could into the grey mass.  I’ll never break any records but there is something enjoyable about launching a rig as far as possible into the briny and after the fast flowing places I’ve been fishing it was nice to have the opportunity to do so.  The wind was from the west blowing over my shoulder but the sea was pretty flat with just small waves, bang on for a Ray maybe?

I sat back on my chair which was well back in the shelter today as the sun was above me and showers were forecast later.  To begin with I gave the baits a decent soak but still they came back in one piece.  After two hours I’d seen a couple of bumps on the tip but nothing I could strike at and I wondered why the hell I’d come here again?  If I was honest it was because I couldn’t be arsed with a long walk so this would be my punishment.  I battled the normal onset of paranoia and won, for some reason I had a feeling I’d catch something today.  Just over an hour before high tide I had a decent rattle on the light rod but this didn’t develop, hopefully things would pick up through the peak?

Twenty minutes later I had a good pull down bite on the heavy rod but wound down into something solid.  I held the bend in the rod hoping to shift something but it seemed like I’d snagged.  I wound down again but the line gave way, bugger!  It hadn’t gone at the leader knot as expected but somewhere along the way, I stripped off a couple of yards of line that was rough to the touch and tackled up again.  Every tide shifts and scours, snags appear where they never were before and in time vanish again.  A few minutes later the light rod banged properly then went slack.  I wound down quickly and made contact with something giving a decent resistance.  I expected a Dogfish but as I pumped it close to the shore it decided it didn’t want to be there and powered off which was unexpected and had me striding down the slope to follow it, probably a decent Bass?  I used the next wave to help bring the fish onto the beach and bugger me it was a Smoothound a couple of feet long and gorgeous!

I had to snap a quick picture of this rare visitor before getting it back into the sea, that was what I really wanted to catch, albeit a bit bigger but even this small one had made my day.  By now we were minutes away from high tide and things were happening.  The heavy rod started rattling then bent over and I wound in a good sized Dogfish without any problem then launched another squid eastward.  Twenty minutes later the same rod bent over again and I wound into a decent weight that was moving and felt like a good Ray.  I was only just beginning to contemplate this when the rod sprung back, the line had gone again, this time at the bloody reel!  After a bit of head scratching and examination I actually reached for the glasses and located a groove worn into the roller.  With no tools with which to adjust the reel I was now down to one rod.

I decided to switch the light rod to a pulley rig which I could propel a bit further as most bites were coming at distance but I figured I’d missed my chance due to faulty tackle or more to the point, failure to check.  Things had certainly slowed down but there were still the odd fishy vibrations on the tip then at 1350 a decent bite and a fish with a bit of substance.  I slowly dragged the fish to shore and a Ray of three pounds or so appeared on a wave, this lessened the blow a bit.  Another forty five minutes passed before I had another strikable bite from which I managed to land another doggie.  By now it was approaching 1500 so I had one more cast after which I got away well ahead of rush hour.  Mixed feelings today, I’d caught a couple of pleasing fish but it should have been more now where’s me screwdriver?

Not as expected

My day off was hectic, jobs to do, places I needed to be, bait to collect and hanging on a telephone call but by 1730 I was on the road in glorious sunshine, I picked up Rich and an hour later we stood in front of the estuary at low tide.  We deliberately got there early so we could have a good look at all the humps, bumps and gullies that would be covered by the rising tide, plenty of places to drop a bait later.

We fished two rods each with Ragworm on long hooklengths and to begin with things went as we expected.  The fading light brought a run of bites, on Rich’s side of the swim at least and he caught five Bass with each being a little bigger than the last, right up to a new PB.  I on the other hand, fishing yards away, couldn’t get a bite!  As the flood progressed so the tide got stronger and was carrying all sorts of snotty, weedy shit which after a while meant fishing any further than twenty yards out was almost impossible.  Just as well we’d had our scout around at low tide as these features were definitely in play.

Just like our previous trip the bites started to slow up and it looked like I was heading for a blank but eventually I had a few pulls and landed an Eel and two small Bass which I was delighted to see.  The last of these took a bait just under-armed out four or five yards landing on the seaward side of a large clay boulder.  We ran out of gas as well as bait half an hour before high tide so packed up and yomped back through the marshes.  Not what we were expecting when we set off but by now I should know better!

A bright sunny Saturday with a light northerly breeze, by the time my workday was done and the errands run, I had a cross county drive to the estuary and it was 1810 before I had a cast.  To begin with I ignored the bait rods and concentrated on fishing with lures using shads and spoons.  I worked my way to the creek mouth where there were fish swirling!  Surely I had a chance?  I chopped and changed; a spinner and a couple of small plugs (remember when we called them plugs? Why was that?) but I never had a touch, which didn’t seem possible…

By 1900 I was sat on my arse behind the tripod soaking a couple of ragworms.  On the light rod I used the normal running leger but on the old carp rod that I’ve been using I chucked out a Dyson rig, aiming to keep the bait off bottom.  I’ve tried this rig a few times, a couple of hours here and a couple there but apart from a couple of sharp bangs I’m yet to succeed in actually catching anything.  I gave the rig an hour but in shallow water with a tide still receding it didn’t inspire confidence and I switched back to a leger rig.  2000, I’d been there two hours but by this time the sun was getting low in the sky and the occasional pluck or rattle disturbed the tips.  There may have been more than this but my concentration was divide as I’d been persevering with the lure rod from time to time, still without a touch.

The sun had slipped below the horizon by 2030 and a few minutes later I had a decent rattle on the old carp rod then shortly after this a decent bang on the tip but I was way too slow.  An hour quickly passed with just the occasional quick pulls on the tip that had stopped before my backside had left the chair.  I had two good solid bites which any capable angler should have hit but I didn’t.  I’ve had other nights like this when I know there are fish about but whatever I do I can’t hook them.  The answer would be to hold a rod but there’s just so much to do when sea fishing.  I did wind a sea creature in during this period but this was crusty and had claws.  Things weren’t going to plan and my mind started to play those tricks…

2155, to this point almost all the action had come on the old carp rod fished on the right of the swim and it was this rod that signalled a good bite which I actually managed to hook.  I carefully steered the fish into the shallows where a nice ‘medium’ sized Bass appeared in the torch beam, it then shook its head and threw the hook, bugger!  Ten minutes later the same rod bent over properly but once again I didn’t hook up.  I’m starting to think the carp rod is just not right for this job and the fish aren’t hooking themselves against the sloppy tip.  Actually, I think I worked this out this time last year and probably the one before that.

The tide was now coming back in and small waves were rolling onto my little beach, the annoying finicky bites continued but from now on they were all on the right hand rod.  I missed another good bite then minutes later struck at a movement and felt weight but it wasn’t pulling back, another crab waved its pincers at me.  I looked at my watch – 2240 – I looked back and the tip was moving again, would you believe another bloody crab!  This continued, every time my concentration wandered something would happen, on another night I’d hook these bites, maybe there were only small fish about tonight?

It seems like every time I fish in salt water I reach a point when I am mentally defeated and it is only then that my luck changes.  At 2250 another bite on the light rod and hallelujah, I manged to hook it and it even dragged it onto the beach, a small fish but a Bass at last.  Ten minutes later the same rod was jumping in the tripod and I hooked a second fish.  This had a bit of weight to it and at one point got snagged behind one of many obstacles in this area.  I walked down the beach and the change of angle freed the fish and I soon had a proper Bass on the beach, a definite ‘keeper’ had I been that way inclined, which I wasn’t. 

After that I didn’t get another bite, not even a rattle, on either rod.  I fished till just after midnight by which time my energy was sagging so it was time to go.  A strange trip which like the previous one hadn’t gone how I’d expected but every time I learn a little more, or in this case re-learn.  My drive home had RTJ3 for a soundtrack and entertainment provided by loads of rabbits, a deer and a startled badger.

I’ve managed four trips in a fortnight for these spring Bass but that might be my last.  Darkness is without doubt the trigger that switches these fish on but as the evenings draw out this obviously comes later.  Last year the fishing tailed off sharply towards the end of the month and I am certainly in need of a change of scenery.

A good hike and a contented walk

It was a workday with a glimmer of fishy opportunity from late afternoon but after recent beach fishing experiences could I be arsed?  I talked myself into a few hours on an estuary, I’d travel light – soak a squid and have a good go with the lure rod, hoping for a Bass.  But after a phone call from a mate in the tackle shop I’d half a pound of rag on hold and plans had changed to humping the whole kit down to the point.  With my shift finished I demolished a pizza, loaded up then got away.  First I had to head into Town where I swooped into AD to pick up the bait, then a frustrating drive east before finally pulling up in a secluded car park.  Next I had a good hike towards the shore and as I put one foot in front of the other, the sound of the wind through the trees made me think that leaving the shelter behind might not be such a good idea, when will I learn?

Finally around 1800 I had a couple of rods out, two running leger rigs were holding baits down in the boiling waters off ‘the point’, I’d mostly be fishing for Bass but with a chance of flatfish and who knows else, it’s the sea after all.  On the heavy rod I had a small whole squid which I’d allow to soak and on the light rod it was ragworm all the way.  Today was forecast to be the last of the warm spell we’ve been having and the northerly wind made it clear the air had changed already.  The evening may have been bright but was cooler than it looked, the water was crystal again and I’d brought a few lures which I chucked around from time to time with enthusiasm if not confidence.  By the time I’d arrived high tide was two hours behind me so I’d be fishing it down which is not ideal in theory but this time last year it had made no difference, the coming of darkness had been the key.

At 1920 I noticed a flutter on the tip of the light rod, then again seconds later.  After the blank last time I was keen to actually catch something so I got to my feet in anticipation but of course nothing happened until I sat down again.  This time the tip shook with purpose and I found myself winding a fish in.  The bite hadn’t been at all Bass-like so I wondered what was on the end but it came off in close so I’ll never know.  Whatever it was it had lifted my confidence as it had been several hours since I’d last seen a bite.  The next couple of casts brought tremors and rattles but nothing I could strike at, then it went quiet and I wondered if I’d missed my chance.  I tried my luck with the lure rod from time to time, spoons and shads mostly but I don’t know where to start and didn’t feel a bite. Perhaps I’d been over hasty in this mad scramble to get to the seaside, I should have thought it through a bit more.  Oh well, it was a nice place to sit on my backside, I’d heard my first cuckoo of the year earlier and a Tawney Owl sounded like it was just waking up.  Every minute now saw the light fade a little more, this should have increased my confidence but instead I began to plan my getaway, how much longer should I give it?

At 2120 the light rod banged and rattled in the tripod, not even I could miss it, there was a bit of weight on the end and a swirl on the surface.  With tackle like this strength isn’t an issue but I bring these fish in patiently so as not to pull the hook out, I soon had a nice Bass of a couple of pounds or so at my feet.  A photo worthy fish at any time but especially when things haven’t been going to plan recently and my departure was delayed.  Twenty minutes later I had a repeat performance, the fish if anything fought a little harder but was actually slightly smaller.  Another twenty minutes and another bite, my third Bass was the smallest so far, around half the size of the first.  I was tired so it was time to go but I chucked a fresh ragworm out again while I tidied up the rest of the kit and while I was doing so the tip started banging again.  I hooked another decent weight but this didn’t fight like the previous ones and my final fish of the night was a Doggy.

This was another day when I felt I was leaving a few fish out there but I get to a point where enough is enough.  In these wild environments I find that just being there can be in a way, draining and there is usually a feeling of relief when I close the door against the wind and waves, yes I’m getting old.  That makes it sound like I don’t enjoy it but this is miles wide of the mark and I’m making plans to get back soon.  This part of the world is as wild as our island gets and driving home I saw several Muntjac, a couple of Foxes, Rabbits galore and had to stop the car to allow nine Deer to cross the road.  Enough there for an episode of ‘Springwatch’ but fishing in wild places we almost take it for granted.

 

I had plenty of Ragworm left so these were well wrapped then sneaked into the back of the fridge where I hoped they’d enjoy a few days of slumber before I could get back to the river.  A couple of days later I set off in the middle of evening rush hour, swung in to pick up Rich then took the circular route out to the coast. To be fair the traffic wasn’t as bad as expected but I was in no hurry and our journey was painless, drenched in conversation.  We pulled into possibly the most secure car park in the country, loaded up then hiked towards the estuary and ten minutes later stood looking out from the point.

Rich, like me, is a Piker and only an occasional beachcaster, this was his first visit to this spot where he hoped to experience the Bass fishing I’d bent his ears about a year ago.  My previous visit had been promising, it looked like the Bass were in the same areas and behaving in the same way they this time last year.  I’d carted the beach shelter this time which provided a bit of a windbreak but this evening felt more comfortable than previous.  We’d be fishing the tide one up then down for as long as we were enjoying it but evidence so far suggests that is largely irrelevant, darkness is key.  By 1840 we were relaxing in our chairs, each fishing two rods, soaking up the atmosphere of the estuarine environment.

The fishing started slowly as expected but this gave us plenty of time for a chat and as time began to tick by and the light gradually faded, things started to happen.  To begin with just rattles and taps on ragworm and I had one violent bang on squid but there was nothing we could strike at.  Before we knew it darkness had swallowed us and as always the doubts started to creep in.  Then at 2125 I had the first proper bite of the night and beached our first fish, a bass of eight ounces or so.  The recast had hardly settled before the rod was banging again and I had a similar sized Bass doing its best to spike me.  We got ourselves settled again and were hoping it would be Rich’s turn next but my rod folded over like a Barbel bite and I wound into a better fish which held its own then charged up and down at close range.  After allowing it to knacker itself on a short line I dragged my best Bass of the season onto the shore.

Soon after this Rich got off the mark with his first Bass for a few years and for an hour bites came regularly to both of us.  Rich’s next fish was a better one that gave him a bit of bother amongst some rocks before he managed to drag it ashore.  He was well chuffed with a fish around two pounds which he thought was probably his biggest Bass from the shore.  When they get to this size Bass really do have a go at fighting, despite having no real chance against the kind of tackle we have to use.  My next fish was another good one which managed to go round the other line before succumbing, a nice fish at any time and it’s not often we’ll see two bigger ones the same night.  By 1130 our combined total was ten fish but things were beginning to slow down.  What bites we had were more plucks and flutters although Rich managed to wind in another Bass and an Eel.

Around 1230 we were running out of bait so loaded all the chunks and lumps of worm we had left onto our four hooks then slung them out into the ebb while we tidied the rest of our kit away.  We didn’t leave the rods too much longer, tonight our energy had outlasted the feeding spell but by now we’d had enough and we had a decent hike ahead of us.  This would be a contented walk though because for once things had actually gone to plan.

...nobody told Ray

Late afternoon and I was getting ready for an evening on the beach, a message which I’d been expecting but dreading came through, bless you V, never to be forgotten.

I need to get out now, head for somewhere peaceful and get my head around this stuff.  By 1800 I was sitting behind the tripod, two rod tips against a hazy blue backdrop.  I’d travelled light tonight and the north easterly breeze was enough to make me wish I’d brought the shelter with me.  The sea was pretty flat though the smallish waves did break with energy, still it looked good for a Ray, to me at least.  Baits were mostly squiddy bits though I did try chunks of bluey from time to time.  Rigs were the usual but honestly, how much does it matter?  The beach below me was totally different to when I was last here, the gully had gone and all the WW2 leftovers were buried under sand and shingle once again.  The sea was coming towards me with high tide due at 2340 though whether I’d last that long was debatable.

I sat and contemplated things we don’t want to think about but smiled too at happy memories.  The baits were getting long soaks as nothing rattled the tips; on the light rod dropped in close the bait was coming back whole but the baits given a heave were getting nibbled by something, probably crabs.  I’m never bothered by crabs (?), I see this as something that will attract the interesting species and with this in mind I switched the light rod over to a pulley rig which enables me to punch a bait out a bit further.  Two hours in, the light was noticeably dimming and with that the breeze was easing off and the waves shrinking.  It really did feel good for a Ray and now should be the time but still the tips were stationary and I was getting to that weekly mindset where I feel like extracting anything from the salty grey mass is impossible.  But the very next time I winched in the heavy rod I found a small Whiting had impaled itself.

Another hour sped past and by this time the tip lights were lit and the headtorch had replaced the shades sitting on the brim of my hat.  I could have sworn the heavy rod tip made a different movement and when I this repeated a minute later I had to check it.  I wound it in but there was nothing there and the squid was still whole so went out for another swim.  Within minutes the same rod tip was thumping for sure and this was the start of a spell where every cast brought a decent bite but I failed to hook anything at all.  What’s more the baits were coming back almost untouched, what was going on?  Whatever it was, perhaps a whole squid was a bit too big…  I wondered if a shoal of small Bass had moved in so I switched the lighter rod from bluey to a small squid and whacked it out.  Now both rods were banging but I missed a couple more before I finally dragged a Dogfish up the beach after an hour of almost constant action.

A few minutes later the other rod banged over and there was a decent weight on the end this time, would this be a Ray?  No it was a good sized Doggie in a seriously bad mood and with that I decided I’d had enough.  To be honest after a few years the novelty of catching Dogs and Whiting has worn well thin and I need something more interesting to keep me out there when tiredness starts to creep up.  So having managed to calm my swirling brain and catch a couple of fish I packed up and tramped back to the car.  I shut the sound of the waves out, started and cranked the stereo up, playing a song for a friend.

 

It seems the Rays have moved away, I believe they move up the estuaries to spawn?  Anyway the most interesting target for the next few weeks is Bass so time for a change of approach.  I had hoped to have a midweek go on a river mouth spot but forgot to order the bait!  I had time to fish but where do I go and what should I do?  The Tardis needed a bit of a sort out and I considered rigging up a couple of rods to fish sweetcorn on a little pit I’m yet to explore but this didn’t inspire so in the end I got ready for another session on an open beach but further north than I’ve been so far this year, or should I try a river mouth, just give it a go with the baits I have?

Spot the difference...

I had a slow journey on mid week roads and set up as the fun boat disappeared into the haze, a daytime tide for a change.  I was fishing by 1000, four hours before hight tide on a clear, warm day with just a feather of cloud in the hazy blue sky.  The sun had enough power to make me put sun cream on ginger skin but the north easterly breeze kept the temperature comfortable, what most people would describe as a glorious spring day.  The water was virtually flat with just the tiniest waves and the north sea was actually blue for once and as clear as I’d ever seen it.  Should have brought a lure rod!  There were a couple of other anglers about and inevitably the weather attracted other humans to the beach, some of whom were daft enough to actually get in and judging by the screams it wasn’t as comfortable as it looked. 

From my seat there were four Martello towers visible, over two hundred years old and despite the harshest environment they are still solid, in fact many are holiday homes nowadays.  But why here I wonder?  What is it or was it about this stretch of coast that needed such defences? Probably the same reason I’m here, deep water close in.

A Herring Gull kept me company for most of the morning.  I’m usually suspicious of these bait stealing fuckers but for some reason today I felt charitable and chucked a piece of rancid squid which it swallowed in a gulp but maybe I’ve poisoned it?  To be fair after that the gull behaved itself, it kept its distance and I chucked it scraps of bait which rarely hit the stones.  Every now and then it would take to the air, circle the bay and chase away any other gulls that may interrupt its food supply before returning to keep a hopeful eye on me.

Towards high tide the breeze picked up and felt cool, the turn of the tide saw it run harder than expected.  I fished big baits and small baits, tried them at all kinds of ranges from close to as far as I could chuck it.  Bait was mostly squid but I also tried fishy chunks and strips.  The conditions meant the rod tips were virtually still so any bites would have been easy to spot but I didn’t get any, not one and the baits were coming back in one piece.  Once again it looked good for a Ray but... and what I’d have given for a Whiting or a Dogfish this morning!  I got it totally wrong today and in the absence of any fishy photos here, (gasp!) is some video!