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.
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