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?