Local-ish

Back home and back to more ‘normal’ fishing, the stuff I’m more used to.  The spooky Chub on the upstream stretch had been bugging me so I plotted their downfall.  I’d fish pellets and hemp, sneak in an hour before dusk and winkle one out.  Somebody must have warned them as when I got there I couldn’t see a sign of them.  I fished anyway although without confidence, I couldn’t see site nor sign of a fish so doing a bit of exploring would be a good use of time.  I had a couple of moves downstream, searching new swims and learned a bit more but didn’t get a rattle.  I still haven’t caught a Chub from this stretch and on the last two visits I haven’t even seen one.  I like a challenge but this one might have to wait a while.

Autumn is happening quickly this year and the nights are drawing in, soon I’ll have other things on my mind so Mr T and I arranged an evening on the beach while it’s still a comfortable place to be.  In theory at least.  The forecast mid week looked bang on and the high tide was due around midnight so we pencilled in a trip to Radar after Rays.  When I checked the weather on the Saturday morning it was all wrong, fresh to strong from south south west, we’d need to fish somewhere that would give us a bit of shelter.  This didn’t matter one bit as fishing with Mr T is mostly about having a good yarn and a laugh, too many fish could be a distraction.

After a slow drive east we arrived at the Steep beach to find it unusually quiet so we walked down and were fishing the bay by around 1800.  We launched the baits out then sat in front of the shelter with a beer and began to put the world to rights.  The wind wasn’t anywhere near as strong as had been forecast and I thought we’d have been alright at Radar after all.  But as time passed the wind strength increased, it seemed to be getting stronger minute by minute and the rod tips were wobbling constantly, spotting a bite might be a challenge.  Because the wind was mostly off the land the waves weren’t that big, all the movement on the rods was caused by the wind.  As the light faded I had an unmistakable bite on the heavy rod and found myself winching something quite heavy back towards the beach.  Could it be a Ray or a big Bass?  Whatever it was it didn’t want to come into the shallow water but I timed a wave right and there it was - or rather here they were.  I’d mounted a whole squid onto a Pennell and there was a small dogfish on each hook.  I don’t think that has happened to me before?

Darkness brought no drop in the wind, instead it got stronger and it dominated the rest of the evening as there was just no respite.  It was impossible to see any bites but despite this Trev wound in a Dogfish and we both had a couple of Whiting each.  Any time we left the shelter the wind threatened to blow us off our feet and wobbled the tripods on a couple of occasions.  Somehow it was strong enough to blow the material of the shelter from beneath the piles of pebbles I always use to secure it.  It didn’t take off at any point but it splayed and got lower until it touched our heads.  By 2130 it had become ridiculous and the beach was beginning to feel a hostile place to be.  For once we were sensible, packed up quickly and got ourselves out of there.

Six months ago I was embracing spring and a complete change of fishing style now it is well and truly autumn and it’s nearly time to switch back.  Things haven't gone to plan with my 'local-ish' fishing for the last couple of months so a change of scenery could be coming at the right time.  I’ll probably continue to dabble for Chub or maybe Perch in the next few weeks and months but I’m unlikely to visit the beach for a good while now as I’m definitely a fair weather angler in that brutal environment.  The next few months are definitely Pike time though, wish me luck.