It began so well...Lowestoft...23/12/07

7:30, a silly time to get up when there is no school run but with fishing on the cards with excellent conditions predicted and after 7 weeks without saltwater on the yak I felt it would be churlish of me not to. So, I clambered into my Lidl thermals and Lidl Angora gear, stuck my Lidl skiing socks and hand knitted woollies on, with fleece trousers on top and went downstairs to find some protein. My father in law came down just as I was putting the finishing touches to fried tomato with two sausages, 3 rashers of back bacon, a handful of mushrooms and an egg to go with my coffee – and in a fit of compassion proceeded to save him from an ingestion of cholesterol and lard by scoffing the lot before his very eyes. I could tell he felt all the better for it. Then outside I went, fortified, and dragged out, set up and trolleyed-up the Trident and Prowler 15 for a day on the sea with a chap from another forum who’d had a go on the broad with me a couple of weeks back.

Scott turned up just after 8:30 and after calling up the coastguard we trundled down to the beach. There was ice on the yaks and it was very foggy with maybe 100 metres visibility but the water was calm, the wind was light and the air temperature was surprisingly mild, a nice morning on the beach.



I lent Scott my Extrasport cag and trousers and clambered into my Gul drysuit for the first time and put my Chota mukluks on over the top.



We launched just after 9, an hour after high water, and began paddling out for a mark I’d found on the charts that was 3.5 miles away – a hole of 22 metres surrounded by depths of 17.



Sadly the slack water was about done and we weren’t making headway so we went for plan B and headed on out to another mark near where I’d fished last time with Lozz and Gavstick, a mere 11 metres at the entrance to the Stanford Channel, between the Stanford and South Holm buoys.



The fog had started to lift and by the time we were in position visibility was getting pretty good and the sun was out. I had sweated like a monkey on the way out but the Lidl thermals had wicked it all away and I didn’t feel clammy at all – or cold. We’d spotted a couple of charter boats out on the way but these had headed for deeper water and the only sound was the lifeboat out for the usual Sunday morning training session.



Chucking down our anchors, I got my rods set up – Scott had already tackled up on the beach. Less than five minutes later and he was in – his first yak-caught fish, a codling that was just about sizeable but which went back.



Not that I was jealous or anything, mind. The upstart! Still, my turn came a few minutes later and I got a lovely thump. Bringing it up it felt a reasonable fish but I made the error of getting the camera out and ready and slacklined. Of course it dropped off and I swore. I was rather pissed off until, five minutes later (and a few missed bites for Scott) my rod went again, same rod with a 4/0 pennel holding blow lug and squid. Well, the camera was ready but I got it up on the surface first before messing about:



As ‘Wilson’ would say: “Do you think that’s wise…?” Oh, sorry, wrong Wilson. As the other, piscatorial, Wilson would say: “Oooh, yes, haha, ooh come to Johnny, ooh haha, ooh it’s not as big as I first thought haha…” Sorry, I digressed. However, it allows another photograph of the same fish to be inserted with a text break between pics:



Well, that was it, a lovely, plump 2.5lb codling with crabs in its belly and my hooks in its throat. A keeper:



Scott was hitting knocks as I let down again, and I kept hitting and missing them as well – the party was in full swing and I sent a text stating this. And that, sadly, was when our luck started to change. The current picked up as slack water finally ended and I noticed Scott creeping past. I’d given him the 0.75kg anchor, as the P15 is less buoyant than the Trident, while I had the 1.5kg on. While mine held fine his didn’t and after a couple of drifts we tied up to each other and then both started to drift. The leads were bouncing along and we were overtaking them – bites would not be seen and every now and then we got snagged and had that sudden rush of water that would make a great enema if it was internal but which makes you sh*t yourself without having to go to all that effort. It wasn’t funny so we lifted anchor. Or rather failed to, and I had to cut myself off (preferring to do that than ditch the line and buoy as I don’t know when I’ll get out next to retrieve it). Had I stuck to a mono link I’d have been able to pull the anchor inverted but the cable tie just wouldn’t go.

So, we decided to head inshore and after being passed by the lifeboat had to paddle like hell to crawl into the harbour, the current screaming down at a vast rate of knots. I was sweating out the louche living of the past few weeks and as knackering as it was it felt good. The swell was still almost zilch and we went and sat for a while inside the harbour, where a single shore crab volunteered for tomorrows bisque duty.



Bored, we headed back out and into the bay



Drifting out of any current, Scott managed a few tiny codling while I headed towards the rock breakwater by ‘kiddies corner’.



Here another crab jumped in but apart from that nothing so we decided to head south and maybe get in some fishing off Pakefield. We addled for a bit and then decided that as headway against the current was not particularly good we’d end up with limited fishing time so beached, broke down the gear and walked back to mine for a cuppa.



Do you think the yellow suits me?

Although we had a cracking start that turned into a comedy of errors it was a bloody good trip, very pleasant and a great escape from that pre-Christmas lunacy. Now I just have to get a pair of 1.5kg replacement anchors and get back out to get the ones I missed! I think Scott enjoyed it and I enjoyed having him along. I shall also enjoy the now-filleted cod that will be smoked tomorrow morning in time for my pot-caught Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow night. Have a good Christmas everyone and here’s to a few more tight lines before the New Year.