Lowestoft Codling Hunt...28/01/08

It’s impossible to have an early start on a Monday and so Essexbuoy was dragged inside upon arrival, given a cuppa and hung around while I packed everyone off to nursery, school and college. We then had a leisurely fry up to save me the hassle of making sarnies before kitting up and heading for the beach.

What a morning! Calm sea, no wind, bright sunshine, blue skies and a nice spring-like temperature. Couldn’t be better…



Made me feel quite snap-happy it did!



Set up, we launched for the paddle out to the Stanford buoy, more or less straight out and a decent mark. A couple of hundred yards out and the sound of throbbing acme from inside the harbour, soon followed by those lovely chaps in the orange boat



I imagine they wanted to do some practicing as they opened up in front of us and gave us a bit of white water to play in – which passed cleanly under the Trident and cleanly over the Elite!!



The current in the bay is pretty mild and we had an easy few hundred metres before getting further out into the tide. High tide was in 3 ½ hours so we were in the thick of it then. Steve was looking rather photogenic and so I snapped a couple of trophy shots



I think about halfway to the buoy he’d made up his mind to get a rudder sometime as I was going more or less straight while he was having to correct regularly and therefore losing a bit of speed – although to be fair as leader you do set the pace. We were in the full flow by now and quite a way out



On arrival a bit further south than the intended buoy (actually the next one along, South Holm) we dropped anchor and tried to fish. I dunno, it didn’t matter where I positioned the anchor warp, the lines were moving around, the leads were bouncing a bit and the yak was turning here and there. I guess current and wind were at odds with each other. And what a current!



At least I was holding bottom at just under 30 feet of water. Full fathom five. Steve had drifted quite a way down and so I headed down to stay with him, nothing doing where I was in the preceding time and hard work detecting a bite if it came. Good reception out here.



And he’s got a phone on it too – tables turned!



We drifted down a bit more, past Pakefield and the Newcombe buoy and eventually after a couple more pulling anchors managed to ‘get a grip’ off Kessingland just short of the East Barnard buoy. That’s the last one for a long way! I actually had in mind recently to fish a Y-shaped hole the other side of it that drops down to 22 metres but because another boat was there and we’d finally managed to hold bottom I decided that I’d stay where we were in 36 feet.

So we sat there.

For a while.

The current had eased off.

So we sat.

And waited.

Until finally I had a tap on double squid on a 4/0 pennel. I grabbed the rod, finger on the line and waited for it to develop.

Tap tap.

Okay, he’s still there. I don’t want to bring it up too early.

Tap tap.

Okay, up you come…



All I can see is squid.



It felt good against the current and from that depth.



And it was alright, sizeable and with a full belly



Beauty, first saltwater species for the year, a nice east coast codling of a round a couple of pounds. Now it was Steve’s turn.

Not that he was in a burry mind. So we waited.

And waited.

For about an hour, when



Winding it in, he was rewarded with a 4lb+ Lowestoft codling, the best I’ve seen off here from a yak to date. It was pleasing to know that we’d both avoided a blank especially as the bites were very, very rare.



About an hour later I decided it was time I had another and no sooner had I said this then the rod went down again. I picked it up, let it develop, then reeled in. I could feel the fish on for about ¼ of the way up and then

Nothing.

It’d taken the head off the squid without getting hooked and so my second bite of the day failed to bring me a fish.

Slack tide came and Steve drifted closer



And away again



And after another half an hour of slack, moving lines we decided to head back towards the earlier buoys. The fog had rolled in over the coastline by now and we up anchored and secured stuff down for the paddle back to the Newcombe buoy.

Wherever the hell that was. We were now getting fogged in.

It appeared briefly and we made a beeline for it, quite a paddle and I saw my old mate the harbour porpoise again, just a couple of glimpses 100 yards away, which made me all excited in case I got to see him close up again but alas he didn’t stay around and we carried on for the buoy, anchoring up just short of it to have one last try in 40ft of water.



As an idea, we were maybe 300 metres at most from it



Even the gulls were sitting it out



Then Steve was in



It was big. It wasn’t a snag as it was moving, slightly, but was very heavy. I tried to keep an eye on things but I appeared to be moving around a bit. I checked my warp and it seemed to be at a funny angle. I put two and two together and gave it a tug. Then another. Steve appeared happy that at least he was getting a fight from what must be a fish after all. Then he twigged that I was tugging my warp and watching his rod tip bend! I hauled in and unhooked him but ended up a bit further out when the anchor held again. I’d had enough now, the fog was no worse but wasn’t going to improve and it was now 3pm so we decided to head in as I’d told the coastguard we’d be in around 4. We could actually see bugger all and I turned on the GPS for a quick double check on position and direction (low voltage warning had come up earlier so I was using it sparingly, I suspect wet leads had drained the battery somewhat quicker than usual). We headed in on the compass, going off course on occasion when nattering (look over your left shoulder when you paddle and you will veer left. Try it.) And the fog started to improve slightly with distance, enough that I could see my way home after a while. Glad I fitted that compass, wish I’d brought my spare battery as an emergency reserve. We were never in ‘danger’ or anything, and with 2 mobiles, VHF and flares plus spare anchors each we were well provided for if we had to call anyone, but had it been a week ago then it would have just been the mobiles and anchors so now I know that it was money definitely well spent.

Halfway back we swapped paddles, me using the Simply Magic while Steve had a go with the Enchantment Carbon. Immediate difference – not so much in the pulling power from my seat but in the length of the paddle – mine is long, Steve’s was short and took a few minutes to get used to. The blade difference was noticeable too, as a tourer the Enchantment likes wide strokes where I could dig vertically with the Magic and move just as well although I would imagine I’d find it harder work over distance and the additional weight started to tell after a while. We went a bit north of where we wanted to be ideally and had to come in the last quarter of a mile against the current. It was starting to get boring now as we were chatting and thus paddling gently making little headway. We got cracking instead and headed in.

#

Coming past the groyne where we were going to beach, over the stern of Steve's yak I saw a seal - the closest I’ve ever seen one here! At least I think it was a seal, maybe a porpoise as it was very dark, but it disappeared and I didn’t spot it again. I thought of phoning my wife to come and have a look with the kids but it wasn’t actually necessary as it turned out…





I was rather chuffed as it’s only the second time they’ve been there when I’ve come back in (last time was the October meet when the sight of 5 yaks coming in together was apparently really good!). The girls were happy too as they were able to see our fish as well as the landing (very undramatic, very slight swell). My mum was also with them and being used to seeing my auntie’s boatloads of tuna etc was rather under impressed with my codling! Yeah mum, I don’t have twin 150hp outboards and a tropical reef to fish…still, time to load up and go back for coffee.



With fish pics first of course



That one deserved a closer pic



Now, who mentioned relief zips? We felt like Dorado after that day out!





And no matter how hard I tried my codling just wouldn’t grow…



Back we went, coffee, children, noise, smoked codling, smoked cod roe and deep-fried battered codling with chips and then it was time for Steve to head back down to Essex. Thanks for coming up mate, I’ll see you down your neck of the woods soon!

Out on the Waveney Again...17/01/08

It seems like ages since I last got out on the yak for a spot of fishing. Today is Thursday and last time was Monday. Either I am too used to the good life or my home life is getting unbearable. Or maybe, just maybe, the challenge I have set myself to catch as many different UK species as I can this year is giving me an extra bit of encouragement to get out there as often as I can get away with. Well, yesterday was a super day to fish and today was going to be far less appealing according to the forecast but it was the day I could get and so I got up a bit earlier and went outside to move the car around to the back and load up. Thankfully I was taking the box with my camera out at the time because this was how my day began:



That’s got to be the most stunning sunrise I have seen in my life. As I rarely get up early enough to witness them that can be taken as no exaggeration.

I dropped the girls off at nursery and school, wearing my mukluks and with the Trident on the roofbars, and set course for Geldeston on the upper Waveney. I was after species and figured that this was a good place as I have had perch, roach, dace and rudd here and have seen carp and heard of tench from here too, all target species. The launch point is next to the Lock Inn, which is itself next to the limit of navigation for powered craft. I wasn’t the only person fishing here today:



Not him. There were a couple of pikers on the bank who said they’d had one jack. The water was coloured and the very high – it was also flowing strongly, both a legacy of the week’s rain.



Still, I wasn’t going to let that stop me and paddled against the flow for a few minutes until reaching my first mark, where the river branches off to shallow water but has a decent sized hole at the confluence:



Maggots, sweetcorn and blue cheese were the baits and I’d made up a load of groundbait from breadcrumb, oats, Shreddies (the kids weren’t eating them), maggots and sweetcorn, lobbed them in and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And stopped waiting and went upstream another mile. It’s quite desolate out on the marshes at this time of year, not as green and lush as in spring and summer (when the water here is gin clear) but Norfolk marshland been a part of my life for nearly 30 years so even when it is like this it’s still pleasant.



And waited.

And said bollocks, went back to the launch point, tried in the backwater there and then loaded the yak on the car and headed for Beccles again.

I launched down by the quay and paddled past the dozen or so pole fishermen with their keepnets, past the piker on the corner and out into the river proper. The flow was pretty fierce here too and the anchor wasn’t gripping so I tied off to a fender again and fished the mouth of the boatyard.



And waited

My mate Digsworth phoned up for a chat which was a welcome break from the boredom of blanking and we nattered away about nothing much for a while and then I hung up. I’d got my first bite you see.

I struck it and in came in my ninth skimmer of the year - a Common Bream.



It wasn’t really struggling much on the line but once I unhooked it it started to play a bit more



Sit still you bugger



Nothing was doing in the next half an hour so I tried the bay by the bridge but the current was pounding the hell out of this area and so I only stayed a few minutes. Next stop was a dyke out of the current and both lines went down.

I missed seeing a bite and was reeling in to move when I felt a fish on!



Skimmer


Half-decent though, around half a pound



Got the hook out and popped it back to swim away, rebaited, cast and reeled in the other rod. I’d also missed seeing that bite (Bream can be very light biters). A bit smaller but reasonable.



So then, a hat-trick of juvenile Common Bream.



It was time to move again and see if I could find anything near another boatyard



No. I decided to spend the last 45 minutes seeing if the roach were in the quayside basin where the bank anglers were and went and tied off to a mooring ring.


I had the lines in the water for ten minutes when I got a good bite. I missed it.

Then 5 minutes later a shake. Which I also missed. I downsized the maggot baits.

Shake. Nothing.

Bite. Nothing.

Rattle. Nothing.

I missed 8 bites from memory, of varying strength, and all had sucked out half of the maggot concerned. I reckon tiny roach were the culprits. Next time I’m in Beccles I’m going to try for them and maybe a big pike on the corner with a bait as I heard an 18 lb’er came out today and I want to get a twenty again this year. Ah, it’s nice to have targets…

A couple of hours of Midwinter Paddling...14/01/08

I reckon that anyone selling a yak when they have another to use should offer to take the purchaser paddling at least or fishing at best. After all it’s an excuse to get on the water…

Around 2-ish Nick turned up at mine while I was out hunting for a free-range chicken (been watching telly last week) and was already well into a coffee upon my return. He charmed my wife far quicker than I have ever managed clearly. As the yaks were already loaded up (my brace of Prowler 15’s) a quick donning of wet gear was followed by a trip down to the broad to ensure no mice had chewed their way through the hull.

Unloaded, we launched on the slipway and Nick had his first experience of sitting in a Prowler. It was at this point that he noticed that there was not only water beneath him but also that he couldn’t see bottom:



But he wasn’t daunted and paddled out into a beautiful, sunny midwinter afternoon.



I stuck a couple of rods out with Super Shad Raps – bigger lures for winter where possible as a pike won’t waste winter energy on a mouthful but goes for a bellyful of grub if it presents itself – while Nick got used to paddling. We skirted the margins on the south of the broad with the only hook-up being a post behind the houseboats. Up the top, where the dyke begins that leads into the Waveney, Nick had clearly got the hang of things and was at ease:



But he hadn’t seen one of my famous broadland pike. So we carried on down the other side towards the Wherry Hotel where he had stayed on occasion in the past. I decided that we ought to head into the ‘dead end’ – the bay on the northeast – where I’ve seen good fish come out of but have never had a hook-up and then skirt back up to the launch point and beyond.

The wind was pretty strong on this side of the broad and the direction pretty much drove us into the dead end. There was a fair chop on the water too but the 15’s cut through it with ease. Because the water was high (at least a fathom!), the wind was up and it was cold I had kind of given up on a pike as I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of one in the last few weeks when

zzzzz



Hook-up

I thought it had got off as it didn’t put up a fight at this point – winter pike being more lethargic than the summer ones that leap around and tailwalk. In fact it went stiff as a board for a while.



It came to life alongside though. It didn’t fancy being chinned by an ugly bastard I a stupid hat and started to thrash, turn and generally tried to show me its tail. I was slower than normal in chinning it too as the gill cover closest to me was the one with the lure closest to it and two trebles going into my hand would not have been amusing so I had to turn it to chin it effectively. I soon managed it:



This was where Nick really became a friend! I am unused to the luxury of having someone to record my captures and while straightforward record shots are nice it’s always good to have a pic of oneself with a fish and Nick took to this role with aplomb:



Nice huh?



Look at those teeth – like a tiny wee kitten. How sweet! I showed Nick the teeth and how they go backwards and aren’t really anything to worry about (unless you’re a roach) and he mentioned that I might not want to kiss it. This actually seemed like a very good idea for my first pike of the year and is something I have had to do with sharks in the distant past – sharks should be kissed for good luck you see (unless you are in the water of course) and so I gave it a smacker on the snout and slid it back into the water.



It had fallen to a Redhead and my lucky hat had helped no end. Even if I did look like Jed Clampett.

We paddled off to the Wherry where we tied up and I had a celebratory smoke before we paddled back up the broad (Nick using my Carlisle posh paddle this time to see what the difference was) with my wife’s ex-Prowler 15 heading off into the setting sun.



With it getting dark we landed back at out launch point and had a natter with another friendly local piker with a somewhat larger vessel. A nice chap who mentioned being able to make a brew onboard. Info filed for the future…!

Well, being late in we had to load up hurriedly to get back as I had my parents coming for dinner and Nick wanted to drive back down south with his new baby on the roofbars so it was time to bid farewell to her, happy in the knowledge that it was going to a good home with someone who had a few tips and a couple of miles paddling to help him on his way.

Nick, I wish you all the enjoyment i know that kayak can bring. May it be a safe, fun and lucky boat for you.