Hadn't the foggiest...10-12/10/08

Chomping at the bit all week and just not having the opportunity or energy to get out meant that by Friday evening I just didn’t care anymore – I was grabbing the yak, rods and gear ad heading to the beach. A few days of fine weather and a sea that looked flat and inviting every time I’d seen it (morning and evening) meant that as soon as the children were in bed I was downstairs kitting up for the short walk to the launch point. It was dark, of course, and I only had frozen squid and mackerel but when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go, right?

I got to the beach. I should have checked beforehand – the surf was rolling in. Ah well - in for a penny, in for a pound as they say and I dragged the Trident down the slope onto the sand and down to the water’s edge. Hmm, it looked interesting to say the least – a 4ft surf launch at night with just the promenade lights behind me.

I stashed the C-Tug in the front hatch and put everything in place before dragging the yak into the water. I sat there and waited for a bit more of a draught and then started to paddle my way out. Waves were crashing in front of me and boiling straight over the bow and front hatch – not something that often happens on a Trident – and the wind was pretty strong too, coming off my starboard side. I carried on a bit anyway and then tried to get my rudder down; by the time this was done I’d been blown to within 75 yards of the groyne. I had a choice now – go beam on and risk flipping as I headed up the beach, power my way out and hope I could keep a straight course or paddle backwards onto the beach. It was a tough decision but as I only had half a box of squid and I didn’t know what was the other side of the surf zone (or how far back the zone reached I decided, regrettably, to come in and wait until morning.

6am. Off went my alarm and excitedly I dragged myself from my warm and comfortable bed where the snug, goose-down duvet had encompassed my wife and I, skipping downstairs with all the joys of a spring lamb (and noise of a circus elephant) and made enough coffee to unstuck my eyelids. Twenty minutes later and I was off back to the beach with my yak.



The usual pre-launch routine of kitting up and dumping everything superfluous into the front hatch was completed in minutes and I launched, paddled out past the pier and watched the sun rise over the sea…magical.



It was quiet, the sea was pretty calm (2ft swell) and I had the place to myself as I headed south to Pakefield and the deeper hole off the groyne down from the CEFAS building. I knew I’d found it on arrival as I managed to drop a fair bit of anchor warp out. I settled down with three rods out, all with running leger pennels loaded with whole squid on two rods and a mackerel fillet on the third.



I was getting bites pretty regularly but the baits were too big for the multitude of Whiting I knew to be about. Of course there’s always one…



The by now shredded remains of the mackerel fillet had proved his undoing and he was swung into the Prowler 15.



Back it went. A while passed with loads more small bites and then another got hooked on the strike. I reeled in.



It may not look much but it was a probable PB Whiting (even if on the photograph it doesn’t look that large).



It was enough for a breakfast and so I decided to keep it and gutted it there and then. Stomach contents were a small crab and nothing else. I placed it I the footwell and carried on. Then I decided that really I ought to place it in the rear tankwell so I wouldn’t squash it…turning around it somehow slipped from my grasp and went overboard…I could touch it with my fingers but couldn’t grab it and it was gone…and took all the other fish with it - I was gutted. I had a few more bites before slack I didn’t hook into anything. Who cares..it was nice to be out…



By now I wasn’t alone either as a Cabo appeared near by – I know that yak! It was the summer lifeguards making use of the kit for a brief paddle.



I decided to follow them back as it was time to get on being around 9am by now – I ahd a picnic to make for a belated birthday party, plus photographs to drop off, squid to order and a caravan site to book. Inshore recce complete it was left until the next morning for an offshore session…

While duelling in the father’s play area at the zoo with foam-ball firing air cannons it was arranged with my friend Liam that he really ought to get up early and come for a paddle to see the sun rise. I’d sort him out a rod as well so he didn’t get bored at anchor – he doesn’t fish but enjoys a good paddle and often accompanies me to the pub (and taught me a few rudimentary paddling skills when I first got into it) .Finally convinced of the wisdom of my plan we both harassed his wife into allowing it…job’s a good ‘un ;d

That night I went out into the front garden on a whim and ran SOLAS tape around the gunwhales of my Trident 15. As one does.

5:30am. Am I really that masochistic? Why the hell did I set my alarm so early – Liam wasn’t due until just gone six. Ah yes, to get everything ready to drag down to the beach and get a brew made. Like I can do anything before a brew – I left the work until post-coffee and made the biggest pair of bacon sarnies in Christendom for the pair of us to consume instead ;d

Liam arrived and we got sorted. Force-fed, we got the yaks on the trolley’s and wandered down to the beach. It was starting to get less dark and was on the verge of getting light when we were just about set. Liam spotted a seal just off the launch site, soon followed by a second. I do like seeing them. I spotted a dead 4lb cod on the beach that wasn’t fresh enough to keep and wondered why it was there.



It was foggy. It varied between really foggy – when we arrived – and less foggy five minutes later. Then it started to clear quite quickly and our thoughts of heading south and inshore were changed back to thoughts of east and offshore. That was enough thinking so we launched.



I’d given Liam the Trident 15 and I was again in the Prowler 15 as I am used to anchoring and he isn’t so the additional stability would help. Also, as he didn’t have waterproof trousers on he’d have a drier ride – and it’s probably easier to fish from when it’s your first time. Being a good enough paddler to take it the couple of miles out to the channel and back also helps and I did let him use my fancy Carlisle paddle (I took my old Day Tripper).



Debatable whether we needed the nav light but I’d figured on a slightly darker launch. Nav light, rod tips, paddle and yak are all now taped up and it’s probably wise if I’m going to continue my early-morning and evening paddles through the winter.

We got out halfway and then the sun appeared over the fog banks.



I think Liam found the early start worthwhile.



We carried on towards the buoy that marked the channel. Dead reckoning was used most of the way as we couldn’t see it until near the end of the paddle.



I got Liam anchored and he got his first line down – ever – from a yak (and I think generally) and I sorted my own anchor out and baited up. He had a three-hooked Hokkai rig with strips of squid and mackerel on as I figured he’d get more Whiting like that.



A good couple of knots of current were running and as I dropped my lines down…



…Liam called over…he’d caught ;d .



He then decided to try and catapult it back home…



Finally unhooking it into his lap he was amazed at it performing a back flip forward somersault and diving back into the sea ;d Still, first fishing trip - first fish. Can’t be bad. I then carried on drifting slowly before hauling up an anchor warp with no anchor attached…the line had snapped or been cut by underwater pikies. I attached another anchor and repositioned myself. I soon followed suit on the fish, once again using bigger baits and pennels and had this greedy fella come aboard



A while (and lots of rattles) later and I got a ‘knock’, striking into the first codling of the winter…not a big one by any means but at least a sign that there are some about for next week’s kayak fishing meet.



It was starting to look like a promising morning…



…and then the fog started to close in again…



The bites were still coming though and we still had a bit of time before we needed to head back and the sea was flat, the peace was enjoyable and there was no hurry about anything.



Liam decided to rebait for a last cast…anyone for stability questions?



Last casts followed by lastest casts, we reeled in the definitely the last casts and I brought in a new PB Whiting – beautifully marked and worth keeping:



It was time to haul in the anchors and head back in. A boat had come within a couple of hundred yards of us in the fog, head-on, but presumably had heard my little aerosol foghorn and turned off, soon disappearing. Quite what the charters onboard were thinking (they could see us) I dread to think ;d

We headed in. With no battery we had no GPS. With no GPS we had no charts and with no fishfinder I couldn’t estimate position by depth / chart navigation and thus hadn’t brought paper ones. So we turned right and came in by compass…



Liam had the compass (it’s on the Trident) and with the tiny swell on our port beam we headed in. It’s fine following a compass but you have to pay attention – we turned off course while chatting on occasion. It’s also interesting how (especially if you are the one without a compass) you start to doubt the direction. Simple things like the time it takes to paddle back (the tide had turned and so we had maybe half to one knot slowing our progress) and the foghorn, still in the right direction, suddenly becoming a lot quieter than it had been. But we trusted the compass – as you must – and after a while I could make out a faint noise. It took a while to recognise but it was definitely waves hitting the beach. We carried on in. Two boats appeared (then disappeared) out of the fog and with thoughts about paddling up unobserved and asking where we were (for the grin rather than the thirst for knowledge) we headed in their direction – finally spotting land just inshore of them. Charter boats 400 yards out from the beach… we now just needed a location fix and fortunately it was an easy one – CEFAS, Pakefield cliffs and the car park railings. We were a mile south of the launch point but the current would help us back north and it took us no time to get back to the beach and home.