Second Eastern Meet...17-20/10/08

When it gets to this time of year my home surf n’ turf becomes more interesting to those from sunnier climes whose warm-water species are on the way out while the cod are on the way in over here. There’s something attractive about cod - it’s the prized catch from the beach or from the boat at this time of year as it’s perhaps the quintessential eating fish for English style cuisine – if fish covered in stodge and deep fried can be called cuisine! So what else can one do apart from offer up a weekend in my hometown to chase these and the pike on the Broad that borders the lodgings? Well, invite people to kip outside for one…



…and excite them with the promise of coffee and bacon sarnies…



…I’m so glad I can get eight chairs around my table because the three packs of bacon, four packs of rolls, five packs of tea cakes and endless pots of tea and cups of coffee would have had nowhere to rest in the seconds before they were eaten. Oh well, at least I had been warm all night.

Fridge emptied and kettle drained it was time to head for the beach and while most elected to drive over to the seafront car park I trolleyed my Trident 15 down to the beach accompanied by my wife Florence and youngest daughter Abigail who both wanted to see us launch. Not all of us would be – new forum member Ben was on a skive to watch us go out before joining us the following day:



Once down on the beach, finally, it was time for the last minute tinkering that precedes launch and the final touches were put to set-ups, clothing and rigs while bait was handed out and conversations were finished off.



A good crowd was gathering behind us on the promenade. There’s not much going on in Lowestoft in October and with such nice weather people had come out for a stroll. It must have looked really intriguing and somewhat exciting to see such a large group of kitted up and ruggedly handsome (and Helen) kayak anglers preparing to launch and as there were eleven of us about ready to go it was the ideal time for a photograph.



And so we launched. I’d chosen a different launch point to normal as it would be more fun with such a flat sea if we took the entry that usually has the best surf in that section and on this occasion had a little bit of small stuff. I was to regret this as I took - for the first time ever when not in a small surfing yak - a wave full in the face. It was rather refreshing I must admit but the salt and sand that stayed on my neck were to cause problems later as they rubbed and chafed at the line where the un-cut latex neck seal of my new Typhoon drysuit met my skin. I am reliably informed, however, that it looked good from the beach!

So did the fleet as it paddled out to the horizon. And Gormo when he headed back in for his sunglasses!



We headed out and half of us went north towards the South West Holm buoy where there were some dips into deeper water while the rest went south towards the South Holm. Not a massive distance apart but it was to prove the undoing of some later on when the tide turned – I have to hold my hands up at this point and admit to cocking up. On the way out we seemed to drift north when stopping and I thought we were on the ebb – but it was the wind and we were on the flood but at a slow state of the tide. A silly mistake to make and, frankly, unforgivable. But what the hell – it was a beautiful day for it…



…and so it was time to get down to some fishing. We dropped our anchors in a clump and I watched everyone drift out of sight – one minute I figured we’d be tangling everyone constantly and then no-one was in sight! The current at depth was pretty strong by now and it was taking a lot of line before the leads hit the bottom.



I had two rods down with cod baits – whole squid, one stuffed with Dungeness Black Lug – and another pair with baited feathers with either squid strips or pieces of lug. Soon I had a knock…



The first fish of the meet I think – a Pout. A lot lighter and shinier than the south coast Pout and without the dark bars – it still went back though. They had clearly followed Starvinmarvin north.

I was quite comfortable there and on hearing that Starvin had just banged out three Cod I was tempted to make a move but figured I’d stay a while longer. I was sitting back, relaxing in the sun and noticing – but not listening to – the chatter on the VHF. Then for some reason I decided to look over my shoulder…the word that sprang to mind began with a very large, bold, underlined capital F as I spotted, less than a quarter of a mile away and heading directly for me at a good rate of knots, this:

[URL=http://s24.photobucket.com/albums/c24/609photos/2008%20Kayak%20Angling/?action=view¤t=PA175120.mp4][IMG]http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c24/609photos/2008%20Kayak%20Angling/th_PA175120.jpg[/IMG][/URL]

I immediately transmitted ‘All Kayaks, All Kayaks, Look North, Look North!’ and began frantically bringing in four lines before hauling anchor and heading off – but fortunately it started to veer off and I didn’t need to as I watched it pass a couple of hundred yards (at most) to the east of me – on a direct course for a twenty-knot Lozz! Big bastard wasn’t it!



The ship details:

'Clonlee'. Single Hull 100 Container Ship. Keel Laid
1995 Jan 17. Gross Tonnage 3999 Tons. Speed 15.5 Knots. Breadth 18.50 Metres. Depth 8.25 Metres. Draught 6.55 Metres. Length 101 Metres. Net Tonnage 2.176 Tons.

A pity they went and put a shipping channel right in the deep water they’d dredged out. Well, two can play at that game and I hauled anchor and set course for the South Holm Cod. I soon got there and the talk was of good fishing – I was really, really pleased to hear that Darnsarf had caught a Cod on the flat – that is some doing! His first ever cod too. Very well deserved. He nearly got squished as well as it happened!



I dropped anchor. Richi was near the buoy itself and although it looks like we’re just offshore from the compressed perspective of the telephoto end of my zoom we were a good mile and a half offshore.



It was pleasant here and I got regular bites which sadly resulted in misses almost all the time. One lift however had a double shot – a 5 inch Dogfish on one hook and a slightly larger Whiting on the other. Sadly they dropped off on the surface – I would have loved to have got a good look at the Doggie - a beautiful species.



And then one good bite that was missed was followed by another on a whole squid…and the fight was on! A shark was battling its way around the kayak testing the 50lb Powerpro braid to the limit…the rod was threatening to give out and the hooks were close to bending…but finally, exhausted, I brought it alongside and managed to unhook it before risking life and limb to bring it onboard for a photograph…thrashing around and trying to attack me



A beautiful Starry Smoothound perfect in every detail…



Here’s looking at you kid…



It swam off and as the yaks started to swing around more – slack tide was starting to be replaced with some current – the bites started to come more often and then, with a quick strike following a rattle I connected with my first landed Whiting of the day:



Soon after as the current began to pick up properly I got the knock I’d been waiting for all day and the heavy pull of a big mouth coming up the current from over thirty feet of water brought the perfect end to the day’s fishing and I swung my PB Cod – a good four-pounder



The drag that this puts onto a kayak is easily overlooked but suffice to say I was now a couple of hundred yards north of my previous anchoring point – it wasn’t the fish itself but it was enough in that current to pull my anchor free and it wouldn’t settle again on its own. Others were starting to break free and we made the decision to head back for the beach. And that’s where the fun started…

The current was really pushing through now, from south to north, and heading straight in resulted in crabbing sideways. I aimed a good few degrees south and seemed to keep on track but between incoming VHF and mobile calls I kept drifting further north. Some bright orange hats were visible a good way away near the rocks north of the harbour and a few yaks could be seen struggling up through the rip there as we headed in... we came to some chop that had a few bits of broken surf in it – but it’s hard to pick up surf when you’re going sideways and backwards while paddling forwards…I took a call then, it turned out to be Essexbuoy asking how we were getting on “We’re coming in against the current, call me later”…I saw a kayak head into the harbour (Todaymueller) which I have done in the past myself. I took a call from him and by then it was pointless heading straight in and so I joined up with Gormo, John and Helen and paddled with them. We were making half a mile an hour tops for loads of effort – it was easily four and a half knots here. I also noticed a kayak a good few hundred metres behind the others - Adam was paddling fine but making no headway and I couldn’t leave one person out of sight if I got around the harbour mouth so I dropped anchor to wait for him. He was catching up well – or rather I was - with fifty metres of warp and 1.5kg of anchor behind me I was heading north at over three knots. I pulled it up, joined him, turned and saw the other three no further ahead than when I’d dropped anchor. I called them back on the VHF and we turned north to look for a place to beach. All we had were broken concrete sea defences with gaps of a couple of feet at most. In the end it took us until we were a good couple of miles north of the harbour before we could get ashore. John and Adam went first, followed by Gormo…



Then I went in. There was a fifteen-twenty foot gap to aim for, thankfully no surf but as I got in I saw that most of it was only just submerged…I had six feet of space to pass through…I was in and with the yak out of the way I grabbed the camera to get Helen’s landing…



Brilliant. All safely ashore. Now just a quick call to the others and we could get a lift back to the vehicles to collect the yaks.

No answer. Nobody had a mobile near them. I went up above the sea wall – VHF was blocked by the Birds Eye factory. My wife was out and not answering. We brought the gear and kayaks up to the sea wall and then I thought to call a mate whose PC I’d sorted out a few days before. Dragging him from his pre-shower ablutions (well it was an emergency!!) I persuaded him that even though he had to be elsewhere very soon he needed to give me a lift. And come Jamie did – receiving my PB Cod as a thank you.

Coming back as quick as we could we got caught out as the bridge went up…and then the phone calls started:

“Snapper, how do I get to the bloody lodge?”

“Snapper, how do I get past the diversions?”

Ah well, they made it in the end and I joined them all there later for drinks, dinner and an evening of banter before Day Two…

Saturday dawned and I saw it again! Downstairs to put the coffee on and await Ben’s arrival dressed in my Typhoon fleece and desert boots which was calculated to put him off wanting breakfast. I relented and put some jeans on as well at the last minute. On his arrival we headed over to the holiday village to drop off a yak and pick another up on the way back – thwarted as my mate was still asleep. Getting back to my road Richard from work had arrived and was wandering why he had driven the big van down the small road – never mind, he could get it out later but grab a coffee and a teacake now. Job done we loaded the gear onto the two available yaks, rigged an anchor trolley on one and while they headed down to the beach I went and got the other one from my mate’s house.

We were late launching – the worms didn’t turn up. I kept wondering where they were and ringing the number I had but they were well on their way to Norwich and I was ringing the wrong man! The reason I hadn’t got them at 8 was that the calls had not come through to my mobile for some reason – we were reduced to squid and some frozen black lug. Not an auspicious start!

We assembled on the beach and when the seven of us were ready we paddled out. Richi, Fat Simon, Overrun and Carpyken continued heading out for the East Barnard Buoy a couple of miles out from Kessingland while Ben, Richard from work and myself stopped and hit a mark I fish when it’s a bit too rough to go offshore. Almost directly off the CEFAS building about half a mile out I got the other two to drop anchor and then set about sorting myself out.



Here I hit a snag – I have a bunch of 1.5kg anchors but had lent them all out – I was now reliant on two pieces of chain, some carabiners, and, luckily, some 0.75kg ones which are not something I usually have to hand. The current was running already and I figured that if I attached 3 of them to the chain I might, just might, be able to hold reasonably on the sandy bottom. Down it went and I was stuck fast – it didn’t budge all day.

Two rods down with whole squid and black lug on a pennel and running boom then I baited up a feather rig with black lug, mackerel strip and squid strip and dropped it down. It didn’t take long before I had the first fish of the day – a Pout.



It was pretty windy and while the swell was slight the chop was pretty constant. It wasn’t a concern at all but it didn’t rock me to sleep either…



Then the fun and games started – I had a bite. The line felt funny and then I had a hell of a bend in the rod, a hell of a weight on the line and whatever was on only wanted to come gradually to the surface. I thought I might have a dead body or something but no – it was a Whiting…



…and Bens anchor warp! I unhooked from both and figured I’d better clear the other rods too…three times I wound that bloody anchor line up! Luckily I was able to drop again shortly afterwards as Ben, his grip lost, drifted south towards Kessingland ;D Well, it’s another species!



A few more followed and then a double shot with a difference!



The current was really starting to pull now and with the added noise of the wind I had no possibility of hearing the WAFI sneak up on me – I turned around by chance, blew the foghorn (it was bright and sunny) and from a direct course 150 yards away he altered course, went past, and gave a friendly wave…



I’d have given him a friendly wave on the bloody snout if he’d been much closer!

Ben was still having fun on his first kayak fishing session…



…and Richard, whose first time it was too, was also enjoying himself and was into his first yak caught fish! The first of four Whiting he landed (many more coming off at the surface)



Slack water passed, the current picked up, the fish came back on the bite and then Overrun and Fat Simon paddled over and went past to try for dabs inshore. Carpyken had come in already but we’d not seen him – while Richi was still out at the buoy. Out of worm and with bites slackening as the tide picked up I decided that it was time to come in – especially as Richard kept disappearing downtide and managed to snag me when dropping anchor on his last foray back up to us.

We got in without tipping and then while the others were playing in what surf there was I tried the new drysuit out some more, wading in up to my chest and taking some photographs.



Simon handles his Dorado beautifully and on my instruction came paddling down my side – although I didn’t instruct him to come THAT close!



Ken was also playing about in his Scupper Pro but had taken his sail off by now.



Then, over the horizon, came Richi, paddling in against the wind.



That Scupper Pro has done some miles now! Amazingly he’d blanked for once – but the speed of the tide on his mark didn’t make that much of a surprise.



All safely ashore the usual chatting and breaking down of equipment was carried out…



…and the usual banter and analysis carried out. Bar Richi we’d all caught something – I’d managed 3 Pout and fifteen Whiting which had been fun but nothing of any size.



The kayaks back on the van and in the garden Richard went home while Simon treated Ben, Ken and myself to a pint – they’d all got changed and I just stayed in my drysuit, fortunately remembering to take the knife out of my boot before I got to the pub. Another cracking days fishing, topped off later with Helens birthday celebrations.


Saturday night was party night…



…and the cake was safe to eat…



Come Sunday morning the wind was up and blowing offshore. There didn’t seem much interest in a sea trip so instead I asked my wife and my friend Liam if they wanted a paddle on the Broad. My children were at my parents so it was the ideal opportunity.

Flo took my usual Carlisle paddle on the Prowler 15 while Liam and I used a Cranked Nordkapp and a Cranked Wing (swapping over for the return journey) and took a pair of Sprinters out. The Sprinters take a little while to get used to but once you get the feel for one it’s a great kayak.



We wandered along up the Broad and onto Oulton Dyke saying hello to people as we came across them and then started having a series of run-ins with the WAFI’s who continually came past us before tacking and otherwise frigging about. They had the whole Broad to play with but seemed to delight in annoying kayakers and bank anglers. More on them later.

Rounding the bend we spotted John, Helen and Ken – the former didn’t fancy the pub but ken did and so we headed down the dyke towards the junction where it joins the Waveney – Ken popping his sail up now and again.



It was quite gusty and although it moved him along quite nicely the wind couldn’t be relied on to really work it for getting a speed up.



Now the WAFI’s were really starting to annoy me – for the third or fourth time they were tacking all around us and I decided they could get stuffed – hey diddle diddle, straight up the middle. I picked up a lovely speed and passed one that had gone nose first into the bank. I then decided really I ought to stay and keep an eye on Flo…the fools thanked me for stopping to let them past – I wasn’t waiting for them. Anyway, we carried on and I stayed mid-stream to keep the one that now kept tacking towards us away from my wife – got to protect my family you see. I think the fact that he was now reduced to half a river and couldn’t get past me and that I was doing between 1 and 2 knots was starting to annoy him after at least five minutes. It’s just a pity that the ya-ya brigade don’t learn lessons though and will have to be shown again some day. Hopefully he was as pissed off as every other river user he’d annoyed in the last mile or two.

Arriving at Burgh Staithe we discovered that the pub wasn’t open yet. Not wanting to spend all day there we instead grabbed a drink from the shop and wandered around for a while before getting back onto the kayaks. Flo surprised me now – she’d seen enough photographs of me standing on the kayak paddling and decided to try herself



I was really impressed – she had no problem at all apart from looking silly in my huge dry trousers ;D

Coming back, I had a cruiser come past me and initially trying to ride the bow wave I decided to overtake him. The Wing and the Sprinter was a lovely combination for this and I was flying…I was close to catching him when I spotted Bucketboy and I think Darnsarf so stopped for a chat. Then, when Flo caught up again, we carried on back down to the launch point, Liam already having left as he needed to be home to cook lunch. Lozz, Cambornecaperpilot and Todaymueller were on the way out for a session.



Todaymueller was actually in a good spot but the pike didn’t seem to want to play.



Flo and I paddled in together so she could go off home.



While she went for a cuppa with John and Helen and I launched again, with rods, in the Prowler 15. I wanted a pike but instead bumped into Starvin (who was trying to steal my wing by foul means) Simon and Overrun – the latter two were coming to say goodbye as they were about to head for home.



I paddled up the dyke afterwards and found Adam and Darnsarf anchored up and stopped for a chat. Paul was made up – he’d had a cracking pike, a PB, and was over the moon. After another half an hour and no more action we decided to head in, me trolling behind them. They were both too far ahead to hear me call though…



Love it! Feisty as anything for the time of year!



I’d been waiting for one last pike on this lure - my trusty Mackerel Shakespeare Big S – as I had decided that it was ready for honoured retirement. It certainly went out with a bang as it caught me a memorable fish – only around 5lb in weight but with attitude



That was it for the day and after a post-paddle chat I headed off home to go and see Stiff Little Fingers in Norwich.

Monday morning saw most people already departed. Todaymueller, Cambornecaperpilot, Darnsarf, John and Helen were all that were left and with Darnsarf heading straight home the four of us drove down to Beccles via the tackleshop (for maggots) to try and get some last fish.

En-route Todaymueller stopped due to electrical problems – his battery shorted out and filled his car with smoke – presumably the ends of the wire had come together and it must have been a frightening experience.

The two Johns tried for pike while Helen, Adam and I went after the silver fish. I had a Roach within seconds just before launching. We only had an hour before everyone needed to go and so didn’t go far before tying off and getting down to business.



Fishing was slow. The wind was pretty strong but controlling a float wasn’t too bad as it’s quite sheltered there. John tried chucking lures while Todaymueller trolled around.



The Roach were small but there were a few coming in and they looked clean and healthy.



It was time to go. It had been a cracking weekend and everyone had had a good time with old and new friends, plenty of fishing, some hard slogs against wind and tide and some first class banter - everything, in fact, that a good fishing meet should have. Thank you all for coming, I enjoyed your company…roll on next year and Eastern Meet Three!