A Hundred not out. Hopton...21/12/08

The forecast looked 50:50 for the weekend which is good enough for me and so I decided that as Saturday would not be possible due to the staff Christmas party but Sunday was the ideal opportunity for me to hit at least one target for the year…I’d intended to hit it last week but wanted to tie in another target if possible and so hadn’t made a second launch. So, at half past five after a really bad night of poor sleep (too much cheese the previous night) my alarm went off and I headed downstairs to get coffee’d and dressed for a six o’clock rendezvous. I had to get out – it was my last chance for the year anyway as I’m away on Tuesday and can’t take my kayak.

I couldn’t wait and so sent Bootster a text to say I’d meet him at the beach and pointed the van northwards. Soon after I pulled up alongside Pinkfoot who was readying his Mini-X by the side of the road before heading down the track and parking (eventually) behind Eastangler, Bootster turning up shortly afterwards. Bootster and I hadn’t been out since about April and so it was good to catch up again for a session. Eastangler was back after his debut a fortnight ago and, well, Pinkfoot and I seem to be down here a lot together – the Suffolk/Norfolk border kayak angling community is starting to grow in number!

Everything loaded I headed down to the beach. It was still dark and we’d be starting out under navlights and head torches with the sun not coming up until we were already fishing. Pinkfoot headed out first and I watched as Eastangler launched before pulling my Prowler 15 into the sea, clambering aboard and paddling through the shore break on my hundredth launch of 2008, waiting at the end of the groyne for Bootster to get afloat.



We paddled out and anchored up about a third of a mile out I’d guess. We were on an ebb tide and it was reasonably strong but not as bad as it has been lately. It was the shortest day of the year too – so I’d scrounged an extension to ‘elevenish’ – in other words I’d aim to be home at midday ;D

I fished a pennel on one rod, with lug and whole squid, put down a (flatfish spoon rig which kept tangling) on another, a three-hook flapper on a third and my current favourite, a wishbone rig, on the fourth. The sea was pretty kind to us today so four rods was easy to manage and I wanted to see which rigs would produce the desired Dabs…

It turned out no rigs were producing anything for me – after a couple of hours I was blanking badly, with only 3 missed bites and a starfish (I think it’s called a Brittlestar) to show for it. And I don’t know where that came from!



However, I kept at it, fishing lug with squid strips on the smaller rigs, using 2/0’s in the hope for flatties. Funnily enough all my bites had come on the same rod and rig – I’d swapped off the flatfish spoon rig for a wishbone with attractor blades between the beads. Thinking about it afterwards I suspect that the flashes were being actively sought as the larger fish are feeding heavily on sprats at the moment. However, when I finally managed to make a capture I decided enough was enough…



Yes, a Whelk. Fairly and squarely caught – it had wrapped its white bits (well I don’t know what they’re called!) around the bait and was trying to eat it. It didn’t put up much of a fight though – they’ve got nothing on a prawn, I tell you. So it seemed to me that I could either catch odd critters like these, pull my anchor and see how Bootster was doing or watch the skeins of geese fly overhead…



I went over to Bootster. He was doing alright – he had a codling while I was there, his fourth…I hung around chatting for a while and he gave me some blacks to try, so I headed off, dropped anchor again and started to fish. I stuck some blacks onto a fresh pennel rig with a squid, cast in, then rebaited the other hooks with fresh lug. It was only a couple of minutes in the new spot before a rod started to go:



A Pouting maybe – but I wasn’t blanking now! It had come to the attractor blade wishbone which had the lug and the whelk on it. Soon afterwards another fish came to this rig too:



Lovely job! On a 2/0 and a small bait taken when the sprats are here in force? The codling are feeding heavily on them at present – they were regurgitating them on the yak, their stomachs were full of them when gutted yet still they were hitting small worm baits – and funnily enough my pennels didn’t get hit once all day.



Next up was another pouting – this time on a three hook flapper on normal lug tipped with squid strip. Then it went quite for a while, until the tide started to ease slightly…and then the attractor wishbone rig went again with a good knock and another codling came in.

I needed one more…I didn’t have long left either…I started to bring rods in and then…bang bang bang! Fish on, and pulling strongly. Same rig and a 12lb class rod. Here it came…up and in!



It had again taken the lug/whelk snood. Well, I was made up and decided to take a photograph of target two – my five hundredth fish of 2008:



Rods in, anchor up and I paddled in. The wind had really picked up since launch and it was fairly hard going. The tide was still ebbing even an hour after high water and I was making about a knot against both. Eastangler and Bootster were meanwhile having a natter…



Eastangler was staying out but Bootster and I went in, him leading in my Trident. Pinkfoot was further south but joined us on the beach shortly after. He was chuffed to bits – he’d got another species for the year and had a few fish to take home too.

We stood around chatting away for a while and then headed up the slope to the transport – there’s no better way in my book to hit your big targets than with friends, and to hit my hundredth launch and five-hundredth fish on what is almost certainly my last session of the year was brilliant.



So, that’s me done until next year and I’d just like to thank, publicly, all those of you who I’ve fished with this year and who have helped, inspired, amused and taught this old dog new tricks. It’s been a cracking year!

Do Your Flies up!...12-14/12/08

Sometimes the weather just falls into place for a fun weekend and looking at my local forecast it looked a belter – big, rough seas on Saturday with smaller swell on Sunday; I could just visualise a Yak Boarding session followed by a Codling bash…

…except I was already intending to be elsewhere, amongst friends, trying a brand new type of kayak fishing – Kayak Fly Fishing!

Kayakflyfisher had arranged for a group of us to meet up on a private Trout lake down in deepest Berkshire, the county of my forefathers (well, on one side) and so on Friday morning I found myself driving south far too early in anticipation of a weekend every bit as enjoyable as the one I would have had at home – but with more time on the water should I want it. I was loaded up with kayaks, paddles, fishfinders and assorted stuff as well as food, bedding and clothes. Three and a half hours later I turned down a muddy track, hopped out and wandered over to a hut where KFF, Darnsarf and Litl666 were already hitting the cuppas pretty hard, and it was not long before one was thrust into my hand. A quick fly casting lesson followed and I judged myself incompetent but able to hit the water from a kayak without missing.

People continued to drift in over the course of the afternoon and evening, usually proceeded by a phone call along the lines of:

“Dave, I’m at such and such a place, how do I get to your place?”

“No good asking me mate, I live in Southampton.”

Despite that, they all managed to make it here eventually and with dinner out of the way it was down to the serious business of opening the wine.

And Beer.

And Tequila.

And Brandy.

And Single Malt.

I must confess that not a single drop passed my lips. Honest! I kept it all down. Not long before three in the morning I decided to slur it a day and rolled out to my van where my sleeping bag awaited me.

I awoke four hours later to the sound of my alarm going off on the wrong day. I chose to ignore it in the hope it would go away. Ten minutes later it went off again. On the fifth round of attempting to wake me up I decided that I had to find it and switch it off, whereupon I went back to sleep to the soothing sound of gently drumming rain hammering down on the roof. Another hour or more passed before I crawled out and slithered up the now-muddy path to the lodge where a cuppa awaited and Cambornecaperpilot was getting ready to cook up a welcome breakfast. With that inside me I felt a million dollars. Sadly, the current exchange rate puts that at about three quid so I dragged myself into my drysuit, slung my Yak Board in the lake and paddled out to where I hoped the hungry Trout were. After blanking for a while I wandered about a bit to see how the others were doing:











About as well as me then!

I chose to take a Yak Board for a few reasons – firstly, my Trident and Prowler 15 are both overly large for the venue – an eight acre lake – and also have enough obstructions on them for the flies to hang up on. It appears from photographs that it was sitting somewhat low in the water at times but it was just right for the job – I could move all around the boat and fished facing from all sides of it at one point or another.

A burst of excitement – Sharkhunter had tempted a rainbow with a green Damselfly…the first fish out of the lake to us hardy paddlers, and a nice size too as it went to 2lb 5oz when weighed later.



I carried on fishing and although I had a swirl behind my hook before this, nothing else came along all day and so after my hands decided to rebel I went in for a coffee and a break before venturing back out again.

I spent the rest of the afternoon variously beating replica flies to death, paddling about, drifting and casting or watching Trout come to the surface and waggled their fins at me in the way a small child waggles fingers attached to the sides of their heads or the ends of their noses. Anyone would think that they were blind or wanted to live forever. Eventually I decided that enough was enough and I hauled myself out of the water and went to warm up, get out of my drysuit and prepare for an evening of banter, eating and drinking. This involved a hilarious tour of Berkshire in search for a Tesco three miles away and the hilarity of a foghorn deciding to go off in the back of the van ;D

A good barbecue followed…


…and I partook only of a single beer and half a glass of wine whilst downing plenty of Cokes as I’d have to drive home on Sunday. It appeared that Sharkhunter was set to win best fish, best bag, best team prizes all to himself! Not only that, he’d brought his camper with him and was the only one that could have a shower so, we carried on drinking and the banter at times got out of hand and had us in hysterics; a sample of our merrymaking provided below for those with broad minds…



It was an earlier night this time – people wanted to get out on the water earlier as it was close – only one fish separated the leader from the pack. Granted, it was the only one but it promised to be a more pleasant day on Sunday – did I mention that the rain only stopped on Saturday when the sky ran out of water during the night?

Up a bit earlier after a bloody cold night in the van (drysuit had fallen onto my sleeping bag whilst driving to Tesco) I went in and cooked breakfast for whoever wanted – a big pile of dead pieces of meat with toast was duly consumed and I watched as the others launched, including Santa n his way to invade the Island:



I stood and nattered to everyone, watched as Todaymueller caught a rival fish, loaded up my van and welcomed Starvinmarvin along.



He’s finally found a Kayak his size…



Around lunchtime I decided to head for home, three and a half hours away, so that I could see my daughters for a while before bedtime and get an early night myself. So with a final thank you to kayakflyfisher for organising a cracking weekend of banter, yakking, fishing and hilarity I climbed into the van and headed northeast. I’d watched the others go out that morning but had stayed ashore myself - I had discovered on Saturday that Fly Fishing is not for me, being far too refined and gentlemanly for a fishing thug such as myself, also I didn’t want to clamber into a cold drysuit and I wanted to avoid a definite blank on my hundredth launch of the year…my next one.

Chilling out...06-07/12/08

The original predictions early in the week were for huge great swells that I could go and surf my Yak Board on and so I was quite excited through the week while out on the road and formulated a plan to go in the river for a freshwater session on the Saturday and play in the waves on Sunday. With my parents wanting to take the children over the weekend as well it meant that for once I could have a lie in and still have a decent session.

Back home late on Thursday it became clear that the promised big waves weren’t coming and so I changed my mind and decided on a sea fishing session on the Sunday but nothing too special – just using up the bait in the freezer. With Pinkfoot phoning up planning on a launch too it was agreed that we’d go to Hopton…and invite Eastangler along too for the first session on his Elite.

I’m jumping ahead. I left the house around 11 on Saturday and headed out to Beccles, stopping on the way to buy some maggots to mix with my breadcrumb and use as hookbait. Launching down by the pool I trolled a pair of Super Shad raps up to the bridge with no luck before tying up alongside the bay I usually catch Chub from.



The water was running quite fast and it soon became clear that a float was just a waste of time. Changing over the float rod I then began fishing a pair of rods with feeders on, the line kept taut by the flow. After a while with no bites I figured that it was pointless continuing so I would be better advised to head off to the mouth of the boat yard and fish the corner where Roach, Bream, Dace and Gudgeon often shoal in winter.



It was slow! I was here a lot last winter and had some hectic fishing sessions but this was nothing like it. Clearly the fish hadn’t moved up in numbers yet and I was just faced with the residents…eventually one of them took the bait…and came off the hook while I was bringing it aboard. A nice winter Roach in great condition and of a decent stamp. I cast again and sat back to wait…

…the tip rattled and I was in again…



Another like the first and I rigged it with a circle hook and a float and cast it out for pike. I carried on for a while and pulled out a couple more similar Roach and at one time watched my pike float moving around erratically, going under briefly once or twice. Reeling in at one point I noted that one flank had been scaled from the anal fin forward to the head but alas the pike had either been small or not too hungry and it hadn’t grabbed hold properly. I moved.


I tried again, hoping to pick up a pike along the wall and cast the maggot baits further down into a hole that sometimes produces Roach, Perch and Dace. Still nothing was happening and so I trolled back towards my launch point before tying up for a last hour near a reedy bend facing the town and waited.



Chilling? My toes were like ice and with darkness falling I headed back to the car and home. Not much in the way of fish to show for my time on the water but on such a crisp day it was a pleasure to be out.

Come Sunday morning I was raring to go…my alarm went off at 6 and I got straight up and headed downstairs for coffee. There was no rush – we’d planned on meeting around 7am and taking things easy. Leaving the house I scraped some ice off the windscreen and headed for Hopton, driving down Beach Road and getting my kit sorted out earlier than planned. I’d left my tackle bag at home but with the bait from last week frozen onto rigs and a bunch of leads sitting in one of the bags in the van I was okay to go as I was. Pinkfoot soon turned up followed by Eastangler and once we were all set we headed down to the waters edge.



It was bloody cold. When it came to putting the C-Tug in the front hatch I couldn’t undo the buckles at first – they were frozen solid. The straps had to be forcibly peeled from the plastic too and there were maggots frozen to the hull all over the place.



But it was a lovely morning…



Eastangler’s first launch was going to be easy. There was little in the way of wave action, just some breaking stuff at the shoreline which shelves quite steeply. Of course by the time he went into the water a set was coming in that was slightly larger and slightly more powerful than the rest and he had to put up with it breaking over the bow. This was a good thing and another good thing was that I followed after it had passed!



We paddled out, not too far but in thirty feet of water and towards the rising sun. The current was far kinder than on previous visits, it being neaps this week.



After Eastangler’s anchor was down and set and he was comfortable I dropped mine and started to fish. Bites were not forthcoming and I began to wonder if my idea of re-using my whopping great cod bait from last week and frozen blow lug was a good idea. Then I got a bite on the cod rod (I had a two hook flapper and a wishbone on the other rods). I missed it of course. Then another came a while later. Then finally, the wishbone rig rattled away and the first fish came aboard – a Whiting that was popped back in, being easily unhooked.



The apprentice was doing alright too – not catching yet but he was happily fishing away. To be fair he only had some squid and mackerel out of my freezer as it was a last minute thing this time – I expect him to outfish me next time as Pinkfoot always does.



It was a glorious morning and as usual we provided the entertainment for the locals who are clearly impressed with our antics and frequently attempt communication through use of hand signals.



Then Eastangler had a Whiting on, he called over – his first yak fish – and as I watched the little bugger escaped! Ah well, at least he didn’t blank and it took me months to get my first fish from the sea. Soon after…Oh my… the cod bait had a good couple of pulls…I tightened down on the fish and pulled up an optimistic Pout.



I was happy enough, that was another fish and the second species of the day. It was also cleanly hooked and after a quick snap it went off to pick on some food its own size.



It wasn’t long after that when I got a thumping great bite on my wishbone rig and the rod arched over…I was using a lead with no grip wires on and so this was a new experience for me. I tightened down onto it and in the flow with its mouth open I had a nice time bringing it up to the surface…a nice size of fish this…



A Codling. I was hoping for, but not expecting, one of these. The local angling forums have been full of people bemoaning the lack of cod now that the sprat shoals have moved in and so it was a bonus to me. Going around 3.5-4lb I took a quick photograph and popped it back in the water to rejoin its friends.



Yeah, right. Actually I knocked it on the head and popped it in the fridge for the following evening. A good choice too as it turned out rather delicious.

I was to get one more Whiting in the next half an hour before packing up and then with our anchors lifted we wandered over to see Pinkfoot who was staying out a bit longer. As usual he was well ahead with six codling (2 deep-hooked fish kept) but was a bit fed up at losing a dab the size of a dinner plate. Well, who wouldn’t be? We said our goodbyes and headed in through the slight surf, up the slope and off home. My target was actually a new species and nine more fish but there’s always next time…and hopefully you’ll be joining us again Eastangler!