…onto a bed of chopped tarragon, spring onion and sliced lemon, surrounded in sliced orange and drizzled with olive oil, sea salt and cracked pepper before enclosing it in foil. This was baked in the oven, diagonally across due to the size of it, before serving:
…it was quite moreish.
Of course, after a meal like that there’s not a lot else to do except rendezvous with Steve and launch…and so at 7:30pm he knocked on the door while I was struggling into my drysuit. Half an hour later and we were kitted up and were on the sand readying ourselves to launch. I decided to call up the coastguard once we were at our destination a mile south and tell them where we were instead of where we were going.
After all, they’d have probably not wanted us to go out. Visibility was a bit on the poor side ;D
Anchored up, we chatted and waited. Steve had a Whiting on fairly quickly while I didn’t have a touch. Then I started to drift away. All the time I was watching static rod tips…fishing was not going so well tonight. I ended up a couple of hundred metres away, slowly drifting, before I decided to up anchor and head back. I’d felt a fish on once only over the last hour and a half but it had dropepd off. However, as I now brought in one rod I finally found the saviour – I hadn’t blanked!
A Whiting, I’d not even seen it bite. This fish so far had cost me half a dozen good frozen blacks and a lead that had headed further south than the line.
I paddled over to and past Steve, heading up current and slightly inshore. Trouble was, like all good plans, it went belly up and the current took me back the way I’d come, straight over his anchor line and I had to cut free and re-tie. Twice. I also managed somehow to lose a rig, with weight and everything, during this procedure. I settled for being on the offshore side and baited up. A couple of rebaits later and I sent another complete rig flying; it turns out I’ve got a damaged tip ring that has been taking out my braid. Bugger.
Oh my! A bite! Fish on!
Hmm. A small Pouting. Back it went. Steve had a nice codling in his tankwell but I was trailing, badly. I then got one lovely bite…nothing, it came off and left me with a lump of weed. We carried on a little while longer and shortly before heading off Steve brought in a second codling – again a nice fish. We up-anchored around 11:30 and headed back against the tide, landing on the beach and getting things sorted out before going our separate ways around 12:30…Steve at least having got value from his worms!
…besides, I couldn’t really stay out later with work the next day after all…
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