With neither of us having anything better to do this week it seemed like a good idea to go fishing and so Pinkfoot (Carl) suggested giving Dogger a whirl, having never fished it before. Having failed to do anything worthwhile at either Pakefield of Hopton this week I was willing to have a crack there too and so it was that the two of us rolled up just after 9am for a daytime session.
Half an hour later and we’d got past the shore dump and began paddling out to the mark. Pointing the nose uptide I managed to hit the northerly hole where I dropped my anchor with the intention of ending up between that and the middle hole. I timed it beautifully and was in the perfect position, right where I wanted to be...
...for all of a minute as I continued to drift south at 2mph. I decided to wait for the anchor to grab and continued through the southern hole and on...and on...and on...Pinkfoot managed to get his anchor to hold after untangling it initially but mine wouldn’t catch so I hauled it up. The bloody cable tie had given way. I replaced it then paddled back the 500 yards to Pinkfoot and past him (this took 20 minutes) before trying again...this time my anchor warp got tangled, the locking collar came loose and the tines didn’t lock and I drifted south again at the same speed. Bugger.
I decided to paddle into shore and skirt the coastline back to the beach where I could grab my spare anchor set-up and a 2.5kg instead of the 1.5kg with chain. I paddled in at 45 degrees to the coastline and went in straight, making no headway at all uptide. By the time I’d made it into the groynes and started to head back north I was starting to feel some muscle burn and some sweat! A good work out even if it wasn’t intentional. Now here was another problem – loads of people fishing on the beach where I wanted to land so I had to land before I reached them...however, this beach consists of lots of broken concrete sea defences which the waves were hitting with a hell of a smack as each set came through – I’d need to pick my spot and watch the sea...
...I found a spot. I had around 6-8 feet to aim at but could see there was still something submerged there, just deeper and smaller than the other broken lumps ;D I kept an eye out and came in nice and slow, searching in case I needed to abort and reverse back out. Luckily nothing was cresting until it got right in to the beach, where it would rear up quite dramatically. I chose my break and went in, riding in on the top and back of a wave...brilliant! A glance behind saw the next one coming in so I hopped out...
...onto soft shingle that gave way underfoot and put me on my arse in the water as the wave came over. I pushed the yak in with it then tried to stand, went on my arse again and had the yak swing towards me. This was getting farcical! I pushed it in further, got up and walked out, dragging the yak up the beach. This is why paddle leashes should be removed when launching and beaching as it could have easily tangled me when I jumped out.
I wandered back to the van and swapped anchors. The metal of the anchor on my hands was pretty damned cold – there were frozen puddles in the car park – and by the time I was back at the yak I’d had enough of carrying it! Now I just had to get back out again...nicely done as I got another gap between sets. Past the groynes and setting out I noticed that Carl was on his way back in so I dropped anchor and sat 100 yard offshore in 28ft of water. No anchor trouble this time! I slung down a bait knowing he’d be a while and sat and waited.
As he got close I reeled in...first snag of the year and first in months (since Guernsey I think) where I lost tackle, having to cut the rig off. Bugger. I figured that may be why the anchor had held too, but no it came free and in we went.
I went in first, the next bit of beach north which looked clearer than that I’d used last time. The swell was rolling in to a decent dump here so again care was needed but at least it wasn’t as critical as to where we landed. I made it in nice and easy, dragged the yak up the beach and got ready to film Carl who was busy getting things tied down...then in he came... as smooth as you like, a quick turn to the camera on the beach and he was in. Then it was time to natter before he got befriended by a huge great wolf! Well, fishing was impossible as it turned out – the 4mph current equated to 4mph red weed in large quantities and double breakaways weren’t holding bottom. Baits were washed out in no time...so that’s it for Dogger. Two aborts in a row and it’s rare that I can stay a whole tide there. Back to Hopton!
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