I picked up my wife and children on Wednesday night and got back home around 2am Thursday. I had to take the day off but didn’t even think about launching. I did of course have a look at forecasts etc for the weekend and went to work as normal on Friday morning.
I like Friday, I knock off at half three. It seemed a pleasant day so I decided that I’d not go straight home and so put in at the end of the road for an hour and a half trolling around the outfalls and up the north side of the outer harbour as it looked clear enough that I may find a bass or two. I’ve not fished here yet this year but had a few last summer. Of course everything I needed was in my van already…well, everything except my camera.
No matter, I paddled around, slow, slower, stopped and drifted…cast slow, jerky, fast. Ran up and down the harbour wall. Nothing, not a touch. No real point in the camera then. I gave it long enough to be polite before saying bollocks and heading in, beaching behind a bent-over yummy mummy ;D I tried to fish without a hat too so was lower on luck.
I shouldn’t do that, leave my camera at home. It went straight back in on my return.
Handy really. Saturday I was up at 04:30 to meet Stinkyweim on South Beach at 5. The plan was, with low wind and low water a couple of hours off, to head straight out and slightly south to fish out near the banks off the end of the Claremont. The days are drawing in now.
Still, we headed out and got ourselves in position.
Well I did. Si pissed off north again ;D To be fair he’d lo0st his anchor and warp last week and was using what I could find and it was too short. He brought it up and paddled back again.
I got me a whiting ;D
I had whole squid on one rod for smuts and a size 1 wishbone for everything else. I had loads of taps, knocks, rattles and bait-thefts but that was it. One whiting. I decided to go and try for bass over towards Ness Point.
We got over there and I anchored by way of my rods. It was a tad on the shallow side for the waves that form here.
I waited and fished for a while and then headed out a bit further where I could admire a wider view of this lovely vista.
Not a touch. I’d had enough and was getting bored now so we decided to troll some lures back to the harbour mouth, along the rocks. At times I was hitting bottom with my paddle and got swamped from waves hitting me side on on a good half-dozen occasions. It was fun but pointless. A bit like fishing on the Wii. Anyway, we’d been watching this with interest:
What was he doing?
We look nothing like Felixstowe!
Si had held a long ambition since first getting a yak to paddle under the Bascule Bridge. We were in the area with nothing better to do so went for it. The trouble is either this ship or the harbour itself were blocking my transmissions so we just followed this thing in. Running alongside Si got a bit close and was asked to piss off.
I needed to be further away anyway, it was bloody huge:
We headed for the bridge. The harbour master then told us to piss off. He also said to call them on the radio in future. I informed him I’d called 3 times on Channel 14 from the harbour entrance to no response. Anyway, we had to go through now and wait until the ship was clear as they were coming through. I thought he was kidding. Anyway, I got the shots as Si realised his ambition.
Then I was really impressed:
Mind you, I wasn’t in a car either side of the bridge! We still had to wait though.
Now, I was very good and called the port control up to get permission to exit – I always bloody call them. I called them 6 times. In the end I phoned Yarmouth Coastguard and asked for their number and called them on the phone. Still they banged on about calling them on the radio to get permission etc. The fact I’d tried a total now of 11 times on the correct frequency fell on deaf ears. This is not actually a pun I hasten to add, they would have been listening but I heard no other traffic in or out in all that time either. We paddled out and around to the beach.
Mike, or Mickandles as he is known on here, joined us as we landed. He wanted a lesson in anchoring sop I chucked him in my Scupper. This was delivered firstly on the beach then in the waves at waist depth. Bloody stupid that, I broke the bungee of my trolley on one side then tangled the whole lot up with the anchor warp. Got it sorted then watched him fall in. We had another go and then Si took him out for a couple of goes in progressively deeper water:
A good job well done.
Then I killed my camera at home.
I should count my blessings, I’d managed two launches for the weekend. The thing is we’d planned to go up the river as a family but sadly my youngest had been up during the night feeling unwell. A lightbulb flicked on and we picked a Kea up from my parent’s and rang a friend…would Jonas like to paddle with me and Eloise to our beach from yours? How many times can a just-nine year old say yes in 2 seconds? It’s maybe three quarters of a mile, there was some swell and some chop, an onshore-ish wind and the tide was dying. We made it back home, changed, bolted some food and hightailed it for Pakefield. We had to borrow a paddle as Eloise’s was in the car and had not been transferred to the van.
Down the cliffs we went and then a quick snap before we launched on my wife’s camera, borrowed rarely. This was their first time other than playing in the waves…
Right, head north.
Keep going…
There’s the pier:
Yes, alright then
Go on then, surf in.
Now you
Nicely done! Quarter of an hour and we didn’t hurry ;D
Playtime then.
The younger sisters had a go too and Abigail, almost seven, surfed a wave beautifully, though quite by chance, and went straight back out and tried again. Cracking evening.
It’s bloody 04:30 again. I’ve been up a few times with this cold. Oh well, the boys will be waiting for me. Coffee, bog roll and it’s off to Hopton. I’m behind Si and Mike, they’re both almost set up. I’m groggy and slow. What the hell, it’s beautiful out there, flat, no wind, slight swell and the sun is on the way up. A pity I have no camera.
Out we go. The target is a smut apiece. Can we? Mike is having his first session on the sea. We get him anchored, Si anchors too and then I drop down…three bells all in a row we’re a better line-up than the Beatles. Until Mike’s anchor decides to drag. Not to worry, he hoiks it up, paddles back and re-anchors like a pro. Meanwhile I call up the coastguard for a radio check. Clear and strong on both Yarmouth and Lowestoft relays. All I can think is my battery power was too low for a decent transmission yesterday.
I’m getting bites from the off but nothing is connecting. I want a decent smut on a spinning rod and my 4” Scarborough. Eventually I hook a doggie on the barely touched flapper rig – this had maybe 4 bites all morning. No blank then.
Tons of knocks but no dice. Thinking back I needed smaller hooks and a stiffer rod to set the hooks. Never mind, Si is in with a nice one around 4-5lb minutes after my dog, his first yak smut ;D Nice one. Ten minutes later and Mike pulls up a pup…great, they’ve both had the target fish; this is very satisfying, especially if I can get one too.
The tide slackens and we drift inshore. Bugger this, I up-anchor and head out a few hundred yards. Si follows suit. Mike stays put. I hope he’s getting bites.
I pull into this knock and feel the pull. Fish on, decent too. I bring her up and unclip the lead before it gets pissed off with me. Again about 4-5lb. I get a bit of a scrap but not as much as I expected although my rod is hooped right over at times. In she comes, is unhooked and in desperation I use the phone:
A kiss on the nose and away she goes, following the doggy back down. Spinning rod, Scarborough, smut. Target achieved. Main target also achieved – all of us have had smuts.
I get one more doggy before it’s time to head in – I have to make a picnic and then head to a theme park for the day. Back on the beach Mike tells us he’s had smut pups, whiting, doggies and a codling…he’s outfished both of us, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s something to do with Tangleweed’s scent as it’s his old yak? Though a nice excuse he’s probably the better fisherman! What a christening though eh?
I had to make a move. Eloise had a date with the Wipeout. Four years she’s waited for those last few centimetres. This is the Wipeout:
120 feet tall, reaching speeds 47mph and pulling over 5-G's it features three inversions. You get winched to the top of the hill, hurtle down through a cobra roll and loop. Then after it reaches the top of the second hill (full view to 4 miles out over my paddling grounds) you do it all again backwards.
Now, it’s terrible to be disappointed after a long wait and with concerns that she’d be terrified / upset / covered in vomit I told her she’d have to wait until it ended as they couldn’t stop and it was okay to not like it etc. Nine years old last week, like father like daughter; she loved it. Three times we rode that one. That was quite enough for me, thanks and by the end of the day there I couldn’t face launching at the Swan for some bass in the clear, calm waters where low water and darkness were aligning nicely. What the hell, there’s always another day…
