A bit windier this morning…still, can’t have everything. Hopefully the water would still be clear and with an earlier start we might just get a longer crack at things. I met up with Mike around 8:30; like Si the day before it was his first time on this mark and we set off south to see what we could find. Damn, the clarity was way down and things looked tricky. What to do?
We trolled for a while, around the structure and then up the wall but not a sniff in either place. The wind kept pushing me out of position for casting and the drift on the trolled lures was getting annoying. I had three rods this time, two out behind me and one ready for casting as the two rod changeovers between trolled and cast had been a pain the day before.
With the water still murky two hours in I decided to hang slack on the beach and clean the rust off my safety knife with wet sand instead.
Mike came in after a while having stayed out in the hope of tempting one and we sat for a while before deciding to give it another go. Back out we went and good news! The water was a bit clearer. Not great, more Pernod than gin but more likely. I cast a few times with the Abu Toby but nothing. Try the Cebar? I’d often heard about the German Sprat and having decided that I wanted to fish with the classic metal lures this year I fixed it on; nice and heavy, perhaps I’d find the bass deeper? I cast, same place as yesterday and immediately hooked into the structure. Shit.
I pulled and pulled, nothing doing. I paddle done way and pulled again, nope, first cast and it looked as though I might lose the lure. I paddled the other way, pulled and out it came; I would in slowly, jerking and keeping it from the bottom.
Wallop!
Oh this was a good one! I got it closer and with line being peeled from the baitcaster I watched, amazed, as my rod literally hooped over! The rod tip was in the water, the curve greater than any I can recall; I was impressed with this Shimano Scabard and thankful I’d set my drag right. Mike came along and commented that I had a bit of a bend in it! Up came the fish and I lifted it in, smiling for a quick photo; a twin for yesterday, a centimetre or two over the fifty. Down the hatch!
No further hits on the cast and nothing on the troll we gave the harbour wall another go. Again, nothing and so we tried the outfalls again…
“I don’t want to know”, Mike stated as another bass came to the surface. On the MLS, I considered its options and, with bass season just starting to get going for me I decided to be benevolent and let it go. Let the netters take it if they will but I’ll stick with a bigger meal thanks all the same!
I went back to casting, the Cebar, Toby and Dexter all getting a work out and apart from a tip-and-run on the Dexter that didn’t connect to what felt small in the brief second it was there no further sport was had and with the water now colouring up we made the move for home. We’d had maybe an hour of clarity this time, not enough for a major strike but with the wind and the colour I reckon I’d made the best of it.
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