I’d no intention of going all the way to Cley again to fish, not after an overnight blank a week ago. It’s an hour and a half away after all but things change and with Rich, the warehouse manager at Johnson Outdoors, getting married 10 miles away and me doing the photography I figured I had two choices – get pissed at the wedding and crash in a field or take my gear with, get pissed at the seaside and crash on the beach. There was no real decision to be made and so I spread the word for a bit of company.
Hottest day of the year; I melted doing the pictures, 650-odd. I stayed on the soft drinks and filled up on the barbecue and come five I was ready to head to the coast. Mind you, I had a quick divert first – I was a couple of miles from Matlaske, a former airfield sometime inhabited by 609 (West Riding) Squadron with their Hawker Typhoons. I knew some of the guys who’d been stationed there way back then and decided to have a quick visit as I was in the area. Last time I’d been here was maybe nine years ago and I didn’t recall the signpost with its depiction of a Spitfire nor was the airfield memorial there then. Result!
I guess it was half-past when I pulled into the car park at Beach Road. Space was at a premium but I managed to get in exactly where I wanted to be. Fishing light it was a case of yak, paddle, two spinning rods and a handful of tinsels and hokkais with some leads to chuck on underneath. I only needed dinner after all. Lucky hat of the day – a change – was my orange Ocean Kayak one and this, wetsuit shorts and pfd were all that I needed. I launched and paddled out to Tony who was already fishing a few hundred yards out. In the way.
He’d not had anything. Coupled with some divers on the beach telling me they’d seen no fish I didn’t feel too optimistic now. Interestingly, these divers had got out to the dive marks on a pair of kayaks, a Prowler 13 and an Ultra 4.3. The latter’s Humminbird was playing up so I had a look for him; I suspect the transducer mounting is at fault and suggested he get the boot and mount it in the dedicated scupper hole. Anyway, back to Tony; we had a natter and caught up on the preceding nine months or so since we’d last fished together as we slowly drifted along the coast towards Weybourne.
My rod started to shake; I took it in hand and started to wind. The tip went right over as the mackerel on the end, a lone one but a good size, shot off around the place. Up it came and was put straight onto a livebait rig in the hope of tope or large bass. It lasted all of ten minutes before the hook snagged up on the bottom and the fish got off. Hmm. Best I concentrate on dinner before I start throwing food away! So off we went again…
The bend in the rod this time was even better! Tip in the water this time as up towards the surface came a 42cm bass, hooked just ahead of the dorsal fin. It fought superbly and has the distinctions of being the first fish on my new rod and reel, the first bass I’ve had on feathers and the first bass I’ve had in open water on the drift. All that and a tasty meal to boot. Camera over the side…got some video too.
Must choose a different angle, it looks like whitebait here!
Then Tony was in with a trio of mackerel, the first of his hits. They were few and far between but where I was getting one here, one there he was mostly taking two or three; Hokkais doing the business for him. These were the cheap Lidl ones from the springtime and I decided to use mine in the morning; though I was now using the three that Tony left attached to a pot rope after we’d both drifted into the bloody thing and snagged up at the same time! I soon caught on them and for now though we were both doing alright and a couple of miles from the launch point we decided to head back uptide before it got too strong to paddle against easily; it would be darkening up soon anyway.
Speaking of Uptide, we spotted him on the way back, drifting down towards us. Hey, but it was a splendid evening to be afloat as we paddled towards the setting sun on a smooth, oily sea.
Uptide had also managed a bass and some mackerel and with a few more of the latter coming aboard on the way back we landed with a surplus; just enough to feed ourselves and donate to Dav as it happened, having turned up to welcome us ashore and ensure we had enough wood for the night. He wasn’t fishing but stayed for a beer and then left just as we got down to the business of cooking fresh mackerel over the embers of our fire. Freshly washed too – the bank was steep and I’d had to jump into the sea to pull half of them out of the water on landing!
Enough beer and mackerel were consumed by midnight to encourage a good night’s sleep and with a log on the fire I crawled into my bivvy bag and crashed out next to my Scupper beneath a bright sky filled with stars, some of them shooting through the atmosphere. I dropped off quickly, waking only to move myself further from the heat of the fire and again to demand coffee from the others who got up before me. Okay, so I’d thought to get up just before dawn and hit the wreck at optimum bass time but with one eye cocked towards the skyline I decided that I just couldn’t be arsed.
We launched around 7 with everything loaded into the vehicles and Uptide’s dropped down at Weybourne so we could just concentrate on our drift one-way. While waiting I caught sight of movement amongst the stones, the first toad I’d seen in years:
Straight out to the 30ft mark and I was in, a bass l coming to the hokkais, hooked behind the dorsal this time and going 48cm at a rapid rate of knots in all directions!
Also looks like a sprat.
Then the mackerel started.
I’d lost a set of tinsels and a jig within moments of dropping them already and now out to the 40ft mark, where we’d hit fish straight away. More individuals and a pair or two came and then it went quiet. We carried on with nothing happening for a while before Tony started getting ones and twos and then, with a string of three I paddled back over his spot and both rods bent over; 9 hooks on one rig saw 8 mackerel in the boat while the six on the other rod managed one. Brilliant stuff! Food and bait sorted for a while then.
We carried on heading down again once the fish disappeared from there and headed for the Rosalie, just offshore from our landing point. I was hoping for some summer codling like last year and perhaps a bass or two but as we approached something was spotted. Uptide suggested a post sticking up but this didn’t compute with previous memories…I got close and saw big bubbles of air coming up, trapped inside perhaps? No. Uptide called it; divers.
Bugger. That’d screw the fishing then. We cast around where they weren’t and then Uptide had a hit on his float rod. I took out a mackerel and cut small pieces, baiting my feathers and dropped down into an immediate brace of decent pout which put a lovely bend in the light rod! Down again and another immediately.
This was fun! Then a snag and up came an anemone. Then, next drop, a funny bite and up came a fish I’d really wanted to catch for ages; this was my fish of the weekend, a Long Spined Sea Scorpion; first from the yak and a beautiful creature, brightly coloured and prehistoric in its features. I was well chuffed! The divers, visible below at times, had failed to scare that away at least!
I mean come on, you’d snog it wouldn’t you?
More pout followed rapidly and then we decided to call it a day, paddling the last few hundred yards to the beach and dragging the kayaks up over the brow to the car park. A brilliant weekend away!
Catch? 8 mackerel and a bass in the evening, 14 mackerel, a bass, 13 pout and a Long Spined Sea Scorpion in the morning. Beating the blank of last week considerably!
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