“When you get up, look out of your window and if the trees aren’t moving, get dressed and we’ll go fishing”. That was what I said before I went to bed yesterday evening before my shift.
I was home just after eight and clearly the trees hadn’t moved as, tucking into croissants was an underfleeced Whippersnapper. This was good as the sun was up, the sky was clear and the wind was almost non-existent. I checked the tides and the forecast for the rest of the day and we had to move…having not yet refitted anchor trolleys to my Scupper it was a morning destined for trolling even though the small tide was ideal for us to sit for ray and smut at anchor. With the bass likely to disappear soon and not many days for lure fishing left though this was a perfect example of things coming good; Eloise had yet to have a bass either and it had been on the list all year. Sadly things have conspired against us and she’d not been fishing since Swanage back in May so we crossed everything and headed for Yarmouth. We pulled in just up the road from a near-empty warehouse and unloaded. A quick haul and both yaks were at the water’s edge.
To describe the Whippersnapper launch as unorthodox would be to understate it but what is fishing with dad if not fun? (Button it Si!).
We paddled south with the first flowing of the flood tide. The water was clear. Med clear. Twelve feet of visibility minimum, by far the clearest I have EVER seen on this part of the coast; I really could have believed I was in Spain, the temperature, the light and the gin-clear sea all being so reminiscent of my own beginnings fishing in Ampuriabrava as a nipper. The paddle was easy and with a lure trailing from her Fladen IM7 12lb class boat rod and Warbird reel I was really hopeful – surely any bass around would spot our lures a mile off! I had the thin spinning rods and Coriolis reels out but had forgotten my lures so had nicked my daughters. Payback!
I got close to the outfall and flicked out a Fladen wedge a few times to no avail. I trolled past; nothing. The pair of us went around the outfall, up and down and Eloise thought she had a take but apart from a pull and a splash there was no sign. I’d not felt so much as a twitch. We carried on for a while and then headed for the outer harbour to run up the wall for a bit.
We had no joy here either but there were plenty of fry on the surface as there were near the first mark. Perhaps feathers or tinsels might have been wise but it was too late now. I was topless but Eloise was decidedly warm so we beached and off came the drysuit and underfleece; I’d already got her to take off the hoodie and shirt she’d had on when we were getting suited! Now, in knickers and pfd, she was ready for a bit of effort again and we paddled, against the tide, back to the mark and started making our way around the two structures in a large figure of eight.
The water had still not coloured up so things were getting more promising as some turbulence was created. Cast wedges were not doing the business and nor were the divers and we continued just pulling lures about, up and down and around when suddenly I felt the floating, jointed lure that Spark had given me a while back get hit by something. I grabbed the rod and pulled tight; this was a decent fish! It was a five plus for sure, judging by previous fish on this rod and reel, and I called my apprentice over to do the honours. As she pulled alongside and I prepared to pass the rod disaster struck and I dipped the rod. It went slack and then it went weightless. Damn it! I’d not even seen it, just felt it for a minute or two and now it was gone and we’d have to carry on.
We pulled around a while longer and I had one huge take that didn’t connect. Then, with the tide becoming a chore, I told Whippersnapper to head back to the launch point as I followed up behind. Not a bit of it! She beached, stripped off her PFD and went back in the water for a swim! I soon caught up and after taking a few snaps of her doing her usual coaxed her back onto her yak after a spot of tandem fishing.
Hearing her call and turning around I watched her go through alternative launch number two…
She paddled that way for a bit before I told her we had to move as the chickens would be nearly ready for lunch by now and we had swimming this afternoon and so, back on the Costa del Grotty Yarmouth.
She had time for one more quick dip while I dragged the boats to the tarmac and fitted the tugs in place before we pulled them to the van and loaded up, fishless.
Just around the corner I slowed to see if Andy was around and sure enough he was, shirt off and playing with his new yacht. More rainseeker than gin palace he ambled over and invited little one for a quick glass of squash and we had a natter for a few minutes before jumping back in and heading home. That’s two daughters I’ve failed to put onto fish now. Best we hit the river together soon. After I clear the garden of bugs of course.
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