It’s been so damned cold and so damned windy this month that the temptation to take the kayak off the roof hasn’t been all that strong. By which I mean almost non-existent! So as I’d seen from his facebook page (you’ve got to love social networking) that Colin was taking Lead Us to sea with only one other angler aboard it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss, especially with decent catches of cod over the previous 3 days and a forecast of fine weather. Besides, the lure of fishing with coffee, dry hands and minimum effort at this time of year is not something to be sniffed at and I had nights off either side of the trip so all was good.
Even better, I was on Colin’s route from fetching lugworms to the dock so I didn’t even have to drive! And so, just before 8:30, Colin turned up and I had my first ride in a proper Land Rover since army days a long time ago and I didn’t have to sit in the back this time! Funnily enough it was the first time we’d met in person, every other time we’d spoken it’d been by phone, radio, internet or on the sea!
We pulled up near the moorings on Lake Lothing in an area I’d only been to by water and the boat got loaded and started up. Doug turned up soon after and we backed out into the water for the cruise up to the harbour mouth.
It’s a nice boat trip in itself with plenty to see from the Excelsior, the wreck of the Yellowtail, a Lightship and a landing craft amongst others, not to mention the old shipyards and Asda…but the tide was higher than predicted so we had to hope we’d get under the bridge. I took my hat off and ducked!
The sun was shining, the sea looked pretty flat and a helicopter was just taking off as we went through the pier heads and headed north to fish Colin’s usual spot off Corton. Past the rocks that hold the bass in summer, past the broken concrete on the south denes, past the car park where the dogging occurs, past the beach anglers at Tramps Alley, all places I’m familiar with on the kayak but passing by quicker and with no effort on my part! It had taken me an hour the last time I’d paddled all this way a few weeks previously on the day the world didn’t end and as we steamed north Dough and I busied ourselves with rods and reels and traces and beads and hooks and all the other toys that grown men play with, interspersed with plenty of filming of the trip on my compact.
We arrived at the mark and Colin dropped down the anchor; he’s got a bigger one than me! It would have sunk my stern if placed in the tankwell on its own without the good few metres of chain. No dragging for us today. Down came the gantry, the anchor ball was attached and the whole lot hoisted again and then it was time to get busy. Out came the worm – good ones too, from the new place on the High Street, and with a worm or two on a 4/0 tipped with a ring of squid the baits went over the side. Large baits weren’t the order of the day as the bites had been finicky of late and larger baits, though attracting the fish, were causing them to drop off mid-water. I ignore good advice at my peril and being at peril on the sea is not my intention.
I started off with a spreader wishbone. I only fished the one rod and this was the first outing for my new setup. A Fladen Maxximus IM7 12lb boat rod allied with a Fladen Warbird 3700R loaded with 30lb braid and a 20lb fluorocarbon leader, both Fladen, looks a good, balanced bit of tackle but how would it perform? Probably better if I hadn’t left the clicker on to cast, had released the spool properly and adjust the spool to freeline faster. Shit. Still, I hadn’t overrun so I pretended nothing had happened, set it all up properly and flicked the 9oz weight over the side and let it run downtide. With a couple of hours left of the flood everything ran out nicely and I re-engaged the spool and set the rod against the holder.
Doug was in first and hauled in a nice, plump whiting. Full of roe they are and in good health, certainly better whiting than I’d seen over the last few weeks. Colin was next:
I was last to get one though but come it did and this first taste of my new reel was good. The big power handle was a delight, good grip and rotating smoothly as I turned the handle. The spool turned like silk too and it all felt nice and light on the way up against the flow. Now, I don’t know if it was the difference in rod or the thinner braid than normal or whether it was because I was standing instead of sitting or because the reel is of different gearing or has better bearings or what but there certainly seemed to be half the effort required than I’ve been used to with my old gear. Frankly it was delightful but the jury can’t really be said to be in the room until I’m sat in my usual space, 6 inches from the water astride my yak! No, so far so good…oh, I forgot. Where I’d cut my line earlier to stick the rod in the landy and wound it onto the reel the thin flouro had gone under the side of the spool and I’d had to cut off the damaged length. Something to watch for in future but a result of my laziness.
Well, a steady stream of whiting came aboard and my first cod bite dropped off mid-way up. Another cod dropped off as well and then the boat started to turn in the wind that was starting to build. I snagged up once, gave slack and then lifted it out and put my rod to one side and had a cuppa while waiting for the flow to reverse. No cod boated on the flood, hopefully on the ebb…White Cheetah was just offshore of us and they were in the same position.
I’ve always thought Lead Us was a nice looking vessel when it’s gone past. I like the old wooden hull and the upturned bow, it looks like a boat should to me. The Coble is a northeast design and has some of the heritage of the Viking longboats. It also has a shallow draught and is relatively flat bottomed. Now, this upturning fore and aft, what we’d call rocker on a kayak, allied with the draught and flat bottom explained a lot. They’re designed for launching and landing off beaches and therefore performing in the surfzone as well as out at sea…and out at sea they ride in a very comfortable manner. What struck me was how very similar it was to just an oversized kayak in this respect. Less of the pitch and roll I’ve usually experienced and more of a riding of the swells, very comfortable and very natural without the usual over-compensating to balance when walking around.
Well, the tide started to flow the other way and I was straight into more whiting. A porpoise surfaced near the stern and twice more as it headed north. Lovely to see and the first I‘d seen in a while. Maybe he’d eaten our cod though, the bugger. I jest; if he had, good luck to him. More whiting and a couple more dropped cod and then it started to tail off mid-flow, and all the while that wind was building and the sea was picking up, wind over tide. White Cheetah had moved inshore at the turn and had managed to land one codling but then decided to head for home. We gave it another half an hour as much to get an update on conditions on the way back as anything else.
Four feet off Ness Point…okay…then we heard the harbour mouth was horrible…okay. Time to go. None of this shuttling anchor warps to the bow and swing around to face it, just taps out, haul that big-ass Bruce off the bottom and up to the buoy and then haul it off the surface and into a bucket. I could get used to that, especially with someone else doing the work. Then it was bow into the swell and off we went, heading inshore first for the lighter flow as we headed back south to the harbour. Colin warned us it’d be a wet ride and that we were welcome in the wheelhouse but I had filming to do and I missing having salt in my eyebrows so I stayed on deck and let the spray, and more at times, wash over me. There’s something invigorating about bucketfuls of January North Sea hitting your face!
It took us a fair bit longer to return than to head out but what a ride! No slamming into waves or troughs and the rolling just felt smooth and, yes, kayak-like, even when the swells came beam-on. It was, to be fair, a shitty sea for a time but not once did I feel I ought to go in. I was enjoying myself too much for that! Then I saw the harbour entrance.
Now I’ve stopped paddling through there over the last couple of years. Unless it’s flat calm that bit of water sucks. Get a big southerly on an ebb and it not only sucks, it’s like the child of a Kirby and a Vax, with some DNA from a Dyson that means it doesn’t lose any suction. We weren’t that far of a south easterly and that’s the worst and with the wind a good force 6 by now it was going to be a lively entrance (compare the bits of video from a previous entrance, filmed from the pier, and our entrance filmed from the deck!)
Well, in we came, engine roaring and spray coming everywhere, swells rolling under us, waves breaking here and there. It was great. Then we were through and in the flatter water of the harbour and on our way back to the berth, gutting the fish in comfort.
Well, the cod avoided breathing fresh air but the whiting action was plentiful throughout the six hours we had fishing; I had a whale of a time and Doug was certainly happy with his day too, cheers Colin, until next time!
