Colin’s Coffee…04/02/13

Well Colin had some space on Lead Us again and they’d had cod the day before and I think he serves up Gold Blend…I’d made plans but when they got cancelled I couldn’t resist letting him know I was free…and then it was time for a fairly early night… …early maybe but I slept so damned soundly I didn’t hear my alarm. If the kids hadn’t have kicked off I’d not even woken up…time? 07:30. First word? Fuck! I was supposed to be there…three shits and a bollocks followed and I called Colin: “I’ve just woken, you’d better go without me”. He’d just arrived himself so he said he could hang on if I was quick – I was half dressed anyway and said I’d come right away but to go if need be. I called to my wife to make me a coffee as I grabbed things together and headed for the door… “What’s wrong?” “I’m supposed to be on a boat” “Are you?” Yes! I only mentioned it a dozen times yesterday, I should have been there by now!” “What about the dishwasher?” I’m so glad I wasn’t born with tit’s instead of priorities! Well I missed all the lights, drained my coffee (she should know I have it strong by now, surely. It’s only been seventeen years, (at least there was coffee aboard Lead Us, not like I’m used to when I don’t even take a flask with me), got through the roadworks with no bother, sweet…then parked up, ran down to a dock that wasn’t there, ran back to the car, drove down the wrong track, reversed up, parked, legged it down to the boat, ran back to the car to put it somewhere suitable and then, with loads of apologies and feeling like a twatt I hopped aboard and we left. Now if there’s one thing I hate it’s being late or other’s being late. Making others late is the worst…shamed, I busied myself rigging up instead. We took the tide out and down to Corton, a comfortable swell, plenty of colour and a bit of flow, things looked promising. Anchor down in the famous secret spot and the Coble swung around, laid off a bit from the wind which was blowing with some strength from the northwest. Cold, but flattening the sea pretty much though there was white on the tops of the water all around. My days of launching the kayak in that for a fishing session are gone though I’d have had a brilliant time with the sail up! Line sin and…nothing. Funny. It was the ideal time for the whiting. I was amazed it took so long, maybe twenty minutes and then, with a lovely bite up came one of around a pound, plump and kicking all the way into the air next to the boat. Which is as close as it got. More swearing. Then one of the other lads had one. A few more followed before slack water saw the leads bouncing and snagging and the boat on the turn; I pulled up and made a lovely bait up, a whole squid, skinned and with guts and spine inside for scent and shape, a frozen black shoved up inside and the hook passed twice through the mantle to stitch it closed a bit and then a head hooked through the eyes to drop some scent and colour into the water and keep the hook point clear, some guts streaming out the other end from the tentacles. A few jabs with a knife in the side to help the scent leak and it was ready, my favourite cod bait. Now to await the flood to start. Half an hour or so later I decided it was time to fish again and, fishing braid and with us laying off the wind still I crossed over to the lucky side, casting across the tide and keeping it fairly short and behind the other lines and waited…for the bloody nice bite that followed! Lovely bend in the rod, the smooth running of that Fladen multiplier with the big handle winding in something that didn’t feel like a cod but did, if you know what I mean…it broke surface and bugger me if it wasn’t the biggest whiting I’ve seen! A pound and three quarters, 45cm, as plump as you like and with some marks on the flank where something had had a go at it. Damaged fins too…that was a whiting to have a photo with! Sod it. It was worthy of three. Then Colin leapt into action and the first of the cod came aboard…nice fish! The others started picking up whiting and with the boat laying better I went back to my spot and cast back out again…five more minutes, that same bait and the rod started to buck…get in there my son!!! Cod…what I‘d come for; it was the same length as my whiting and though it looks a lot smaller the fillets aren't dissimilar in size... ...five minutes passed and then one of the others hauled one in, a better fish around the 4-5lb mark…three in fifteen minutes. I had my other rod baited now and in the water and then as the tide started to race through things quietened and then went dead. Wes at there a good couple of hours with nothing much happening, just weed pulling the rods down and jamming against knots and baits and leads…the fish just went right off the feed. The reels and rod just sat there, unmoving... Finally we started to get a few little taps; I had a reasonable rattle and as the really small leader knot (I’m using 20lb braid so have a 20lb flouro leader on for resistance against the abrasion expected from the rough ground here) cleared the surface I noticed a tenth of the weed I’d hauled in ten minutes before…and on the end, a fish. Then we all started getting them. Whiting mostly but one of the lads then pulled up a codling, another managed a whelk – his multiplier casting had come on from nothing to respectable during the day as he was determined to learn and had people to teach him and picked it up with no bother…for a whelk! You have to laugh sometimes. Soon after, Colin pulled into a another bite and passed the rod over to let the one person still waiting for a cod to have a feel of what they were like; another good 4-5lb fish was soon boated. A cod apiece, can’t ask for better than that on a day like this! The whiting carried on for a while and then the bites started to get lighter and strikes were coming up empty. I had half a dozen good bites on one rod in five minutes but nothing connected and then it came time to head in, the sun starting to set over Corton, Gunton, Lowestoft… Our entry was smoother than last week but then we got caught out. The tide was far higher than it should have been, perhaps from those northerlies we’ve been having and we wouldn’t make it under the bridge. There was nothing else for it but to go into Hamilton dock, tie up and sit it out. Well, that may sound like a pain and normally it might be. Personally I was an hour late for bed by now (being on shift at half nine at night) but what an evening to be stuck – huge flocks of starlings wheeled and turned over our heads for twenty minutes of more and I filmed and photographed them from the best position in town. I’d often been glad when the lights turned red on my way home before and I’d seen them but it’s over the water that they play and that was where we sat. Absolutely marvellous. They stopped and Colin set about gutting; I learnt a new and quicker way. I’m not slow (for an angler) but he took a quarter of the time I do. Granted I gill them too (I learnt in a hotter climate and with fish that required bleeding and weren’t sold with gills in) but still, this was rapid. That done we hung around another ten minutes and then made our way under the bridge with a foot to spare, in the dark now and motored down past all the moored boats to the space on the dock where Colin ties up. Bit of nifty manoeuvring against a strong wind and we were tied up and we were on our way home, all with a fine dinner in the bag. ----- Now I’m not the excitable type really, it takes some adrenaline for me to get going. I was dog-tired and had three hours available to sleep before getting up for work so you’d expect I’d be out like alight really. I wasn’t. I managed about an hour and a half. It’s now nearly half one and the sound of my fingers banging the keyboard are keeping me awake on shift. I’ve got another seven hours to get through as yet. I wouldn’t have it any other way! Thanks again Skipper, very enjoyable session!