I’m fed up with the cold, fed up with the wind, it’s been like the winter of 2011 all over again. My new Fladen kit’s been sitting around underused, the sea gear getting blooded with charter trips on Lead Us where they, and I, have been protected from the sea far more than normal. I had to get myself back into my usual seat, get the gear into the rod holders and take them through the waves. It was time to test them properly.
But still I couldn’t get going. The window was in the morning and I intended to go as soon as I’d dropped the kids off at school…but my wife had continued her day off by going back to bed and I figured this was no bad idea; I joined her and we both slept a couple more hours. The tide was getting away from me though and apart from coffee there was no other excuse I could find, after all I‘d looked at the sea on my way back and it was spot on.
Worms, squid, leads, knife, priest, coolbox…drysuit on, boots on and out the door. The wind was building…Corton? Hopton? I was just so indecisive today…sod it, Corton. Might get some tide then without too much paddling around wasting time until slack. Everything off and out, car parked up and down to the beach. I could hear the sea from the top. Marvellous, a shore dump and a south easterly. Could be interesting.
I rigged up, stuck all three rods securely in their holders, watched a bit to work out the gaps and hauled my Scupper in between sets.
I thought I’d screwed up for a moment but dug in and got over the top. Then I was off, straight out for half a K, drop anchor and see where things go. There was still a bit of the flood tide left so my lines went nicely downtide. Trouble was the wind was pushing my nose around the other way and I was weathercocked almost beam-on to the very short swell, 3ft at 3 seconds in the main, blowing a force 4, wind against tide.
2 rods down for now, black and squid, the third rod coming along purely to take a livebait if I could catch one. I lit up and then took my radio out, called up the coastguard and had to ignore the thumping great bite that slammed the rod tip about. I finished the call and then reeled it in, a decent enough whiting to put in the hold and my second point for the AA comp.
A smaller one followed while I was bringing the lines in as I started to drift along with the weakening tide so I dropped it straight down with the other two wound in. It did no good and I lost the bugger on a snag. I’d cracked off another rig too by fishing like a twatt and was now out of spares – three traces, three rods, no more screw ups!
The tide began to run and I crossed my fingers, another good whiting came aboard and then a tiddler which got lip-hooked and fed downtide on a plain lead, the line spooling off as smoothly as it wound on, so far so good.
A while passed and then a bite followed by my line going uptide past me…oh my I thought. Then I pulled into the snag, went beam-on, heaved and broke free, I was on the drift, anchor had pulled. I wound up rod two and then rod three snagged and wouldn’t budge; the tide was running hard already and I had to pull for a break, dammit. Three sets of end tackle lost. Wind over tide now, four gusting seven as it turned out and not a lot of fun. I spun around, hauled anchor and headed in against both…then sat there for ten minutes waiting for a safe, clear run onto the shore.
Nothing too glorious but dinner, salted Fladens and a wet arse is enough to keep me happy all the same. And I’d got another point.
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