I thought the bass were just about gone after such a slow session with Whippersnapper on Saturday; we really should have bagged up but only one fish on and that didn’t stay there but I was persuaded otherwise; some people need to be listened to and Norfolkboy is most definitely one of these. Anyway, proof of this came on Sunday morning after work. I went down the beach with my wife and the kids and, being a coward who doesn't like getting wet, I failed to go in past my knees but with it so clear I went wandering along the groyne...saw fry shoals, saw sandeels and saw some larger grey shapes in the turbulence...mullet or bass? Of course I went home and grabbed a rod and close to giving up on the mullet with a wedge the tide started to move and a bass took; 42cm of pleasant surprise!
So of course Monday had to be bassing. Hehe. Off to school went the girls, Wilmy arrived straight after and eventually Si pitched up as well; we’d filled the time drinking coffee. The sea was still really clear when we’d wandered down the end of my road and, although bloody windy and a bit choppy close in, we figured we should have a fair chance of finding a fish or two. So we launched.
A bit bumpy, that launch, a tad moist around the crotch. Out we went and then the swell started to appear…this wasn’t quite what was expected, nor was the strength of the wind but it was certainly okay to paddle in (though confused and unbalancing).
The thing was, we couldn’t tell what was happening around the corner – would the swell be smashing into the sea wall and rebounding too much for us to fish close in? We’d have to see. We headed north and I called up harbour control to verify that we were clear to cross the port approaches. We were and headed through the turbulence that kicks up there (it’s nasty).
Wilmy had dropped out. His paddle wasn’t right and he couldn’t get a proper purchase on the one side so he landed instead to reset it. I called him up when I found and eddy and he sounded really apologetic but he really shouldn’t have – it wasn’t a day to have things not right. Indeed, I was quite impressed that he did go in instead of following blindly and it wouldn’t have been a tricky session for him otherwise as it turned out.
I dropped down a Sliver and a J13 as I cleared the entrance and started to troll. Although the waves were quite large and crashing into the rocks, worsened by it being low water and this being pretty shallow, they weren’t causing a nuisance really. I’ve been forced off the reefs at Sea Palling with less than this. Si was paddling ahead and at a slightly quicker pace than me. Then he seemed to be going even quicker – I glanced around and saw my rod bent right over; snag.
I cleared the snag by freelining then paddling up to it. The J13, being a floater, fortunately released itself and I was away again. I turned, flicked it out and started to paddle. I got about 30 seconds downtide when the Sliver on the other side did the business and my spinning rod started banging away like a good’un. I grabbed it, made sure I had a firm hold and started to wind, tightening the drag as the fish fought me. This was going okay but I had to get away from the rocks now and so, with the rod jammed between my knees I paddle dup and over a couple of waves and out of danger before hauling in bass number one at 50cm. Lovely, thanks.
I carried on down, meeting Si on his troll back. He’d had nothing but as he started off again after our natter he hooked into a fish on the wedge and feathers, unluckily losing it near the end of the scrap. Ah well, some sport nonetheless. We paddled back together, me on the inside, trolling away and chatting when suddenly I raised my voice and said ‘watch out!’ That practice the other month against the exploding clapotis at the sea wall came in handy for both of us as 4ft of wave face went under Si just before it broke (had he been 6ft inshore he’d have been rolled) and I went over 3ft of it ahead with a burst of speed (6ft back and I’d have been). That was close; we laughed.
Nothing was happening on the rods though and a couple more passes later we decided to head back. Si passed some staging first and as I went round my rod started to buck; fish two. A schoolie. I had to use my paddle to steer myself back past the boards at the same time as the wind was in our face and the tide was still running because of it. A force 5, with near-constant gusts to 7 (27.8 knots recorded on the yacht club rood nearby) the tide had been held back and our timings had been thrown out. Anyway, I unhooked the little fella and passed back around again but didn’t seem to be making any headway, I was static; and the rod was banging again. A better fish this time, it felt at least as good as the first but sadly I had to steer again and it got off. Bugger. I think Si cursed me to be fair.
We carried on the few hundred yards to the entrance and then my inside rod started to bang like mad. Off streaked the 9cm jointed shad rap, straight into the rocks and I knew exactly what was going to happen. Fish and lure gone. I wasn’t overjoyed.
Permission granted we paddled across the harbour entrance again and what a sea! It was all over the place, we were up, down, sideways, water was coming over the side, we were surfing, the nose was digging in; I left Si standing, there being no other choice though I kept turning to check on him and he confessed after that he thought he was going in at one point. I know the feeling well, that’s a shit bit of water at times. Besides, I had this bloody wind to deal with!
It took an age to get back to the launch point and as I arrived I saw Wilmy launching again; he’d got his feather sorted and was practicing on his own while we were off fishing. Not one to give up and these were ideal conditions. We didn’t bother with self-rescues though as the lure of coffee was too strong.
As a side note the sea increased during the day; come 4 o clock my girls were catching rides on bodyboards after school. Then it was home to a starter of Ceviche; in a few days’ time bass gravad lax will also be served.
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