Home? I’ve been home all month. Or in my house at least…today was exactly a month since Wilmy deposited me at hospital for the surgeons to carve me up and repair an inguinal hernia. It’s been one very, very long month. Fortunately the weather has been atrocious with strong easterly winds pounding the coastline here resulting in massive coastal erosion and ripping the inshore seabed to pieces. But a window was forecast, I’d had four weeks of being sedentary (or bored) and it was time to go home, home being my Scupper Pro on that patch of sea that I know so well.
Well, I slept badly. Couldn’t get off, kept waking up, all that…like a kid before Christmas. This isn’t normally an issue, hasn’t been for a long time. I guess it’s an indicator of the depths of my cabin fever. Around 2am I suddenly realised that I needed to print off my tournament voucher for the anglersafloat species hunt, Leg 2…yes. 2am. Thanks for that. Finally, at 05:30, the first bit of morning darkness I’ve seen for a while, the alarm went off and I crept out of bed without waking my wife. Ten minutes later, hands wrapped around a bucket of coffee and Dav was on the phone…
“Beach Road is closed. Hopton is out, there’s rocks dumped at the bottom of the slip, they’re rebuilding the sea defences.”
Damn…okay, think man, flood tide, next launch…”Go to Gorleston, Marine Parade above the wreck of the Swan, we’ll just have to paddle from there.”
Then onto the forum, let the others know and hope they check it. Voucher printed, bait freed from the freezer – black lug, unwashed loligo squid and a handful of razorfish (supposed to be good after a blow and we’ve had weeks of it). Drysuit, boots, bait, rods, cameras into the car and then I look for a scraper…
Yeah. The sun’s coming up now and it’s frosty…pulling up on the clifftop, after a call from Wilmy, and the thermometer is reading minus four…whose idea was this?
Lovely morning though, lovely sea…benign but the ghosts are there with the sand ripped out of the beach, a drop and exposed groynes that were largely hidden before.
Repaired hernia or not, I was getting on…yak off and onto the trolley…
Then the rest of my kit out, drysuit on, etcetera as usual…Shaun is here now as well so that makes four, though he has to nip home for his seat. Time to go down the slope.
At the bottom I was greeted by a nice mix of frost and sand.
Now I mentioned the easterlies, the erosion and the carving out of sand. Well, these show it rather well – this was a smoothly graded sand beach not so long ago:
Final setting up and stowing of kit and we’re just about ready
A bird photographer pitches up and has a chat, I match the hatch…there’s razor, clams, brittlestars and clearly the seabed has received a pounding. Dav has given me some fresh-dug lug too so I have loads of choice today. Game on!
We launch. I tell the guys it’s five miles when in reality it’s only around three. Jon calls me up, he’s spotted us but I can’t see High Flyer out – no, he’s on his commercial boat heading for Yarmouth to do some stuff on it. We chat and I hear Lead Us chatting to Cleveland Princess; the latter are heading south so I won’t get any nice photos of them today in this bright sunshine. Ah well. We pass the church and carry on down towards the rough off the holiday village; Lead Us, the sun glinting off the fresh paintwork Colin’s applied while being stuck in port, is heading for the same spot as me, or thereabouts, but I’m stopping short because my mark worked well on the ebb so I want to be uptide of it. The four of us drop anchor in the general area, Colin is down too and the fishing begins.
It’s a bit slow. It’s a good ten minutes before my first bite and up comes a little whiting; undersized but a point with a picture. A quick smile and back in. There’s very little tide really, that alternate launch has cost us.
We sit for ages…I notice, oh an hour or so later, that I have a missed call from Si – he was possibly coming today but we’ve not seen him. I guess he’s assumed from Beach Road being closed that we’ve cancelled…I call him up and completely mess up my voicemail by having the rod thump down; I strike and that Maxximus IM7 curves over; cod. Stonking fight all the way up in the thirty or so feet of water and almost on slack I feel everything on the 12lb class outfit and thin braid, this is the best cod scrap I’ve had in a long time! Up on the port side, foot slightly under my thumb goes in its gaping mouth; I pull up with the trace, one of the 2/0 hooks on my self-tied spreader wishbone is deep so there’s no worry. Interesting, it was this rig that caught the four last time I was out and my pennel is untouched as yet. I’m chuffed, 55cm and going on 4lb I’d guess, lovely, fat fish, its stomach full of smaller fish.
That goes part of the way to replacing the 3 fish that went into fish pie for my in-laws and us to eat the other night! Then Marty pitches up having been offshore and had nothing, coming to try his luck on the inshore mark. I’d had an invite to fish with him but had already made plans – he still looked bemused by the call from my eight year old daughter the day before: “Snapper wants to know if you’re fishing tomorrow. Okay. Bye.”
Then Westie turns up, finally free to get back east again and join us. It’s slack now and I’m being pushed away by the wind and so I’ve snagged. Tim paddles my rod uptide and tries to free it, no joy so another trace comes out and then, after a catch up, he goes and drops anchor too.
Me? I finally find my reel-cam, inside part of my drysuit, and attach it in time to capture a whiting. A funny one too, speckled on top like trout or something. I’ve not seen this before.
The mount can be easily moved up and down the butt by releasing the clip and was still attached with my next codling, a baby at 40cm. A few more whiting followed but nothing much apart from one 39cm specimen on a double squid pennel and so, with 4 keeper whiting and 2 codling (though the 40cm would have gone back if the hook wasn’t down at the back of the gills) it was time to debait, up anchor and head back to Gorleston…Lead Us thought the same and cruised by for a photo…
Bristol fashion again!
Up-anchoring, mid-tide. Always with trepidation but what a bloody chore today!!! First time using a Bruce, and it worked well and the usual swing went fine...but hauling the reel back amidships to release line, shuttle it forward and start to wind in went awry as soon as the carabiner twisted and I was jammed up beam on. This is about the worst position to be in on a fishing kayak. Fortunately I’m well-practiced at dealing with this and shifted myself to compensate while pulling the kayak sideways until I got enough slack to free the warp before it once again went forwards and I pulled the lot in. The others came past one by one, all except Wilmy. Trolley problems. I headed up and Tim decided to follow. Hell of a job against that tide, flat out we made a knot at most. I grabbed across his bow and he hauled until things went to the bow and then I scooted up, grabbed the reel and left him to it. A pity that the anchor jammed a bit later and had to be cut off after all that but it was one of three from the five of us. We’re building a bass reef, see!
Back we went, back to Gorleston, having a good look at the landslides and smashed defences on the way. Caravans have been moved back, paths have been cut away and tumbled down the face and whole pilings have been ripped out. Work is being done quickly at least but I still think the only option is a string of rock defences right along the coastline from Hopton to Pakefield like they have at Sea Palling. Not only does it work, and well, but it makes for great surf and a superb haven to troll for bass…
Westie and Wilmy led while I child at the back with the camera, radio and so on, Dav and Shaun half a mile ahead and within a short time we were back at the launch site for a nice easy landing.
With everything back up the top (thanks for the help guys) and loaded up it was back home again where Abigail insisted on gutting a couple of fish herself and my Grandmother-in-law exclaiming, as I predicted, a classic French ‘ooh-la-la’ at the site of my cod. A month since the op and I’m back at home and giving my knife a workout.
The tide was pushing through and we were off Tramp’s Alley at Corton in minutes, a mile or so and there appeared to be a few on the beach after some fish with dabs and cod being landed by all accounts. Lead Us was down the way a bit on Colin’s usual mark but I dropped anchor on one that had furnished 4 codling last time I’d hit it. One rod carried the usual 2/0 spreader wishbone while the other had a 4/0 pennel with my secret weapon…down south cod love cuttle and I’d got hold of some uncleaned ones. A cocktail of one of these cut in half with a couple of blacks, a couple of razor and a piece of squid all wrapped up together promised scent and nutrition to anything in the area and I was really hopeful. Down it went…
I mean come on, you’d have eaten it wouldn’t you? That’s like a bloody great joint of beef for Sunday lunch, cooked so it’s pink inside…but no, it was like pulling teeth. We had a bit of swell from behind, being on the ebb pointed north and with a south easterly on our backs but the water was quite clear for here. I just sat there. It was half an hour or more before the first bite and a couple of whiting came in and promptly got sent away again.
One hit on the cuttle to no avail and one missed bite on the wishbone that had had the two whiting and I decided to up-anchor and go to another, deeper mark hoping for dirtier water. It turned out that it was close enough to shout to Colin but not, sadly, close enough to match him for fish! I passed Shaun and Si on the way down. Shaun had landed two codling so far and had another as I passed him, his fresh worm doing the business. I had to pass them to know what was going on as I’d lost my phone, presumably when running down to check on that kid. Anyway I dropped anchor and settled on the mark, the water a bit dirtier and I got some encouragement at seeing Colin hold up an 8lb 6oz thornback ray he’d had on the second cast! Encouraged for now and encouraged for the coming weeks. Then I watched him get the net out for a codling.
So I sat there and waited.
Finally my waiting paid off with a good bite and it felt a lot heavier than the whiting. Cod, I thought and sure enough a small one popped its head up, it’s huge mouth slowing the retrieve in the strong flow. In size but one which would have gone back it had taken the hook down into the flesh behind the gills and I had no choice so down the hatch it went.
Well, two species at least. Next thing I know Shaun pitches up. He’s suddenly become devoid of an anchor system as a he’s been fighting a fish and his buoy, unconnected to anything, has drifted past. A very unfortunate occurrence for him but he gave me his remaining lug, nice and fresh, so I did alright out of it! He’d had 5 codling to over 3lb so at least his day wasn’t a total disaster.
I stuck some fresh on, tipped with squid and quarter of an hour later I had a nice rattle, resulting in my first dab of the year! Another point for the species comp and a keeper for my dad too – he loves them. The funny thing is though it had taken the frozen black although I am certain the fresh brought it in, oh and a lift of the lead seconds before had triggered the bite.
There’s still fish coming aboard Lead Us so I’m starting to feel like I’m doing something wrong!!! I’m being totally outfished left right and centre here but then, a walloping bite and a nice bit of weight, I decide to shout about it and Colin looks over – it looks like I’ve got a biggie here at last and, well, yes I have – a big dog of a couple of pounds. Species four and I’m happy. Not only do I like dogfish but I also like the significance that the summer species are showing now. Now, dog fish are good eating but smoothies are bigger so a quick kiss on the nose for luck (always to be done with species of sharks) and off it went to swim around and annoy Colin by robbing his baits.
I was shivering now, strangely. That wind was cutting through to my tired old man’s bones and when Si called up to say that someone had found not only my phone in the aquapack and the tenner inside it and given it to them (they’d hung around for someone who might look like they’d been on the water) I decided to head for shore. It’s unbelievable, maybe I’ve earned a big bucket of karma this week or some people are simply wonderful. Perhaps it’s a bit of both. Anyway, the tide still hadn’t turned so I gave it ten more minutes in the hope of a sudden drop and to finish off my bait. Well there you go…two big, hard, fast bites followed, missed one on the other rod while I was setting the hook on the first. Distracted I wasn’t sure I’d set the hook right and gave it another pump; disaster! I reeled up and there was nothing attached to the swivel below the running link. As though my knot had failed. A knot that has been landing a lot of fish in good tides lately as that trace has stayed attached to the line, so what had happened? I can only guess that the knot had worn or got damaged. Either way it’s my own stupid fault that I lost that fish. I didn’t half swear before I penneled a whole squid and tied that on suspecting smoothounds to be the culprit and, sure enough, the rod bucked down a few minutes later but this, whatever it was, spat the hook. Cod? Smoothie? I reeled in and set off home, hauling the anchor and sticking my nose into a freshening wind and a sea that was chopping up more and more. It was quite a work out, that half an hour paddle back (remember how little time it took to go down?), the tide being held back from turning by the following wind long after it should have ran me back smoothly.
Shaun awaited, gave me my phone and insisted that I keep his fish that would be weighed in though it wasn’t in the end as others had bigger. He didn’t want it though, insisted I have it as he had plenty and besides, I’d swapped my dad’s dab for it already. Good deal in my favour I reckon.
I had time to grab a coffee and change before Colin called me to say he was heading in, sounded like a bumpy ride, and I biked down to the harbour for the weigh in…not that I had anything to weigh in with two small codlets, 3 whiting, a dog and a pair of dabs being my only catches (with nothing on the cuttlefish). Brian from Cleveland Princess, who’d organised the match, gave us some chatter, took and paid out the winnings and then…
First prize of £60 went to a fella named John who fished on Wader Bay with a 12lb Thornback Ray
Second at £35 was Colin on Lead Us with his 8lb Ray. His 5.5lb smut was disallowed as it’s one prize per person though a 3.5lb cod to his charter took third and a payout of I think twenty quid. Things had to be cut short though so no pics from me as the bridge went up and Colin had to go!
Me? I hung around chatting for a while and ended up having a look inside Cleveland Princess which I’ve only seen from the waterline before – a couple of snaps of Brian for the album and a good long chat with plenty of fishy tales and mutual salty language ensued before I headed back home feeling really good about life.
So cheers Brian for arranging it, Cheers Colin for rubbing it in, Cheers Si and Shaun for joining me and Shaun for Monday’s lunch and cheers to all the others who were out and made the competition a competition.
Oh yeah, and you know how I said that Cuttle/squid cocktail looked good enough to eat? Well here’s my dinner:
