First I heard of a 21lb blonde on Wader Bay, then I saw an 8.5lb thornback on Lead Us followed by a 12lb’er again on Wader Bay. Then a 7.5lb’er showed up on Cleveland Princess. So it would appear that there was a ray of hope and it must be time to get my skates on. Perhaps another pun or two would come later but for now that’s taking things quite far enough. Meanwhile, back in the real world, my wife just so happens to regard skate (which isn't skate but ray) as her favourite plate-gracing fish; there’s something quite special about the texture of those slivers that peel from the wings once roasted and served with black butter and with a 4lb’er giving a decent 4 portion serving for my family, the whiting shoals having thinned, the cod starting to become less regular and the bass not quite about yet I just had to get out and target them especially on these larger tides. Oh, and I’d seen the first starry smoothound of the year turn up too and that’s a cracking meal in itself; succulent, meaty and incredibly sustainable not to mention being a sportfish of note. Time for a change. Still the Warbird 3700R and Maxximus IM7 12lb class and 20lb braid though, fun and guts in one package!
Rough skin requires more abrasion resistant line, small mouths require a drop down in hook size, quick and strong pulls demand beefed-up swivels so a slight change in the make-up of my tackle were needed too and as for bait, well there’s herring in the water so I had to pick some up, fresh, from the local fishmongers and of course thornies don’t turn their noses up at squid and the smuts love them sooooo…one rod with whole squid, one with squid and herring fillet and one with, if I could tempt one, a small whiting livebait that potentially could take a larger ray, an early bass or a hang-around cod. It’s the time of year for that and after all I’d taken a double figure bass only a month later last year by sticking one out on a whim.
Time and tide looked promising, wind and weather reasonable and with two sick children back at school Friday was the window of opportunity. Game on. Invites sent out, timings arranged and then Thursday I headed out to find some fresh herring, ten for a couple of quid and a 2ft gar for a further quid had me so pleased I bought a bag of whitebait for my lunch and set about filleting and cutting the required size of strip baits on a non-moving, dry and flat surface rather than a heaving deck with a blunt knife! Wrapped, boxed and away in the bottom of the fridge all was set for the morning.
Game off. My wife got home at four and told me the kids weren't going back to school the next day. All that preparation and the building excitement quashed and those lovely baits had to be consigned to the freezer where they'd lose some of their desirability (and firmness) with no hope of launching before Saturday at the earliest. Not impressed at all; then I hear Lead Us have had their first bass of the year on the same grounds. Cue much scowling.
So I went to work and frowned most of the night. Then, to lift my spirits, it began to rain…and rain some more. It was still raining when I left off. I wouldn’t have gone in that anyway so things were less miserable for the remainder of the day…cue rearrangements for the following morning and think no more about it…
…until 5am when the alarm went off. Down, kettle, dress, coffee, bait, rods, car, gone…down to Links Road behind Stu who’s just done the two hour run from the fens, Mike is already parked up and waiting as the sun comes up. The Scupper comes off the roof and gets dumped over the side of the promenade, rods out, gear out, drysuit and boots on, Wilmy and Andy pull up, five go fishing. A bit of chat then down to the water’s edge and in, ripples on the shoreline and we’re away, a bit later than planned with all this talking, a right old WI day out so far and with the tide already on the turn instead of giving us a gentle push we’ve lost the best part of it; we had anyway, we needed to be on the water at four really but that’s just evil whichever way you cut things.
A mile north and the marks pop up on the gps, numbers only and I’ve not been editing. Most of these suck but some are pure gold and I can’t remember which are which. Poor housekeeping Mr Snapper.
I drop down anyway and get the rods into position, cast a whole squid east and a gar and squid cocktail west, both on 2/0 pennels, with a lug and squid wishbone heading south and wait, Mike alongside and Stu inshore of him.
The flow is already picking up, doesn’t take long when the flood starts, but where are the fish? Half an hour passes before the first bite, a good one on whole squid, but nothing doing. I’m fishing like a halfwit, my lines have crossed and I’ve seen the fish on the surface, looked like a codling (but only a little fella) but by the time I’ve got things sorted out it’s off. Another quarter of an hour and Wilmy and Andy pitch up before heading back again, worn out from battling the flow.
Another bite on the squid, missed again. Half an hour later one on the fishbait…nothing on the wishbone, the standard meal.
The tide is pushing through now, really gurgling past. Every now and again a porpoise breaks the surface nearby, a pod of them are about and the occasional pair breaks surface. Not a common sight here but not a rarity either; I guess they’re feeding on the herring. Then Stu starts to drift south, his anchor pulling. It stops for a while then he’s gone again and soon he’s halfway home. I see him working his paddle in the distance but it must be grim, I guess the weak link has gone. He heads in and then back into his car for the two hour run back home.
Mike’s had one fish. I’m still waiting. The tide is screaming now, Lead Us has just gone by and dropped anchor inshore of us, followed soon after by another boat that I don’t recognise. My rod thumps, good hit…I grab it from the holder, wait for it to develop and it thumps again, I strike and the rod arches right over and I feel one hell of a weight on the end, feel it kicking and start pulling it in…the tide here must be hitting close on four knots judging by the pull I’ve had from a 1lb dogfish!
Now I’m a bit of a spotty dog fan but this one was a disappointment as quite frankly I was convinced I’d got something far larger, most likely my first roker of the year. Oh well…back down with a fresh whole squid…
What’s going on? Mike’s just overtook me and is winding in furiously, suddenly anchored from the bow. He shouts over he nearly went in for a swim as the yak swung right around, beam on. I guess the anchor trolley must have slipped the cleat. Fortunately Mike is skilled and experienced and has shifted his weight instinctively as this could have been nasty; he’s scooted the lines to the bow and is now hauling anchor and going home. That leaves little old me to carry on flying the flag and frankly I’m bored with not catching and the tide still isn’t easing. The latter is concerning me for up-anchoring too as I’ll have to swing around quick as well.
I gave it another hour, no bites, a lot of weed and a pound of lead to hold bottom. Forget it, go home. I swung around and started to haul anchor, all going fine until I came to the end and then I had to put a lot of pressure on, the bruce had dug right into the clay and didn’t want to budge; 15 minutes of heaving with both legs over the side to increase the drag and letting it go loose then trying again and finally it pulled clear, the breakaway link not breaking away. I reeled in the line and sat there drifting home watching my speed on the gps – an hour before high water and I’m doing 2.4 knots. Crazy stuff. An easy landing and away home with nothing to cook that wasn’t already in the freezer; that’s life.
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