Stay Up, Let Down…28/11/2013

Stay Up, Let Down…28/11/2013 I say let down, it’s not really, just not as productive as what I had in mind. And things weren’t right even before I got to the beach. Starting the night before I tossed and turned and barely slept before work so was shattered already. I tried to get a 45 minute nap before leaving and was awake within ten minutes. I again got held up by the bridge, both ways as it turned out and as it turned out sleep afterwards has amounted to perhaps a couple of hours what with more tossing and turning, disturbances and noise. I’m writing this with no idea how I’m going to last the next nine hours. Anyway, enough whining, it’s 28th November, 2013, 73 years since F/Lt John Dundas, P/O Paul Baillon and Major Helmut Wick were shot down off the Needles and we’re still not (nor ever will be) at the bottom of who shot down whom…but that’s a different interest for discussion elsewhere. Inciodentally, I’ve just this minute realised when looking for a suitable photograph that the pair have been immortalised by Airfix. That’s my Christmas present sorted then. You’re never too old to build a model Spitfire on Boxing Day you know. Anyway, it’s Thursday so I’m meeting up with [s]Jonah[/s] Garry again and Mike’s coming out to play too, not seen him in ages. First sea fishing session for Gary and after Tuesday’s session I’m hopeful. This is further backed up by an exciting call from Brian who’s highly amused by the references I’ve posted earlier to sprags as it was him that had mentioned them the other day and I’d realised that maybe I could use the term without everyone scratching their heads. Well, if I could find some. For those not in the know it’s a cod 63-75cm or more Englishly (which isn’t a word) 25/29 inches in length. It’s a commercial term and it’s one size down from cod (76cm and over) and one above codling (54-62cm making the current catch the fourth category of Small Codling, ie 30-53cm though under 35cm are undersize as far as landings go). There can be some variation in these figures dependant on current conditions and ports but they’re the ‘standard. figures. Got that? Good, let’s move on, it’s not actually relevant in the slightest. the purpose of Brian’s call is to give me the gen on the previous couple of days. Boat catches of 10, 21, and 23 fish averaging 3-4lb have been the order of the day. I’ll have some of that thanks. Right yeah so I’m going flat out after I’ve finally made it across the bridge, Buzzcocks blaring out to keep me awake and I skid to a halt next to Gary. I’m out and running; he and Mike are ready to go and in under five minutes so am I. Straight down and in and we’re heading out to the grounds. Gary safely down, Mike next to him and I paddle back uptide and out and drop down too, pulling straight pretty much in line with Brian on Cleveland Princess with another boat a bit further along (I forget the name). Two rods down with the usual frozen black tipped with a ring of unwashed loligo and I wait… I get bored, I’ve been here ten minutes without a bite. I think the others might be bored too but at least they can chat. Well I can chat too; I call Brian up, he’s just boated number two, while we’re chatting my left hand rod starts to bounce around, I lift it out of the ram mount and I’m into a cod. Dunno why but this week the cod are really going crackers, fighting like bass rather than cod and not giving up at all. It takes me a minute or two and it’s up and in at 48cm. Cut and bleeding and threaded onto my stringer, made last night at work, and over the side. Where there’s one there’s more. Apparently. Apparently not. Two and half hours later with two missed bites I’ve had and returned and one decent whiting. And a brace of whelks. I unclip and head over to chat to Brian while we’re on slack, get some pics and video and find out how he’s fared. They’ve landed four, they’re waiting for the flood which was when they got theirs the other day. Look at him. The swine! I’m waiting for the flood too but paddling back I see the other two, rods in and winding up their anchors. Ah well, there’s always next time. I follow the two Scuppers in, trailing and feeling it in the Cuda. We land and Mike, who’s been ashore far too long and had whiting and dab, gets my now-gutted codling; Gary, who had whiting, had one off the beach the other week and I have some at home so why not…besides, that’s another 3lb I don’t have to drag up that damned slope on top of the 80lb of Cuda..