The Thirteenth of the Thirteenth; I should have guessed…13/11/2013

The Thirteenth of the Thirteenth; I should have guessed…13/11/2013 Time and tide wait for no man and I didn’t have time to wait anyhow. I had a short window; I had a funeral to go to later and a shift after that so it would have to be a quick fiddle. I could have been on a boat again but no time, no time! I didn’t want to lose time avoiding the roadworks so I figured I’d go to the end of the road and paddle north on the ebb to kiddie’s corner and fish the rocks first followed by the pier as it’s now closed to the public. So, I took the Cuda off the roof and laboriously dragged it down to the beach. Flat calm it was and for the first time in years I saw someone fishing here. I’d taken spinning rods and baitcasters with small leads and small flapper rigs; bait was pinches of black lug and tiny strips of squid. I wasn’t after monsters, just playing. Off I went, slowly drifting and paddling, stopping by the rocks for twenty minutes and two lost rigs. Spotted a lobster pot jammed into the rocks, not sure if it’s one of Brian’s missing ones or not. It’s well entrenched though. I decided to abandon the yak on the inside instead and clamber over the rocks to fish from up top. Lost another rig and a hooklength, still for no bites. Okay, paddle back out, go up the pier a bit and try there; nothing; paddle some more and drop into the rougher bit towards the end of the rip. The windfarm helicopter was buzzing around, something happening at least. I could see Brian out near the buoys too, wondered if he was catching. Things weren’t going well as I sat and watched my rod tip, I’d not had so much as a bite. I considered moving – to Africa – but then, what was this? A rattle! A tiny rattle! I watched, it rattled again, I struck, nothing on. I watched, it rattled again, I struck, nothing; I watched, it rattled, I struck, nothing. I left it five minutes and no more movement so I brought in the bait – squid gone. I cast out again. An hour passed with no more rattles and I wondered why people were so upset to lose the pier – it’s never been all that great really, certainly not in my lifetime. I decided time was getting on – though I had plenty left really – and gave the rocks another go, losing my last rig. I paddled back nice and easy and landed on a blank. weather was nice though so if I try really hard I’ll be able to convince myself it was all worthwhile.