2013…How was it for me

2013…How was it for me Short version, as far as the fishing and kayaking side goes: Marvellous. Read on for the long version. Well, 2013 started with three friends and eight whiting. Four days in and I was at Hopton with Shaun, Dave and Tony. Between us we had three species, cod and dab also showing but I only knocked off one point for the species hunt that would be running throughout the following twelve months, except I didn’t have my voucher printed off so it didn’t count. This was also the last dance for my Shimanos… Between then and the fifteenth, which was the next time work and the weather allowed me out, a courier had arrived with a couple of boxes full of shiny new Fladen kit for me to play with. I’d spent hours poring over the vast catalogue, cherry picking what I’d use and (what would take the abuse) out of the best bits and was now all ready to hit the water running. This first attempt would be on the lure at, it has to be said, the worst time of the year to be trolling. Still, you don’t catch fish in front of a nice log fire in the lounge… At least Ian got us a point that day. In fact that was the only point for the month as I didn’t get anything until my next session, again at Beccles, at the beginning of February when I landed a solitary roach in the company of Ian and Andy, Alex and David. So far the year was not going too well… The weather was shocking. There was another option though. We share the water around here with others of course and amongst those who give us a wave in passing is Colin whose charter boat, Lead Us, seems to bring in rather good catches. Well, by hook or by crook I was going fishing and so I hopped aboard for a couple of trips and we filled our boots with whiting and cod. Let’s try the sea gear from the kayak then…Maxximus to the front, charge! Out and in with a whiting on the list from the kayak. This was no good, the weather was hampering us so badly and I was running low on days; the next time we got a decent day we launched, Ian, Andy and I. A stunning day, flat calm and bright. We went from Pakefield, found no depth and kept going, got a mile and a half out, near Lead Us and another boat, dropped anchor and got fog bound in no time. It just rolled in and narrowly avoiding getting run down while hauling anchor we made our way back by compass and dead reckoning and a lot of guesswork and I put the three of us ashore a couple of hundred yards from our launch point. A complete fluke but they both refused to believe that. So I headed back to the river…trolling on quite a pleasant day and the pike were in playful mood, hammering my lures as they passed them. To get four hits on the lures in these temperatures was a huge surprise and with the pike off the list I could concentrate on the other stuff. Ian, Andy and I hit the river again the following day, a few silvers going onto the scorecard but not all of the ones expected. Still, the weather had finally broken and we made what we could of things. Three days in a row, this time out to sea and I get my cod point and food for the next few weeks…that was my last chance before heading off to hospital to have a hernia operation that would see me out of action for six weeks, Ian taking me to the hospital instead of to the river this time. Absolutely champing at the bit I was. If ‘d been able to walk I’d have been pacing like a caged lion. All my holiday was being used up to keep me off work for the required time and I should have been, as planned, in South Africa again hammering big, fast, hungry fish. But no, this had been cancelled…As it was the news was not good from there. My grandmother, who had first taken me fishing as a toddler and taught me to fish had died and then my aunt, who’d taught me to REALLY fish had become ill. So, stuck at home and unable to help or even drive I was comforted only by the weather continuing to be shockingly poor. To be honest I couldn’t have timed the surgery better in respect of fishing with day after day after day of strong onshore winds which battered the water and shoreline, removed the seabed and beaches, collapsed cliffs, demolished sea defences and generally played havoc. Mind you, we had an equal amount of days in which I could have surfed…I just polished my hooks and stared at my rods and waited until those kayaks could be driven to the cliffs and hauled down the ramp to the sea once more. A ramp demolished by the diggers trying to save the holiday camp at the top of the cliffs, our main sea launch now closed off for the foreseeable. Si drove me down to have a look, I struggled walking. It was the first time I’d really been out properly. Meanwhile points were being gained around the country and I had the most miserable score I could have imagined. It suited my mood. Six weeks they said I’d have to behave. Six weeks I gave it. The meaning of life in days, forty two and I wake up. “C’mon boys, Snapper’s fishing. You coming?” And there, on the clifftops at Gorleston overlooking the wreck of the White Swan, with frost on the ground and a clear sky I check the surgeons stitching. Now I don’t know about the power of the mind but the day before I hadn’t felt all that great, figured I’d need my friend’s help…but no, not at all; I was running at a hundred percent. Just a bit fatter. Loads of mates around; Tim, Dav, Ian, Shaun, Mark on the yaks, Marty, Colin and Jon on the boats, beautiful day spring day and…snapper’s got a cod! Not forgotten how to do it then; point one for leg two. Towards the end of the month some of us managed to fish a Lowestoft boat match and though I had cod, dab, whiting and dogs I wasn’t in the running; Shaun would have been fourth but it was not to be. I went to the weigh in and finally met (apart from waving from the yak) Brian from Cleveland Princess, who’d organised the match, as well as Andy, the fella who fished with a dog aboard when I paddled past at dawn one time – he showed us how to prepare roker and also told us that the egg cases could be popped in the water and should survive – something I’ve done myself since. First prize of £60 went to a fella named John who fished on Wader Bay with a 12lb Thornback Ray Seeing that and hearing of Andy’s 21lb blonde and similarly sized spurdog we went out with enthusiasm; Stu, Mike, Ian and Andy joined me. The tide ended up screaming through and with the latter two held up and missing the slack they struggled up to our position and then went back. One by one we got up-anchored by the flow and deciding to head in myself I drifted home at 2.4 knots with only dogs to show for it. May 6th…the sharks are here. After today it’s time for whole squid… Next day, my brother’s birthday, was a real red letter day for me. As I launched I spotted the first porpoise; I got a hundred yards out and sat amongst a pod of them broaching lazily around me…marvellous. Followed, once I started to fish, with loads of dogs, hounds and the first of the year – and not a common catch for us – a bonus roker! I went out again after my next set of shifts, solo and after rays after a bonanza on the boats was reported at the weekend. It was alright when I launched, doable if only a little bumpy. I lost a huge fish when the swells increased and I got hit by swell and wind mid-tide while thumbing the spool to try and pump it up; ping! An easy double roker. I was gutted. An hour later with a force six gusting eight I came in. Can’t be getting too much excitement in one day…Lead Us. up from me, surfed into the harbour that day with the prop out of the water! A couple of days later and I had a bunch more stuff arrive from Fladen, nice sharp hooks and some summer necessities. I tied some new hooks and went out with Charley, first time we fished together. Marvellous time had, crowned with a beautiful pup! The weather then turned and the rest of May was lost to it, or work, with the exception of an invite out with Marty on his Warrior…You want a skate? I’ll show you how to catch a skate.” He tells me…and he did. He also showed me how to catch a double shot and we boated sixteen between us…marvellous weather and great fun, loads of other fish aboard too…and I had a ten pounder; I also had no skin left on my hands from skinning the wings of those we kept. June started badly. The weather was still poor so we went for a paddle on Lake Lothing, dragging some feathers and lures about. Glorious weather for photos, atrocious fishing with an all-round blank and then Paul upset HM Customs and Excise who moaned to the Harbour Master who told us off and even the Coastguard couldn’t save me from a spanking…so I went around to the harbour master’s office and had a really good chat with them, all nice and friendly and another useful set of contacts were made! Mind you, Ian had come out with us so he could learn the ropes and know how to avoid trouble… Two days later it got worse with Paul outfishing me. First time I’d been on the sea with him for ages, since he’d sunk in fact, but I’d popped him in Eloise’s Tetra and he was happy enough…and into the hounds. The usual poor weather that he always attracts of course. June was still poor by the middle of the month so I started proposing to Si when we failed to find any early bass…hadn’t fished with him much this year as yet…unlike last summer when we were out every day. Fool went back to work you see. Tough. I wanted bass and bass I’d have. Time to hit Sea Palling for the first time of the year…the following day. Dragging my scupper over the mountain I spotted a somewhat challenging sea…boldness be my friend. Baitcasters and Xtraflexx 10-30g rods with a selection of Fladen lures – too rough to get as close as desired, big waves out of nowhere, dirty water, not a hope… Two nice plump bass for my efforts in an hour and a half; far too much concentration had been used up and I had to come in and call it quits…double surf landing, brace in between, and we had fresh salt-baked bass for dinner…and I had a bass to add to the species competition! June 16th…opening day of the coarse season…a Sunday…Father’s Day. Only one option, arrange family and friends and hope for a pike on the way to the pub and back…I blanked but had great fun with the girls. Monday was different of course, Monday was the traditional season opener with friends… Up to the pub, trolling and silver bashing; many points for the competition and suddenly Snapper is on the rise and the southerners and salty fishers are panicking…13 days to build that point-count up and six in the bag! Best fish of the day went to Ian though on a jigged worm and a very light rod; marvellous bit of angling. Time to get silly with things…for years I’d been hoping for a stickleback; well I found them when out pond-dipping with the kids and friends to fill the new fish tank and as I had a rod in the car… We all caught, though they used nets. Real Topsy and Tim jam-jar stuff! The next day, en-route to the river, I stopped off with a tiny hook and tiny morsels of worm and managed to catch one from the kayak after no small amount of trying! This midget was followed with by far my best ever perch, first cast of a new Fladen lure, unused to date, on a water I’d never paddle before in the only bit with any depth! A 12cm Eco Snake doing the business; I was heartbroken when I lost it in a tree a short while later! More minis; Paul has seen bullheads, takes me to his barbell spot for those and minnows; we watch the barbell flashing from the bridge, I’ve never seen them before…my guide puts me onto a minnow: Pretty little fish that! Almost out of time for leg 2 of the species hunt; onto the river, no ruffe or bream but a cracking pike for nick; Last day of leg 2 and I’m out with Stu for some seatime. Cracking session, loads of dogs and hounds, a roker as well and the first decent hound of the year; lovely stuff. No match for my Warbird 3700R and IM7 12lb class Maxximus rod! July started well with more hounds and dogs, whiting etc followed by a day on another stretch of river that I’d not really fished properly before. Paul was dragged off for a quick stickleback session first, had his first ever and was over the moon; we then hit the river, I loaded up with species points and he bagged a superb chub: Followed a day later by Mark getting a PB roker, the biggest yak-caught one I know of locally so far, a double. Me? I had good hounds and dogs, a summer cod and a PB whiting of 2 1/4lb… …and, on the return of my children from school…the comment of “why are there sharks in the sink?” Well, a man’s got to eat! Everyone was doing well! My nephew hammered me the next day – I blanked and he had five pike – with my super duper lucky Fladen 7cm Eco Narrow lure. This was his first time piking and second time kayak fishing: Humbled, I accepted Colin’s offer instead of taking the kayak off the roof – he wanted to give his herring nets a go. A two man job and a learning experience. I love herring! We did okay, not a huge amount but a few drifts gave us enough to make meals for a few days and boy did they taste nice; I just wish we had clear enough water for me to catch them on sabikis, especially as we had some shad amongst them too. The 12th of July was a day that none of us will ever forget. Here’s Paul looking excited about going pout for the hounds: We all dropped anchor but unlike the rest of us Paul had no buoy and unlike the rest of us he didn’t attach it to the carabiner first so Paul, within minutes, was adrift with thirty quid of anchoring kit on the bottom. He then rammed Si and myself, lost one of my rod rests and rammed Tim before landing. None of us have stopped laughing at him since… A few more days passed and then I went, with perfect conditions, to fish Scroby for the first time. Sandbanks, deep channels, wrecks, clear water and a hell of a flow…I was after Mackerel after Marty had done well on them a couple of days before. Nothing. I went out towards the windfarms, stayed away from the shipping lanes, jigged in 75ft of water and hit 4.9 knots without breaking a sweat; finished it all off getting some bass from the harbour wall as Marty called to see how I was doing. I’d not wanted to anchor anyway; I’d nearly sunk in the strong tides the day before. Water was getting in somewhere while Shaun and I had been hitting the hounds and I’d grabbed a good bass around the 5lb mark. I took on a few gallons and was so unstable I had to paddle ashore with my legs over the side as outriggers. Still, it was worthwhile: The next few days were more of the same; bass, smoothound and a bonus eel, a big one at that. Then back to sea Palling for an evening chasing mackerel and meeting naps in company with Mike. A glorious time of it we had and Naps finally got his bass after nine blanks. Two launches the next day, the first on the sea in the day time, with Tony losing his shoe and having to pursue it and return against the flow: …and the first of many evening sessions at Ellingham with Paul trying to find the elusive guaranteed dead cert bream…Yes Paul, revenge is it? 23rd July and my first trip out on Cleveland Princess with Brian. We had a whale of a time, loads of hounds and roker, some spotty dogs, whiting, surrounded by porpoises… marvellous and I was out where it’s difficult to fish on the yak. Three days later and I’m out on Lead Us again with Colin; within half an hour he’s telling me I’m easily pleased. Damn right, I’ve had my first local tope! I also had my first Lowestoft mackerel so was doubly chuffed; not to mention catching a bunch of hounds and enjoying Barry’s company. Of course Colin trumped us all with a lovely roker Four days pass and then back out with Brian; what a fantastic day! Four of us aboard and a mix of big roker and hounds, most coming to my rods, closely followed by Brian’s and the pair of us cackling with laughter at the other two anglers who, with same bait and rigs, seemed to have little joy. I thought I was going to swim so kept handing them my rods. Here’s Brian with a nice hound: And me with a nice Roker Now why would I go out on boats so much when I have yaks? Well...partly to fish all day, not bothered by screaming tides, partly to fish spots I can’t get to, partly for coffee and great banter with people who I like and admire but also because I learn loads of really good information that takes years to work out for myself. Such a luxury and so much translates to what I do on the kayak! And then, high point of the summer – the Cley overnighter! Dav puts me on a brown trout en-route That was a few miles away from this: Well, it’s not always about the fishing. We managed, eventually, enough mackerel for dinner, a fine beach curry, and they came so late all the reserve meat was already being cooked to coincide with about round four of beer. Marvellous evening with nineteen of us around the fire. Come morning I tried but it was impossible out there; Alex had the best idea. We called it a day before nine; I stopped for minnows on the way home. As you do. Paul’s revenge came at last. I really needed a ruffe. I couldn’t get one. Tried all my spots. Then he pulled up three next to me before finally I outwitted them… I was so pleased I took him small game fishing, catching gobies on the troll…he had his first. We’d been breaming again the night before, failed again I mean, though I had a PB rudd. Damn that place! We tried elsewhere too, best bream spot on broadland, failed. Then, the last day before going back on shift, hottest day ever in the world anywhere and we has a reasonable paddle and mediocre fishing on a wonderful stretch of river by Bungay. Ok so I went briefly on the sea in the morning but it was a few nights later before I felt up to anything serious again. It was pouring by the time I got to Ellingham, Paul unavailable. The curse was lifted, I got my bream and a huge chub, by far my biggest! Off to weybourne next…with Paul and Nick. I launched and while waiting for them to do likewise started the ball rolling: Followed by pout, sandeel and Mr Crisp N’ Dry. Take that, Mr Ruffe-Thief! We came back via sea Palling, meeting Tim and after a couple of bass while Paul tried to mate with a seal I decided to have a play. Well you would, wouldn’t you. Though it stopped Ian launching when he arrived; can’t say I blamed him. A few blanks followed, notably at Slater’s Pit where Paul and I watched someone pull a carp out in ten minutes; three or four nights were wasted there. Paul even failed from the bank. Shaun and I had fished Sea Palling that morning and I’d brought home a brace of bass so I thought my luck would have been in but it wasn’t and all I ever got from Slater’s was one eel. Speaking of eels, slimy things that they are, I had my family returning from France in a couple of days and had one personal quest to complete; someone had moaned about the nudists on the nudist beach and I saw an opening. So I set about raising three hundred plus quid for Heroes on the Water by stripping off and going fishing. It was very cold and I blanked but…what a result! Last day of freedom, my daughter’s birthday and a bunch of us turn up at Bacton. The sea is pumping, there’s 8ft waves rolling in and everyone is shaking their heads. Except me and Shaun. I watch. We’ve driven. We stick everything inside, batten down the hatches, wait and run the gap…easy! Then it’s out and a drift south past Happisburgh light. We’re drifting and jigging feathers and hokkais. Shaun calls over that he thinks he’s got a gurnard, one of my targets; umm…that grin is how I think of the fool but I prefer to think of him further away from a weever when we can’t land, are in rough water and a long way out! I get one straight after and later, after a 25 year wait, I finally catch AND RELEASE my first tub gurnard. A beautiful fish, the reason I saw my grandfather release the one he caught when I was with him on his boat, and the reason I wanted to catch and release one myself. That was my fish of the year. Possibly also my best fishing day of the year… Then the postman arrived with the most beautiful rod I’d ever seen or used, all the way from Sweden; Fladen Maxximus IM10 Highest Modulus 2-16g. Well, I’ve had so much fun with this, casting wagglers and hammering bass. I think if I could choose only one rod to fish with for the rest of my life, even though I’d be restricted on what fish I could target, it would be this. Such an absolute delight! I christened it of course, that very night, with good rudd and chub. Here’s it with a bass a few weeks later: …but I had to leave it at home the following day when I met up with Dave, Charley and Ian for a go at jigging the wrecks for summer codling (and more). We all caught and nearly everything went back though I had barbecued mackerel and codling for lunch. I also did some marvellous research on the wreck, a wartime sinking that caused loss of life, a ship and an aircraft and pulled the whole thing together. Due to its proximity to the shore and it being someone else’s mark I won’t publish it here but what a day…again! Just one bit of advice though, take a fishfinder, gps and a marker buoy as it was a nightmare to hit the right spot without! Breaming, chubbing, crucian and goldfish laking, that sort of thing followed and then I dropped my wife in the city and carried on to fish for mackerel, pout, bass and maybe wrasse and scorpions at Weybourne. A fella in an inflatable was doing okay with mackerel but first drop with the feathers and I had a double hit of bass. Then another. Great stuff! The only point though was a pout. I had to tow a dinghy on a very windy day, across the broad under my own sail power. Safety boat for the kids I was; Jonas and Eloise were fine… Later, I caught an Abigail. The end of August saw ten of us Anglian Kayak anglers out on a charter trip with Jon Old on High Flyer. We wanted something different, something we couldn’t do – toping and wreck fishing in fats, deep water offshore. Jon delivered a beautiful day and fantastic fishing with all of us coming away wanting more! Gary started the tope ball rolling following a brill for his nephew: Then we went jigging a wreck before we returned and Nigel had tope number two His son getting the third Thanks Jon! Next year we’ll stick some yaks on the back and fish some on the boat, some on the yaks! That big, powerful Offshore 105 can take it! I like the local charter skippers; I got constant updates from Colin of Lead Us one morning at the end of the month and then went out to fish the three mile bank by him and Brian on Cleveland Princess. The moment I dropped anchor and settled they told me I was in the wrong place and if only I could have done something about it! The kayak was juddering and swinging and I had to go bow on, the water ripping through at well over four knots. Both lines ended up behind me and I hoped for no roker to take a bait. They didn’t. Colin went in before me and Brian offered me a tow back to save me an hour but with slack arriving I wanted to jig for mackerel in the clear water. That was unproductive too! Oh well. One place ticked off anyway. Into September and a couple of minor sessions before a quick play a few hundred yards from the slip by my house, fishing kiddies corner, light tackle and ten fresh lug; double shot of pout and my first ever Anglian wrasse, followed by my first shanny!