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Monday 28 April 2014

Upping The Tempo…28/04/2014

Upping The Tempo…28/04/2014

There are days of playing, days of fishing and days of pushing the boundaries. Today was one of the latter. It wasn’t going to be easy, we knew that. It wasn’t going to be short, we knew that too. It wasn’t going to be for everyone and we also knew that as well. No, we had a target and we hoped we’d win our spurs today. Spurs is a pun as the target would be to winkle out, if we could, a rarity around here, an unlikely but possible fish which used to be around in huge numbers but is now down to migrating remnants, that fight like a demon and which appears, disappears, appears and is gone. The window of opportunity is short and with the restriction of sea conditions it’s even harder on the kayak.

I first heard of someone catching these locally last year, around May time from memory. Andrew had one that was record size, give or take, on Wader Bay which he returned as is best with this species. Now, I’m not one for preaching about not landing fish, I keep most sizeable species that are worthy of a meal and disagree with some who insist that all bass/smoothound/ray should be returned. Those fish legal to take I’ll usually take, I like eating fish and the three above are three of the tastiest fish around if you learn how to cook them. But Spurdog is different. Spurs take a long time to reach maturity, and I’m talking a LONG time, have a very long gestation and they can live for seventy years. Commercially there’s a zero TAC on them and as a tasty fish worth a fair price this must mean they need help. It’s not a fish I’m bringing home as long as it’s returnable. Now, the first had been caught here a week ago, a mid-double on Cleveland Princess (that was the first that Paul, skippering that day, had ever seen) and I wanted to get mine this time. It’d be a great christening for my new kayak too, the limited edition black RTM Tempo…and Shaun was free too.

Planning. The tide turns later out there on the mark and with the increased depth from what we normally anchor in we would have less time to fish and would have to fish the last part of the flood and into slack water, possibly into the ebb as well if we thought we’d be able to handle the onslaught of the turned tide. The prediction was for slack to arrive after midday and the paddle out would take around an hour, depending on the strength of the tide we’d have to cross as we’d need to battle it at a reduced speed, effectively going diagonally to go straight. A few calls to Brian for advice ensued and knowing that he’d also be out on the ‘three miler’, on Wader Bay rather than the Princess, was comforting in case of problems and also to weigh a good fish.

Shaun arrived just after eight and after a quick coffee and a slow gathering of gear we were ready to go. A quick call to Brian for an update on conditions – a bit lumpy, ripping through but not bad and they were catching bass. Time to go then and just before half nine we launched and set course for the first waypoint, the Stanford buoy, green can first.

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We passed between the port and starboard cans after around half an hour and then made for the South Holm, a Cardinal buoy another half mile or so out, still crossing the tide, in mid-flow now and through the shipping lanes and then on, straight for Holland. There on the horizon, not long after, we spotted Wader Bay at anchor and headed for them.

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A few yachts were milling around, filling up the radio with chatter about putting the kettle on and who made the best tea and so on. Oh well, at least they were off the gin…a few more minutes and we were alongside the big boys, heralded by the barking of Andrew’s dog and the sight of a nice bass.

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We chatted, watched a smoothound come up and then paddled uptide and out a bit before dropping anchor, letting out the full three hundred yards of warp on my reel, a buoy and a 1kg Bruce attached to it. Sixty feet of water, three and a half miles out, four and a half miles paddled against ten knots of wind in one hour twenty minutes. The tide had dropped to around two knots…would we hold? Would we feel stable?

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We held, no buffeting and the Tempo didn’t swing at all. Good stuff, nice and relaxing after the constant swinging of arms. There’s no stopping when crossing the tide, especially where it roughs up over the banks or speeds up in the channels, you lose so much ground in that flow. Now we could laze around and watch our rod tips. My pair of 10-20lb Maxximus Nano rods were fitted with the Maxximus LD15 lever drag reels, allowing me plenty of grunt and to the 40lb Maxximus braid I added a length of 60lb mono as a rubbing leader and then a zip slider length attached to 20lb wire with five lumi beads, a muppet off an octopus rig and a 4/o Maxximus Jig hook. I’d heard Spurs like lumi beads and muppets…I hoped so. Whole squid on one, half a herring on the other, 10oz breakaway leads and down went the lines, plenty out so the baits wouldn’t lift.

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Over on the boat they were heaving up roker and bass every time I looked around; I stopped looking. It was slow for us though, the occasional small tap on my rod with nothing connecting, a dog and a dab for Shaun just downtide and inshore from me. Bites weren’t thick and fast but then we weren’t expecting them to be, we were being specific with short hooklengths of wire. Bass don’t like wire and roker seem to prefer a longer trace, especially as it holds the bait on the bottom in strong flow.

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Slack came without really noticing too much and it passed far quicker than inshore. We took the opportunity while turning – we knew we were turning as I heaved up Shaun’s anchor warp – to wind in enough warp to be able to release a bit to ease the turn and to get the anchor reels inboard as we elected to fish the start of the ebb. This is a golden window for the fishing but is followed after a brief period by the full weight of the flow. None of this gradual build up; we had an hour maximum to get a fish.

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The most attention paid to me was by a large bull seal, it started off looking at Shaun but once it saw me that was it. It hung around for a while trying to make up its mind whether the 15ft black thing was something to mate with or just to ogle, coming within a few feet of me at times. Hmm…

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I’d added an octopus rig to one of the rods as spurs are often fished for with white feathers. These had a small strip of squid added for extra attraction and there came a tap…first fish on the Tempo? Yes! Up came a dog…a spotty, not a spur, on the bottom octopus. Luckily I like spotties. Back it went and back down went the baits.

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The sea was building with the increased flow and then the rod went again, up came another dog and while bringing it up a wave picked me up and spun me; we had 2-3 feet of chop now. I released the dog and called over to Shaun that I thought it was time to go; he was in agreement, it was getting worse.

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We stowed everything carefully and exactly, made sure things were going to run smoothly, uncleated the trolley and, releasing line I swung around as I shifted the warp to the bow. Then came the hauling…All the warp was pulled by hand into my lap and it took some doing; sixty feet of water was ripping past the 2.5mm nylon and then, almost above it, I felt the weak link go and things eased. Shaun was just about there too. We waved our goodbyes and headed back home on the GPS and compass – there was now a light mist.

South Holm, Stanford, all the sandbanks in between. Mid flow and paddling half the distance on one side to stop myself being turned. I couldn’t afford to stray from my course. A rudder would have helped me maintain speed and course as the Tempo, though tracking straight, was being pushed laterally by the surface water. It was tiring. I counted down; three miles, two and a half, two, one and a half, one…then land appeared,,,half a mile to go, a quarter, we were dead on track and landed smoothly where we’d set out from eight hours or so before with virtually no flow in the bay. It was low water here.

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So, no spurdog, tired bodies after a ten mile paddle, nothing for tea…we came off the beach and got stopped and chatted to by some guy who, when we said where we’d been, announced, repeatedly, that we were crazy. All I could think of saying was “Yeah”.


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