Wet and Willing…27/06/2014

Wet and Willing…27/06/2014

It had been mentioned here and there over recent weeks but we only committed to such drastic action during a brief encounter at the supermarket the day before; she should come to mine. So, it was a date and after a brief nap following my last shift another man’s wife pitched up on the doorstep while my wife was out and promptly stripped in the hallway before squeezing into neoprene. Boy would James be jealous at not being there with us.

I, meanwhile, was making coffee and averting my eyes like a gentleman. Damn this conscience of mine. Down went the coffee and I ran upstairs to grab the last bits required and we left to head down to the beach. You see Marisa likes eating fish. She also knows how to paddle and learnt to fish as a girl. Her PhD in fisheries science (specialised in Tench) wasn’t going to be much use to us as either of those skills but never mind. Ideal partner for a casual session then, up for a session and totally at ease with a rod in her hand.



Enough of the innuendo, James will be inconsolable especially as he has pink hotpants on his mind this week. We launched and headed straight to the pier. I’d intended being about 45 minutes earlier but this hadn’t worked out and even though we set a brisk pace north we missed the tide and by the time we got to the rocks the tide was going the same way as us.



Not a complete disaster, being quite slow still, but with the water coloured up with lots of suspended sand and clarity perhaps three inches the additional movement of the lures running against the tide and the slower speed possible would have really improved things.



Still, it was as much about going out for a paddle as seriously fishing. I’d even taken three fillets out for lunch for us and Flo, who would be back by then I guess. Anything caught was going home with Marisa anyway.

Well, we chatted all the way up to Ness Point and she saw a part of Lowestoft she never has, in fact I don’t think she’s paddled on the sea and usually she’s in a canoe rather than a kayak. Not a problem as the sea was reasonably calm on the way north. Turning and sticking the lures back out I had one that wasn’t running straight so swapped with Marisa as I was staying in closer to the rocks, putting the other as an unused rod on her kayak. And off we went. Now the tide was in our favour, slowing the kayak nicely and making the lures vibrate beautifully. I got halfway and bang! I called her over and gave her the rod, the pair of us manoeuvring out from the rocks.



A fabulous fight followed, Marisa was shrieking and laughing and really enjoying the whole thing, amazed at the power of her first bass. She did all the work until I moved in, grabbed the trace and landed it (tricky part without a net and I know where the sharp bits are).



I unhooked it and handed her the fish for some pictures. She marvelled at it, the sheen, the whole look of it, everything. She’s seen ones I’ve caught that day but there’s nothing quite like one straight out of the water to appreciate a fresh run bass.



We carried on back down and the wind started to build along with the tide. Up ahead she spied a seal and moved closer, getting to thirty yards or so before it decided to stop eyeballing her and splashed away in a turning dive. A big bull seal, another new experience that was greatly enjoyed.



Yep. The waves were building.



Out came the Orca, dredging all night long across from my office, and seemed like a good photo op!



By now we were approaching the harbour mouth and it was decidedly lumpy. Close in, where it was rebounding, I didn’t stand a hope though I carried on trying – I was being bounced up a couple or three feet in quick succession and being pushed laterally. Some concern for Marisa but she seemed to be coping…



This just left the worst bit of all. The southern end of the pier has shallow water that chops up at any excuse, the flood tide was now really hammering through at a couple of knots and being propelled up and out with the rip, chopping up in the shallows and bouncing back off the wall. The wind played a role too and we had sandbanks for a lot of the way in on a dropping tide too. What does this mean? This means that I was testing the MidWay in the nastiest conditions (though not the largest) I’ve taken her though so far, with that pointed bow burying while water was coming over both sides and the stern with waves hitting me from three directions, it was far more secure than I felt it was though and once I settled into it I enjoyed the sensation of a more agile ride. This also means that even a novice paddler in a Tempo can paddle against wind and tide and through a challenging sea upright and with a smile! She loved every minute of it and was buzzing for the half-mile plus that we had of this.













It flattened off a lot once we got within a couple of hundred yards of the beach and though it appeared flat the low waves rolling to the beach were moving fast and the pair of us surfed in.

I fetched the car and Flo, loaded up and the three of us went back home to enjoy a fine lunch of panfried bass fillet with a chilli and balsamic dressed salad…and a San Miguel of course. There's nothing quite like like fooling around with a married woman.

Returning to the River...25/06/2014

Returning to the River...25/06/2014

Amos stayed over following our smoothound session the day before and come morning I fried up a breakfast that would keep us going for the day while thinking what to go after. The decision was to fish an evening river mark in daytime, heading over to Ellingham for the first time this season to try for chub on sweetcorn and other fish on maggots. This of course neccesitated a brief stop at a tackle shop near Beccles, end result being Amos seventy quid poorer.

There were cars and trailers filling up the parking spots by the weir so we made use of what space we could, unloaded and headed downstream to my usual spot.



A size 12, legered with double sweetcorn and some freebies thrown in as an attractant brought only one little nibble. I could see chub and roach below me so changed over to maggots on a size 16 and started fishing for normal sized fish. The first chub followed in no time, followed by roach.







The fish shrunk as time went on until the average size of chub and roach was no more than a couple of inches in length so I moved a few hundred yards down and tried my luck in another likely spot by a fallen tree, having spotetd decent chub the other side of the river. Quite fruitful here, the first cast resulting in a nice river rudd.



Roach and chub followed and then a dace.



I moved again; nothing in the next spot, just upstream of another fallen tree so I went the other side, cast out into a gap in the weedbed and brought in a brace of nice half pound chub in subsequent casts.





We moved down again, more of the same and then headed back up to the weir. I was hopeful of gudgeon and perch but this was not to be, just plentiful roach. I gave it an hour and then it was time to go so I could be home in time to sleep before my shift. Great weather, great company and easy fishing. A nice, sedate change from the last few days.

Home Turf Hounding...24/06/2014

Home Turf Hounding...24/06/2014

Amos was in the mood for a spot of fishing up this way and had a couple of days off; I was free as well and my wife was happy for him to stay the night which gave us plenty of options. A delay on the roads saw him arriving from London at nine, by which time I'd dropped the girls at school and checked the state of the sea at three different points. That was our day planned then!

Coffee and chat followed before we rigged up and headed for the end of the road. A siple plan, paddle out and along to the harbour, troll the walls and then cross to troll the rocks up to Ness Point before shooting out half a mile and paddling up to Gunton to drop anchor off Links Road. Only a couple or three miles with an ebbing tide which should start to slow around the time we dropepd anchor. Meanwhile the word was good; Brian and Andrew were out on the three mile bank and having a good start; they ended with eight roker, a bass and a multitude of hounds.





Trolling wasn't too convincing. The water was coloured up and running with the tide doesn't help the lures vibrate all that much, nor do the signals transmit as nicely it seems. It also makes things a bit quick too and I'd guess at around a four to one ratio of success compared to running against the tide. But it's always worth a go when travelling past.



We got no takes at all and had to head out to avoid anglers on the rocks at times. I considered a run back but decided against it and headed for Holland instead, stopping half a mile off and drifting down to a point that'd put us out of the way of passing traffic. My rods, now changed over to 2/0 zip slider 2/0 pennels, were baited with squid and once I'd dropped anchor these went down with eight ounce breakaway leads on them. Amos pulled up nearby and started sorting his own rods out.





Straight off the bat! Once settled I called up the coastguard just to let them know we were here to avoid false alarms and had to talk while my rod was banging away inside the holder. It stayed on fortunately and with the brief handed over I reeled in smoothound number one! A small one, a couple of pounds but a decent pull in this tide.



Half an hour and a couple of missed bites later and I struck into another fish; not a hound this time, heavier with a different fight. I was surprised on bringing it in to find one of the small cod we were seeing a couple of months back; the mouth had created enough drag to make the fight seem like a better fish, a big mouth that had taken a whole squid!



I followed this with a whiting, third species of the day.



What followed was nibbles, snatch bites, another two small hounds and a small cod and one thumping great bite that I missed while trying to use my phone. Amos finally had a fish, a three pound hound. Then, however, our wonderful day started to decline, the sky darkened, the wind built and it started to hammer down! For the second day running I regretted not bringing my cag and got wet. And cold.




Fortunately only another half an hour need follow before up-anchoring; I wanted to troll back against the last of the ebb once the bites stopped and try for a bass before landing at slack and the right time to get home for the family. Did the bass want to play? No. However we were treated, by the harbour mouth, to the sight of the Excelsior entering port. Built in 1921, this 77ft Lowestoft-built fishing smack is amongst the sixty most important historic vessels in the UK and a pleasure to see where she belongs. Once she'd gone in through the heads we crossed and headed back to the beach, landing and heading back to mine for the evening.

Not so Smooth hounding...23/06/2014

Not so Smooth hounding...23/06/2014

My nephew has been waiting a year to catch a shark, ever since he saw his first smoothound; either the wind, the swell, the tide or days free had conspired against it all last summer but with a low wind flat sea type forecast for today I sent him a text to invite him out with me. And so, at eight in the morning, he turned up and we headed north to fish Caister where James and Shun had had some fun last week.

James was there when we arrived, Shaun turned up straihght after and we were joined by John who had a week off and had travelled up from Essex for a spot of fun. He'd asked for advice on where to go and ended up being invited to join us. He had a Jackson Big Tuna on the oof which was of interest as I'd not seen one in the flesh as yet.

We got ourseleevs sorted ready to launch, taking our time as the tide would still be running hard and the old chaap who lives by the track oppped out to say heloo and we had a chat. He fished a bag of leads and booms out of his shed for us too which was really kind. I'd promised him a fish last time and was having a second attempt at it!

Down on the shoreline we came across a bit of a shore dump. It had been flat at Lowestoft but the wind was at least double that predicted and was blowing across and onshore. Mie was aghast but I helped launch him and got my own kayak reay. I was on the MidWay again and he was on that fish-catching black Tempo. Shaun had his out also for the first time while James was still in his yellow Scupper for now rather than get his own Tempo dirty. I followed on out with John coming shortly after.

A few hundred yards in a lumpy sea and James dropped anchor followed by Shaun. I got my anchor down and set and clipped Mie to it before finishing setting him up and dropping down on my much shorter reserve reel. The water was piling through. I drifted straight past Mike and ended up parralele with James who was also on the move. While Shaun was into his first hound...I hauled up and paddled uptide again to Mike, slowly. We were in 50-60ft and it was racing through at over three knots. Shaun was into a second...and Mike was in already too!



Hmm, how to do this. I came alongside twice before I was able to get in position and pulled up alongside him, attaching the two kayaks together. His rod was still thumping but then the combined yaks started to drag his anchor so I dropped mine as well. It didn't catch at first and got itelf the wrong side of Mike's line and fish...some manouevring was required before I cleared it.

Mike was excited, this was fighting hard and stripping line, not the pike, perch or whiting he's experienced before by any means. He soon had it under control and alongside and then came the task of landing it. It wasn't having any of it and after a thrash at the side it dived again before being brought back alongside and hand-landed. A nice six pounder to start with. Promise fulfilled! A strange one this, star markings on one side and plain on the other.



With the two kayaks next to each other we got a constant soaking with the flow and chop hammering up the middle before hitting the gunwhales and bouncing up, to shoulder height at times. We should have put cags on really...

Another effect of being together was the noise and disturbance caused and while Shaun continued to catch and James headed inshore near John where the flow was easier to deal with and his anchor would hold we sat biteless for a good hour. Then my rod started tto twitch as something nibbled at the squid...not a hound though, my first Norfolk kayak thornback! I've had them over the border in Suffolk and in Essex too but it's still pleasing to get one in the county I grew up in. Only a small one though so a quick look and some photographs and it went back.



Another half an hour passed with a few nibbles before I got a better bite and struck into my own hound. Only a little one of a couple of pounds, nicely hooked in the mouth and it soon went back.



And then Mike started to get some taps. He picked up the rod and waited...the bites continued and he struck. In came his second hound, again a couple of pounds and lightly hooked and back it went.




We sat there for another half an hour through a few taps and rattles and then, with the tide easing enough to pull anchor I untied Mike and he moved away, leaving me to deal with the anchors.

Oh boy! Hauling two anchors is not advisable! Pulling one put strain on the other and pulled the kayak sideways; there was still a good knot and a half of flow and I was left with no option but to cut the anchor trolley on the one side and deal with them seperately. With the remaining one under the boat on the other trolley things were a bit dicey as I turned backwards in a 360 before settling bow on and pulling the anchor in against the tide. With it onboard it was time to return to the other buoy and attach it to the free trolley and haul it in as well before heading back in, across and against the current.

Mike landed safely with John while Shaun and I headed in further up the beach, nice and easy, and then carried the kayaks up to the car for the ridde home and a deepfried smoothie!

Catching The Worms...21/06/2014

Catching The Worms...21/06/2014

My clock was not reset after my shifts and so I woke at five. That's dumb. It was already light though and I knew that was it for me, I'd not get to sleep again and

I'd had an early night anyway so I figured I may as well get up and have a coffee. I managed this without waking anyway.

I also got dresssed without waking anyone.

I also changed some trebles on some lures without waking anyone.

Which led me to thinking i could jump in the car and get the kayak to the end of the road without waking anyone.



By six I was on the water and had my lures out = pink Minnow 12 and orange Minnow 11, both Fladen of course, inshore and offshore sides respectively. I paddled alog

the rocks and up the harbour wall to no avail and then crossed the mouth; no-one was about and the only radio chatter were windfarm boats moving around to bunker fueld

from various parts of the port. I ran up the iron work and around the point with nothing and figured that my dawn excursion was merely going to be an enjoyable start

to the weekend. As it was the water was coloured up with a three to four foot swell, coming onshore and hitting the rocks. At least it was fairly high so I hadn't got

to worry overly about the misplaced ones.

Past the jetty with nothing and I headed up. The birder girder was passed and I headed for the Ness...I say passed but only just! There was a banging on the offsore

rod and the orange minnow was in. I paddled out from the rocks to avouid being killed before breakfast and began the fight...beauty, a three pounder came into the boat. Happy days!



I continued on most of the way up to the ness, past the spot I had the double (it often produces here) and then turned. I wa snow against the tide and more hopeful

though the water was very dirty, maybe six inches visibility at most and it was pretty rough. I rounded the jetty without anything and got all the way to the iron

work. Slow down, clear the weed, have a look to see if anyone's exiting, keep close and...bang!

Here we go, lovely job. A favourite spot this and once again I was in with a feisty four punder that refused point blank to be grabbed, diving every time and pulingt

he xtraflexx tip straight down. Poorly hooked too, I wasn't sure I'd land it...I did though, only for it to promptly slither back out again...fingers under that gill

plate without slicing myself and it was in again. Hurrah! That would suffice, I made my way back, ambling along and smiling and texting a photo to James telling him to

wake up. Back to the beach, car brought around, back home and start getting things together for a fried breakfast for four. It was now around 730.



Flo came down. Now I avoid going out fishing on the weekends usually, it's not worth the aggro. She took one look at me in my underfleece and demanded to know where I

was going.

"Nowhere. I've been"

And there in the sink lay a decent brace of bass.

"Coffee?"





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Postscript. I called Brian up to see if he was catching yet, about half-nine I guess. he wasn't going until two though but told me he'd got something for me and would

be down at the boat at half eleven. So I duly wandered down witht he girls and my can and there, overnighting in a crayfish trap, was a new pet; a six inch dogfish to

join the shanny and assorted other critters in my tank! Marvellous stuff and the kids were in love instantly. Then...did we want a ride? He was just going to check his

pots with Andreew, it'd take about an hour and knowing the kids would love it we jumped aboard. It was such a glorious morning to be doing something like this and

seeing the multitude of brown and shore crabs, shrimps, prawns and lobsters made their day, as did releasing all but two of the brown crabs and the prawns that would

come home to join the tank inhabitants.