Having got released after a week of doing nothing on Jury service (straight after Runswick) at the cost of 1/3 or my months shifts (and pay) for minimal recompense from the court I was suddenly stuck. I had to go back to work but wouldn't finish until the Friday morning. This meant that I was now skinted and unable to pre-fish the bay. With the event planned as soon as it was announced I was gutted. However, I got a request to do some video stuff up there if I was going and with the promise of the free barbecue on the Saturday night, a huge prize table and a couple of small Premium Bonds coming through I reckoned I could justify dipping into the savings, especially as Shaun was still home and very willing to do the driving and split the costs as he fancied the weekend too. That was decided then!
We'd managed a bass on the Wednesday but things at home weren't looking all that great so Thursday saw us messing around with very light gear at Lake Lothing, from the shore, hoping for mullet and trying to identify a shoal that keeps feeding right at the water's edge in inches of water. I'd had some small smelt in my kiddies net - and a stickleback - so we went armed with some isome worm and had a play.
It was hard to get them, both of us missing our first bite and getting no more for ages. Twitching worked if you could land on the fish and finally one took the size 16...so they were bass then! I managed two and finally Shaun got his. We spotted some small mullet to but they were having none of it. Back home, sort gear out and get ready for the off!
I finished work, headed home and got a couple of hour’s kip. I was very nice to my wife, who had the day off which meant I could leave the house without worrying too much. Nice! Shaun arrived, we filled the van with fishing and camping gear and loaded the MidWay onto the roof as Ian had picked up the Tempo for Johnnie's brother to use as I didn't think I was going. So...I'd have no electronics. No matter, it was going to be good fun anyway; I wasn't too expectant as I'd only managed one species when I went five years ago.
Off we went, the first tractor hold-up within ten miles. We should have gone Diss-Bury-Duxford-Royston but took a punt on Norwich - Thetford only to find a road closure and then a jam on the alternative route. This put us in traffic at London too and the 7 hour drive ended up as 9 and we pulled in after a quick Chinese in a very scary Port Talbot at around 10:30 at night. That was the first nourishment since Cambridgeshire where we'd managed a quick thickshake and cheeseburger, the jelly babies having not made it out of Suffolk! It was a sweltering day and we roasted all the way to the £12:80 fine for using the Severn bridge; what a bore. We were tired and people were drifting off to bed so it was a short meet and greet before I jumped into Steve's spare tent (thanks mate!). Within ten minutes of getting my head down my cold required a nose blow which became a nose bleed of epic precautions following a week of paracetomol. All I had to hand was one of tomorrow's clean socks...
Awake too early I went and mugged someone for coffee and a bacon roll, as you do, before we headed for the queue at the car park. I found one, I found a lucky coin! Into the front hatch it went, it'd be a good day, Shaun was jealous, we weren't too far from the front and once the fella arrived we were in and unloading, grabbing sabikis and hokkais and lures and wedges and rods and reels and leads and shads and sandeels and rigs and and and. Then it was off to the tent to register before picking up the bait; mud rag and king rag.
Down on the beach at the start with Shaun, Martin, Mark, Jeff, Steve and Amos, an interloping Cuda and Scupper amongst the Tempos, Abaco and MidWay! Around us the beach filled up and then it was time for the briefing before an unhurried launch to get out and put the rigs on ready for fishing. I put my lucky pink/silver Warbird Minnow 12 on one rod as I planned a quick troll up the rocks first of all in the hope of bass and pollack and a size 6 sabiki rig on the other ready to drop down here and there.
In terms of gear I decided to fish light with a matched pair. My brand new Fladen Maxximus Nano Plus 7-25g 7ft spinning rods would give me power where needed and sensitivity for the smaller stuff. The 6bb Maxximus LP Magnet baitcasters and 40lb braid would supply the strength for cranking and would hold enough line while being low profile. The balance of these two is perfect and my favourite set up for summer use.
I found some sub-surface rocks and had a go down the side of them hoping to scratch something out. Nothing. I tried trolling, nothing. I tried getting tight into the little bays on the rocks; nothing. I got up near the point and decided to head deeper. Dave was there on his hobie and had caught two species so I dropped down...five minutes and first fish in the bag, a pollack! I unhooked it and went to take a photo - the camera strap was twisted around something and then while I waited for it to turn on my little yellow buddy decided to leap about and make a dash for freedom...an hour had passed and I'd lost a point like a fool, I could have cried!
This is what should have could have would have been:
I tried for pollack again for a while, drifting around near the deeper rocks but no joy. It was time for a move and a change of tactics. Out towards the centre but in the deeper water. There was a bit of tide here, could I get a gurnard? Hound ray or dog? Sabikis drifted down on a 4oz lead to the bottom on the left hand rod, a wishbone pinned down on the other with half a king rag and a squid head on one hook, half a king and a peeler on the other...I waited.
Tim and Pete turned up in a canoe with Pete filming and taking photos while Tim paddled and held station. They'd just moved off when I called them back, fish on! Point one came with a dogfish photographed and returned. I was off my marks! I showed them how I was fishing and baited up, cast the rod, badly, and the lead plopped down 2ft off the bow. It'll at least look like accurate casting on cue for the camera I'm sure but I thought I had almost killed him!
Then the Raymarine Hobie paddled up for a chat, told me there was a shoal of fish around me and as he said that my sabiki rod started bucking; Mackerel, full string of four! Job's a good 'un. Two points and fresh bait, down went a fillet for bass/tope/ray/whatever might take a shine to it but nothing did. Time was getting on; I decided to try a couple more drifts and then head for the wreck. I managed another mackerel before going, on a mud-rag baited sabiki.
Out on the wreck there was a cluster and a half but it was fishing well. I pulled up behind fellow RTM team member, AKA boy and Team M (me he and Mark for the day) Martin and started to fish. He was catching plenty and I was straight into point three, a pouting on mud rag and sabikis.
Point four in minutes, poor cod and very brightly coloured too!
Made me realise that I had them last year in the species hunt most legs…oops!
Martin moved off with Mark after the fella in front, hauling bream and pollack, had left and we'd failed to connect with them. I couldn't catch a fish for love nor money and was getting few bites but enjoying the spectacle of Lozz trying so so hard to get an inch-long fish on what were probably 16/0 sabikis! He may not like or understand targeting stuff that doesn't bend an 80lb class et-up to the butt but I think he was enjoying himself really. It's just a different challenge! The determination was hilarious: "That little ****** I’ll ****** have you you *******. He's pinched my ******* bait again the *******" was the kind of conversation I was enjoying for half an hour!
I decided that enough was enough, I wasn't catching, I'd pull up and try another bit of the wreck. I span myself, started to pull in and found the anchor was stuck fast. I decided to stay, locked off the anchor at the front six feet from where I'd been and dropped down. Straight in to poor cod after poor cod! It was so precise that I would put the line down, wait until it shifted about 2ft and then it'd go. Same on the other rod so I pulled one up, stuck on a string of 8 sabikis and fished one rod only for a while. These are too long though and a second disaster occurred when I had to fiddle to get a bream aboard; it dropped off. I cried again. Back to four and four. No more bream, still no Pollack though both were jumping onto hooks around me - and I'm talking feet away. Steve was into dragonets or pogge, which I would have loved but then my left rod rattled with the first wrasse, a corkwing. Yes! Number five.
Same rod, next drop, first ever rock goby! Six!
Five minutes and in comes my first ever Tompot Blenny, one of three...seven! And beautiful too, I could have had a lovely selection in my aquarium had I been closer.
Terry pitched up, he'd stopped fishing for a while to enjoy playing in the overfalls by the point, having a blast as he was off the usual freshwater. He was grinning!
Unlike some others who'd ventured too close and got sucked in. In fact, one of them was the guy on my Tempo...
"Snapper this is Valleybuoy, we've just rescued your kayak"
"Ain't me mate, leant it to a mate for his brother to use"
"We've got him he's okay"
"I don't care, he'll float, is my kayak okay?"
Cue an eruption of laughter around me! It was light-hearted, I knew he'd already been sorted out and was paddling in. Got to have the occasional funny transmission in a comp!
Gareth was with Terry, good to see him again and as we nattered I continued on the (numerous, constant) poor cod, tompots and wrasse with John the other side unable to scratch out a poor cod. Then came number eight, the first ballan! Brilliant!
Lozz returned, he'd been playing with the big hounds. Martin came back, said he was also on eight, John reckoned he was on that too, I was the only one telling the truth and they thought I was lying so told their own lies!
This is part and parcel of comps apparently but it was to have serious ramifications...with half an hour or so to go Martin decided to head in. He was 300 yards away by the time I'd sliced through my anchor warp and was chasing him to the beach!
I get close, there's Pete filming my landing...my nose hits the beach, I've gained on Martin but he's still got a couple of hundred yards head start...Pete opens his mouth:
"No time to talk, I've a competition to win!"
...and I'm legging it up the beach, across the sand, in boots, bib and brace, pfd and an empty belly, a screaming headache, dehydrated after someone ten years younger. I never could run either...I can see him smiling too! Behind me people are shouting encouragement, insults, laughing and I'm wasting oxygen shouting back and then I see Pete running behind me still filming; I'd better stop swearing then! I flag as I get to the top of the beach, start walking quick, he is too. He thinks he's lost me, I start to run again at the top and he runs too, I make it in behind me. "I thought you were lying, I'm on ten!" If I could breathe at that point I might have decked him!
Checking in, I'm placed well by the look of things, how well time will tell; I'm currently fourth, could have been should have been 2nd after the marathon man pipping me to the post (though i'd have left before that). Registered, we headed back to the beach to look for our kayaks and dragged them up the ramp to the cars. I stole water from Amos and returned to the beach. John had made it in with three minutes to spare on 10 or 11, would he take Martin? Yes, they gave him 11. I looked through; I was joint fourth in numbers on 8, seventh on the board after the time factor. Mark was on fifth having got in twenty minutes earlier but result! I'd got the same species count as him which to me, after chasing him all last year and knowing he was the specialist at this, was a real success. Earlier when asked I'd said I wanted seven, to hold my own and I'd managed to beat that too and also get on the prize table to boot so my weekend in terms of the competition was justified.
Well, Prize giving. Mingling around chatting with all my old mates, some met for the first time but known online, some new and the team from Palm and then it was into the prizes. Wooden spoon for a local (no idea why) …
…then 11th, 10th, ninth, 8th, Snapper...a Werner Tybee from System X (thank you very much gentlemen) handed over by Ed with a word of thanks as well as he knew how close I'd come to not being there…
...6th Keith, 5th Mark, 4th Tim Morgan, the first of the nine species, 3rd Cyril Cross, then Martin as runner up, holding up the AKA banner…
…to John on his eleven species, his poor cod coming after I left and right at the end, worth the gamble! Not convinced he wanted to win when he chucked his trophy at the ground!
Then onto the teams...stuck for a name I'd put 'M' on the sheet, our shared first initial. Somehow - and I deny any responsibility - this got written on the board as Team RTM, much to Mark's panicked dismay, being a Jackson boy! I figured it was Jeff, Amos and Shaun so hadn't twigged. I'm not certain but I think all three teams had the same points (it was combined species count rather than totals each added) with it decided again on time. Team OK came third, we were second - twenty quid apiece - and I’ve forgotten the name of the first placed team, sorry!
The Anglian boys had held their ground across the country!
Great stuff, now back to the campsite, the camera left to one side for tomorrow's fishing.
Out comes the San Miguel. Martin's off to the shower. Shaun looks at me, looks at him and says "What?" "I'm going for a shower" says Martin. Shaun looks again at me, his lower face red, the rest, covered with shades and hat being white, and, still confused, asks what he'd said. "He's from Essex". Shaun, satisfied, hands me another beer and we go for a mingle. Johnnie’s tent, my kayak is fine. His brother has dried out too. I ponce some cheesy biscuity nibbles then remember that Andy and Nick have invited me for cheese and wine...we make our excuses and leave. There they are, brie, dolcelatte and caerphilly, crackers, estrella (I don't do wine) grapes, olives and feta..."Tuck in, we aren't taking it back". Shaun's from Gorleston, he's almost as confused with Devon camping habits as he is with the Essex ones, but we tuck in all the same and while he turns his back I pounce on the dolcellate (he loves blue cheese) and eat the lot. The brie and caerphilly disappears rapidly too and then we're done. Like a smoothound pack on a crabby bank we empty the area and move on; we can smell that the barbecue is about ready and go a-grazing on absolutely top notch beef burgers followed by amazing pork burgers all washed down with more San Miguels. I was falling asleep, my night-shift timezone rebelling and forced myself to stay on my feet for the raffle by eating more pork burgers - no thanks, I don't want a roll thanks, that's carbs and they’re fattening, I'm Snapper and if you don't have to kill it you probably shouldn't eat it! Scalded fingers are a small price to pay for the body I had at twenty having kicked middle age spread into touch a couple of years back. I wish I'd not waited for the raffle though, my lucky coin had run out of power. I went to bed, leaving Shaun with the keg of ale in the tent!
A huge thank you to Ed and all the SWKA team for organising the best event I've been to, it really was great and I'm a definite for next year! Also a huge thanks to Palm, Escape, System X and all the other sponsors of the event and barbecue, it really was a fantastic input from you all.
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