I had an inkling there might be some smoothies around by now, they’re due back after all. I had the day free after the car boot sale as my wife and kids were off with friends for the afternoon so it just seemed like a good idea to go for a few hours after lunch; if I went before I’d have to go right away and I just couldn’t be bothered.
The wind was light and the sea pretty flat when I rocked up to the beach. I’d picked Tramps Alley as the launch site as there was plenty of rough ground there and it’d produced the goods before. Going solo in the sunshine I took my time and ambled down to the shoreline, got set up and launched into a smooth bit of water, hit the Goto button on the plotter and headed across and up the tide.
Slow going this; building to mid-tide and a bloody great spring made progress slow but it wasn’t far and I dropped down over a previous mark, let out plenty of warp and waited for the yak to settle. The water was screaming through at three knots so heavy leads went on with whole squid on one rod, a 4/0 pennel on a running leger and a 3ft snood and a 4/0 wishbone with black lug tipped with squid on the one hook, mackerel fillet tipped with squid on the other; cod and thornback being the target for this rod.
Five minutes in and the first bite came. A nice plump whiting had jumped on and was welcome as I’ve eaten all the ones in the freezer. A fair start seeing as how the tide was pumping and I figured it as too quick for much luck right now, certainly for any of the species I was hoping for. Bites were few and far between but the sun was out and I had all afternoon. Another keeper and a few that weren’t worth filleting and then I got snagged on the rough ground.
I pulled and pulled but it wasn’t coming out. Letting out some slack I got hold of the line and tried pulling by hand; nothing. I wrapped it around my priest and started with that and just pulled the yak closer; stuck solid I was and I pulled anchor instead, finally breaking out the trace with one snapped snood as the yak drifted past. No matter, I could reset the anchor easily enough and as I was still moving I figured on a snapped weak link. I fished them out and started to haul…
I didn’t get far. The carabiner came to midships just as the anchor jammed into something and I stopped dead in the water. One word, FUCK!, sprang to mind as the yak tilted alarmingly onto an edge and I flung myself the other way to counter balance; I was very, very close to flipping and was now beam on with water bubbling past…still leaning way I grabbed the trolley and tried to shuttle forward to no avail, the pressure on the line was too much and the buoy and carabiner were a good 6ft out from the side; that’s more stretch than I had built in! That’s when I heard the crack as the stern bungee snapped and I swung nose-on to the tide. Well that’s alright then.
I hate uptiding. By the time the lead hits the bottom in this tide I’m downtiding backwards and miss every bite that comes along. I can’t strike the bloody things properly and after quarter of an hour of this I’d had enough. Simple really, paddle up to the buoy, unclip from the remains of the anchor trolley and clip up to the port-side trolley, shuttle it back and sit downtide like normal. I checked that all leashes and clips were clear, checked the trolley ran smoothly and paddle up to the buoy, disconnecting and swapping sides. There was that word again as the pressure jammed the trolley and I was side-on again and damned near went over a second time. This was starting to get silly now. Nothing was moving and I had two choices. Dick around and hope I could free it before I went over or just cut the trolley off. With one rod over the side (and hanging by the leash) from water flowing into the flush mount and floating it out it was a no-brainer and the knife came out. Ping! And I was floating free. Quickly. Paddle out and up to the buoy I went, reattaching to the loose starboard trolley again. Uptiding it is then.
There’s been some sort of maritime festival on at Great Yarmouth this weekend. I’d not been and wasn’t even aware of it but had a treat to enjoy because of it. Many, many years ago as a seven year old I once saw an MTB motor under Haddiscoe bridge and since then have often seen it at its berth in Lake Lothing, only once seeing her under power in the harbour. She looks and sounds lovely; the prototype MTB, built by Vosper seventy-odd years ago. Dunkirk, Normandy, Churchill, Eisenhower, The Eagle Has Landed…MTB 102 has an illustrious history and seeing her shoot by a couple of hundred yards offshore from me in her own element finally was a real treat. Better than catching fish.
I stayed a couple of hours more, fishing through to the slack and managing to connect to the occasional fish but with most of them being small it wasn’t anything exciting and at slack I went up to the buoy and started to haul anchor, having to rely on the front cleat only to keep me relatively nose-on. Ten whiting, four keepers and a reel to flush out not to mention a new bit of bungee on one side and a new bit of cord on the other…could have been worse I suppose.
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