The last of my shifts, a bright and clear morning, no wind, a beautiful sunrise seen from the office on the cliffs…a meeting with my supervisor and suddenly I’m no longer sleepy. Shaun sends a text, he’s off to Links Road fishing so what the hell, I decide I’ll join him. I trundle off home, pour myself a nice full-caffeine coke to wake up and slake more thirst than the coffee would, start getting things together and another text…
“Thick Fog” and one of those smiley faces that is unsmiley and crying.
Hmm. Options. I can’t sleep now, can I. Think think think…daytime, fog, mid-week there’ll be a few boats about. Not many but the windfarm cats will be around and Links Rd does see a few craft come through. Same with Tramps. Hopton might as well…troll the harbour wall? The Outfall? I know Colin’s working up on Scroby so I give him a call; “Thick as guts here”. Then it occurs to me. The White Swan lies just off the beach at Gorleston, the water is clear, the wind is low, the tide is dropping, perhaps some bass would enjoy snapping at lures and some small stuff would take something off baited feathers? Evene better it’s on all the charts and buoyed as well and close enough inshore to not be on a route. That’s our safest bet plus the pot buoys can be clipped onto and released quicker than anchors…
I meet Shaun up on the clifftop after he’s nipped off home to get some wedges. We’ve chatted briefly at Links Road while awaiting Mike who I can’t raise on the phone but who had hoped to join us. Unloaded, we trundle down the track and onto the beach. Dedicated holidaymakers are fog-bathing…we look out at the wreck, the posts at the stern are showing.
Out we go, clip- off to the buoys and set to work. I’m flicking wedges and tobies at the body of the ship, mostly around the boiler. Small rings of squid on some feathers and I sit there over the debris field awaiting fine things.
I lose the first set of gear. Then a wedge. Snaggy place this. Shaun snags up too. At least we’re in the right area – if you’re not losing gear you’re not amongst the fish. It’s a very fine line.
We spend a couple of hours there for nothing, no bites, no follows, no takes, no fish just lost gear. I should have gone to bed after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment