I woke up knowing that I had to get out and tire myself on the water today as I’d need to be going to bed before my last run of three shifts before a fortnight off. The trouble was I didn’t really fancy anything in particular. My plan earlier in the week had been to go for a bass today as that was another point that needed to be crossed off but I’d had one yesterday by accident. I didn’t feel like sitting for smuts again and the river didn’t appeal in the slightest. Troll Jackaman’s and north? No, low tide, it’d be too shallow. Wreck of the Swan? That’d look good with low water, plenty of structure about…no, I want to bait fish it as well there and I have none. Outfall? Could do, should be clear by now…oh, Marty said he’d had some mackerel out that way at the weekend…Yarmouth it is then. Besides, a year tomorrow I’d had a brace there:
Right, yeah. That’s the plan. Launch at the usual spot but instead of running south to the mark and fishing that straight away I’d head out towards Scroby and do some feathering in the deeper water, try to get me a mackerel or six. I have a recipe in mind and need some fresh bait for rays. I could drift north with the last of the ebb, jig the clearer water on slack then use the flood to come back to the outfall and outer harbour. Good plan. I pulled up and unloaded.
Not much wind, smooth sea, clear water, I headed straight out. I called up Marty to find out where the mackerel where…yep, I have a plotter with me. Yep, can see those buoys. Yep, sorted, cheers! I stopped short of the banks, watching fry jumping at the surface and terns diving. Promising.
I stuck a pack of Sea Silvers on the one rod, Hokkai Pink Tails on the other. My two pirks and all my leads were at home, this was a problem, so I rooted around and stuck a selection of wedges and tobies on to try and get them down but it wasn’t really enough. Still, I tried.
I jigged and drifted and looked around and called up the coastguard as I figured it was busy here and if I was just drifting I may get called in…I went from 1.2knots down to zero within an hour. It was funny at one point, a windfarm cat was on its way in and on course towards me so I paddled out of the way and wondered…it passed and I waved, then my mobile started ringing… “Course it’s me…no, haven’t found any but they should be here…no, haven’t got my sounder onboard…yep, I’ll let you know.” That was after I’d seen the porpoise.
I was quite a way out now, in around 75ft of water but still inside of the windfarm. I was somewhere in the Hemsby / Caister area, drifting in the Yarmouth Roads which requires a look out and changes of course to be made if needed as it is busy and we’re not highly visible and frankly there’s no need to get in the way.
Even the lifeboats were out, I figured they weren’t coming for me, my earlier call to Humber CG had averted that I hoped and sure enough they passed me by.
I ended up pretty much in line with the Coastwatch tower over a 60ft pinnacle when the tide started to flow the other way. I may as well head back then I figured, try and sneak a bass from the outfall or harbour wall before the water coloured up and I needed to head home. 2.2 miles to the launch, 4.9 knots on the plotter.
It didn’t take too long but the water was colouring visibly and with half a mile to go I knew I wasn’t going to be in time for my primary target. Sure enough it was pretty coloured and a lot of broken water was eveident where it was hitting the pipe and rearing up; ebb tide to slack then, mental note.
I headed for the wall.
I started paddling and then had a thought…my Eco Narrow had proved very productive on the perch, had taken pike, could I tempt a bass on it too? Could I have found a monopoliser? That it had proven itself a banker on the river was unquestioned, but would it translate? I popped it on and carried on trolling. Marty called up soon after, just after I’d turned at the dogleg and come out of the rip on my way back down.
“Nope, no mackerel, now trying for bass but nothing yet. Might have a blank”
He enquired what I was doing and then got back to his lunch. I paddled a few more strokes and then spotted my rod reacting to the thrashing of a bass…yep, THAT lure! Serendipity I think I shall call her, not that I’m in the habit of naming lures you understand, I’m not that crazy and have never done it before but that’s no reason not to start is it? Granted, at 36cm it wasn’t a monster but it wasn’t a blank or a wasted trip either!
Good, I could go home now without my tail between my legs…after another run up and down and another pass of the outfall…
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