Well a week ago I was basking in a six pound bass on a hard weekend and then got brought down with a thump by fishing really badly on a boat, a whiting and a flounder against the nine bass, decent cod and thornback landed by a proper angler. I followed with an estuary blank (recce) and a solitary shanny from the sea before ending my week’s fishing with a single pin whiting where we should have had a red letter day. I wasn’t despondent as that’s how fishing goes sometimes but the weekend with the family and three shifts I had to work were a good excuse to not go out…
Yes, weekend with the kids. A very full day culminating in a couple of hours at the beach with friends and a chilled San Miguel before a pre-shift sleep. The relevance to this is that I have never, ever seen the water here so clear. This was south coast water, not east coast soup. I really didn’t have any choice whatsoever, I was staying close after work.
I knocked off at half eight, my mind made up on a bass trolling session followed by testing the water for mackerel. A silly option as it’s a bit early here and I’ve not heard of them being caught here close in, they just can’t see the feathers. But it looks as though this year might see a change in that if this water stays clear. I’d start on the troll though, my Tempo loaded with just a handful of lures, two Xtraflexx 10-30g rods and the attendant Maxixmus baitcasters. And a paddle. And me. A beautiful hot day that required no more than my Ion Bib and buoyancy aid – no boiling in the bag for me! But first – sleep. Two hours I set my alarm for; I was up in an hour having slept half that. Enough milk for one coffee…Mike was going to Yarmouth, James was asleep after his shift, Andrew was sorting something out for someone, Si had stuff to do…solo! I got rigged and walked down to the beach.
Very clear water, even better than yesterday. A bit of wind, more than expected. Loads of people on the beach, a pre-school group by the look of it. Trolley away, on top of the lucky penny I’d found on the road as I came down and threw into the hull (lucky coin should go into any boat, a found penny is the best I reckon).I switched on the bow camera – bad news, I’d taken the memory card out. Oh. Still, I’d not get anything different to normal probably so I didn’t go home for it. I launched, paddled out, cast and headed for the rocks.
Nothing there. I ran up the wall; nothing there. I crossed the harbour mouth, ran up the side (had luck here before) and around the jetty; nothing there. Then up to the jetty on the point; halfway and the rod starts to buck, that pink and silver Fladen Warbird Minnow 12 doing the business yet again (top lure this season so far). A quickish fight in a choppy sea and in came a schoolie.
I carried on, rounded the point, ran up tight to the rocks or as tight as I could go in the waves rolling in. Halfway up to the turning point and the inside rod slammed down. HARD. I grabbed it, felt a good fish on the end, drifted in and returned it to the holder as it thrashed at the surface and ran for the rocks; paddled out a bit further to get breathing space and grabbed the rod again. This was solid! Solid but bucking, it had made it into the rocks partially and was trying to throw the lure; I needed some drag but couldn’t lighten it now as my ahnds were full. It pulled me inshore and the waves helped; rod high, paddled with my left hand, turn and push out and then fight the fish some more, skull-drag it away from the rocks and it’s comings, slowly and thrashing. Really putting up a fight and a half, this is one fit fish that’s feeding in the fastest stretch here…it comes closer and in this clear water I saw it for what it is. A double. My second double figure bass, looks bigger than the first and this one is on a lure, my favourite way to catch bass and it’s just me, tackle and fish with no heavy lead for the fish to fight. Marvellous!
It gets closer, the hooks look firm but I can’t relax, this has to be fought and fought well, fought properly, fought to a standstill so I can get her close and grab her; I don’t use a net, if the fish can’t be hand-landed I don’t deserve it as much as it deserves its freedom. Sure, I’ve lost good fish like this in the past but there you go. She’s a wide old girl though, huge set of shoulders on her…I can’t get her like that but she turns anyway…tail root? Too slippery, I try twice. The lure is in the mouth, can’t go there. Tough, pike style – hands go straight into the gill slit, all four fingers and I lift her in, great weight to her, cracking fish! There’s a bloke on the harbour wall, goggle-eyed!
She’s going in the tankwell under the net but I’m making sure she’s secure – the only option is to take my paddle leash off, thread it through gills and mouth as a stringer and clip it on to the kayak; that done I lift her into the tankwell and she takes up the full length and half the width. This is a BIG fish. Then I notice that during unhooking I’ve ripped the underside treble off and badly damaged the already-rusted split ring. I change lures.
The change alters things. I’m half thinking I should go home now, got what I want but sport is good and this water is a rarity so has to be taken advantage of. I’ve hit the shallows now and the lures aren’t working right; I get to my end point and turn, getting all the way back to the harbour without a touch and change back to the Minnow 12, the treble swapped over from another lure. I head across and around the bend; fish on! I’m not so desperate for fish now so I play and take photos.
In it comes, a 4lb’er. Speaking of photo I want some crackers of this special bass so I’ve called up Jules. My old buddy Jules with whom I travelled around Egypt snapping stuff and drinking Carlsberg ‘Luke Warm in Alex’ is currently having lunch before heading back into his studio. No, I tell him, you’re coming down the beach to take photos. Payback for me doing his wedding photos the other week! Bless him, he eats up, jumps on his bike and rides to town. I carry on.
Bang, Kiddies corner and it’s fish on again, another 4lb’er with a buddy swimming next to it. Beaten I grab the leader and start pulling it a bit too hard to the yak, the hookhold isn’t great and the trebles have been hammered on rocks and fish and are bent out a bit; fish off. I’m not too worried, I’m fishing for the sport now. Then Si calls up…
“It’s great out here, you should have come”
“I know, I’m twenty metres away”
He’s on the pier with Emma. He asks how I’m getting on and I lift the biggie up…he doesn’t speak for a moment…
I head back up the wall, have another decent take and drop it then back down and back up again and another, sixth and final hit on the Minnow 12. I drop it again. Jules has arrived and I head in, reluctantly!
I land, give a fish to Si for his tea and one to Jules for his – he first ate fish only a few weeks back – and we set to work, me posing and Jules doing what he does best. Time to go overboard with the photos…
I dwarf the 4lb’er with it too…
I head home, fill the sink with one fish that impresses the girls and not my wife and then it’s back to normality and running the girls to after school clubs. I’ve given away my dinner and dropped the biggie around Paul’s until the weekend because it won’t go in my freezer. I decide to treat myself to a special fish dish to celebrate, my Swanage plaice, gently panned….
Marvellous. Mackerel tomorrow instead then perhaps.
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