It’s been so damned cold and so damned windy this month that the temptation to take the kayak off the roof hasn’t been all that strong. By which I mean almost non-existent! So as I’d seen from his facebook page (you’ve got to love social networking) that Colin was taking Lead Us to sea with only one other angler aboard it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss, especially with decent catches of cod over the previous 3 days and a forecast of fine weather. Besides, the lure of fishing with coffee, dry hands and minimum effort at this time of year is not something to be sniffed at and I had nights off either side of the trip so all was good.
Even better, I was on Colin’s route from fetching lugworms to the dock so I didn’t even have to drive! And so, just before 8:30, Colin turned up and I had my first ride in a proper Land Rover since army days a long time ago and I didn’t have to sit in the back this time! Funnily enough it was the first time we’d met in person, every other time we’d spoken it’d been by phone, radio, internet or on the sea!
We pulled up near the moorings on Lake Lothing in an area I’d only been to by water and the boat got loaded and started up. Doug turned up soon after and we backed out into the water for the cruise up to the harbour mouth.
It’s a nice boat trip in itself with plenty to see from the Excelsior, the wreck of the Yellowtail, a Lightship and a landing craft amongst others, not to mention the old shipyards and Asda…but the tide was higher than predicted so we had to hope we’d get under the bridge. I took my hat off and ducked!
The sun was shining, the sea looked pretty flat and a helicopter was just taking off as we went through the pier heads and headed north to fish Colin’s usual spot off Corton. Past the rocks that hold the bass in summer, past the broken concrete on the south denes, past the car park where the dogging occurs, past the beach anglers at Tramps Alley, all places I’m familiar with on the kayak but passing by quicker and with no effort on my part! It had taken me an hour the last time I’d paddled all this way a few weeks previously on the day the world didn’t end and as we steamed north Dough and I busied ourselves with rods and reels and traces and beads and hooks and all the other toys that grown men play with, interspersed with plenty of filming of the trip on my compact.
We arrived at the mark and Colin dropped down the anchor; he’s got a bigger one than me! It would have sunk my stern if placed in the tankwell on its own without the good few metres of chain. No dragging for us today. Down came the gantry, the anchor ball was attached and the whole lot hoisted again and then it was time to get busy. Out came the worm – good ones too, from the new place on the High Street, and with a worm or two on a 4/0 tipped with a ring of squid the baits went over the side. Large baits weren’t the order of the day as the bites had been finicky of late and larger baits, though attracting the fish, were causing them to drop off mid-water. I ignore good advice at my peril and being at peril on the sea is not my intention.
I started off with a spreader wishbone. I only fished the one rod and this was the first outing for my new setup. A Fladen Maxximus IM7 12lb boat rod allied with a Fladen Warbird 3700R loaded with 30lb braid and a 20lb fluorocarbon leader, both Fladen, looks a good, balanced bit of tackle but how would it perform? Probably better if I hadn’t left the clicker on to cast, had released the spool properly and adjust the spool to freeline faster. Shit. Still, I hadn’t overrun so I pretended nothing had happened, set it all up properly and flicked the 9oz weight over the side and let it run downtide. With a couple of hours left of the flood everything ran out nicely and I re-engaged the spool and set the rod against the holder.
Doug was in first and hauled in a nice, plump whiting. Full of roe they are and in good health, certainly better whiting than I’d seen over the last few weeks. Colin was next:
I was last to get one though but come it did and this first taste of my new reel was good. The big power handle was a delight, good grip and rotating smoothly as I turned the handle. The spool turned like silk too and it all felt nice and light on the way up against the flow. Now, I don’t know if it was the difference in rod or the thinner braid than normal or whether it was because I was standing instead of sitting or because the reel is of different gearing or has better bearings or what but there certainly seemed to be half the effort required than I’ve been used to with my old gear. Frankly it was delightful but the jury can’t really be said to be in the room until I’m sat in my usual space, 6 inches from the water astride my yak! No, so far so good…oh, I forgot. Where I’d cut my line earlier to stick the rod in the landy and wound it onto the reel the thin flouro had gone under the side of the spool and I’d had to cut off the damaged length. Something to watch for in future but a result of my laziness.
Well, a steady stream of whiting came aboard and my first cod bite dropped off mid-way up. Another cod dropped off as well and then the boat started to turn in the wind that was starting to build. I snagged up once, gave slack and then lifted it out and put my rod to one side and had a cuppa while waiting for the flow to reverse. No cod boated on the flood, hopefully on the ebb…White Cheetah was just offshore of us and they were in the same position.
I’ve always thought Lead Us was a nice looking vessel when it’s gone past. I like the old wooden hull and the upturned bow, it looks like a boat should to me. The Coble is a northeast design and has some of the heritage of the Viking longboats. It also has a shallow draught and is relatively flat bottomed. Now, this upturning fore and aft, what we’d call rocker on a kayak, allied with the draught and flat bottom explained a lot. They’re designed for launching and landing off beaches and therefore performing in the surfzone as well as out at sea…and out at sea they ride in a very comfortable manner. What struck me was how very similar it was to just an oversized kayak in this respect. Less of the pitch and roll I’ve usually experienced and more of a riding of the swells, very comfortable and very natural without the usual over-compensating to balance when walking around.
Well, the tide started to flow the other way and I was straight into more whiting. A porpoise surfaced near the stern and twice more as it headed north. Lovely to see and the first I‘d seen in a while. Maybe he’d eaten our cod though, the bugger. I jest; if he had, good luck to him. More whiting and a couple more dropped cod and then it started to tail off mid-flow, and all the while that wind was building and the sea was picking up, wind over tide. White Cheetah had moved inshore at the turn and had managed to land one codling but then decided to head for home. We gave it another half an hour as much to get an update on conditions on the way back as anything else.
Four feet off Ness Point…okay…then we heard the harbour mouth was horrible…okay. Time to go. None of this shuttling anchor warps to the bow and swing around to face it, just taps out, haul that big-ass Bruce off the bottom and up to the buoy and then haul it off the surface and into a bucket. I could get used to that, especially with someone else doing the work. Then it was bow into the swell and off we went, heading inshore first for the lighter flow as we headed back south to the harbour. Colin warned us it’d be a wet ride and that we were welcome in the wheelhouse but I had filming to do and I missing having salt in my eyebrows so I stayed on deck and let the spray, and more at times, wash over me. There’s something invigorating about bucketfuls of January North Sea hitting your face!
It took us a fair bit longer to return than to head out but what a ride! No slamming into waves or troughs and the rolling just felt smooth and, yes, kayak-like, even when the swells came beam-on. It was, to be fair, a shitty sea for a time but not once did I feel I ought to go in. I was enjoying myself too much for that! Then I saw the harbour entrance.
Now I’ve stopped paddling through there over the last couple of years. Unless it’s flat calm that bit of water sucks. Get a big southerly on an ebb and it not only sucks, it’s like the child of a Kirby and a Vax, with some DNA from a Dyson that means it doesn’t lose any suction. We weren’t that far of a south easterly and that’s the worst and with the wind a good force 6 by now it was going to be a lively entrance (compare the bits of video from a previous entrance, filmed from the pier, and our entrance filmed from the deck!)
Well, in we came, engine roaring and spray coming everywhere, swells rolling under us, waves breaking here and there. It was great. Then we were through and in the flatter water of the harbour and on our way back to the berth, gutting the fish in comfort.
Well, the cod avoided breathing fresh air but the whiting action was plentiful throughout the six hours we had fishing; I had a whale of a time and Doug was certainly happy with his day too, cheers Colin, until next time!
We took the tide out and down to Corton, a comfortable swell, plenty of colour and a bit of flow, things looked promising. Anchor down in the famous secret spot and the Coble swung around, laid off a bit from the wind which was blowing with some strength from the northwest. Cold, but flattening the sea pretty much though there was white on the tops of the water all around. My days of launching the kayak in that for a fishing session are gone though I’d have had a brilliant time with the sail up!
Line sin and…nothing. Funny. It was the ideal time for the whiting. I was amazed it took so long, maybe twenty minutes and then, with a lovely bite up came one of around a pound, plump and kicking all the way into the air next to the boat. Which is as close as it got. More swearing. Then one of the other lads had one. A few more followed before slack water saw the leads bouncing and snagging and the boat on the turn; I pulled up and made a lovely bait up, a whole squid, skinned and with guts and spine inside for scent and shape, a frozen black shoved up inside and the hook passed twice through the mantle to stitch it closed a bit and then a head hooked through the eyes to drop some scent and colour into the water and keep the hook point clear, some guts streaming out the other end from the tentacles. A few jabs with a knife in the side to help the scent leak and it was ready, my favourite cod bait. Now to await the flood to start.
Half an hour or so later I decided it was time to fish again and, fishing braid and with us laying off the wind still I crossed over to the lucky side, casting across the tide and keeping it fairly short and behind the other lines and waited…for the bloody nice bite that followed! Lovely bend in the rod, the smooth running of that Fladen multiplier with the big handle winding in something that didn’t feel like a cod but did, if you know what I mean…it broke surface and bugger me if it wasn’t the biggest whiting I’ve seen! A pound and three quarters, 45cm, as plump as you like and with some marks on the flank where something had had a go at it. Damaged fins too…that was a whiting to have a photo with!
Sod it. It was worthy of three.
Then Colin leapt into action and the first of the cod came aboard…nice fish!
The others started picking up whiting and with the boat laying better I went back to my spot and cast back out again…five more minutes, that same bait and the rod started to buck…get in there my son!!! Cod…what I‘d come for; it was the same length as my whiting and though it looks a lot smaller the fillets aren't dissimilar in size...
...five minutes passed and then one of the others hauled one in, a better fish around the 4-5lb mark…three in fifteen minutes. I had my other rod baited now and in the water and then as the tide started to race through things quietened and then went dead. Wes at there a good couple of hours with nothing much happening, just weed pulling the rods down and jamming against knots and baits and leads…the fish just went right off the feed. The reels and rod just sat there, unmoving...
Finally we started to get a few little taps; I had a reasonable rattle and as the really small leader knot (I’m using 20lb braid so have a 20lb flouro leader on for resistance against the abrasion expected from the rough ground here) cleared the surface I noticed a tenth of the weed I’d hauled in ten minutes before…and on the end, a fish. Then we all started getting them. Whiting mostly but one of the lads then pulled up a codling, another managed a whelk – his multiplier casting had come on from nothing to respectable during the day as he was determined to learn and had people to teach him and picked it up with no bother…for a whelk! You have to laugh sometimes. Soon after, Colin pulled into a another bite and passed the rod over to let the one person still waiting for a cod to have a feel of what they were like; another good 4-5lb fish was soon boated. A cod apiece, can’t ask for better than that on a day like this!
The whiting carried on for a while and then the bites started to get lighter and strikes were coming up empty. I had half a dozen good bites on one rod in five minutes but nothing connected and then it came time to head in, the sun starting to set over Corton, Gunton, Lowestoft…
Our entry was smoother than last week but then we got caught out. The tide was far higher than it should have been, perhaps from those northerlies we’ve been having and we wouldn’t make it under the bridge. There was nothing else for it but to go into Hamilton dock, tie up and sit it out. Well, that may sound like a pain and normally it might be. Personally I was an hour late for bed by now (being on shift at half nine at night) but what an evening to be stuck – huge flocks of starlings wheeled and turned over our heads for twenty minutes of more and I filmed and photographed them from the best position in town. I’d often been glad when the lights turned red on my way home before and I’d seen them but it’s over the water that they play and that was where we sat. Absolutely marvellous.
They stopped and Colin set about gutting; I learnt a new and quicker way. I’m not slow (for an angler) but he took a quarter of the time I do. Granted I gill them too (I learnt in a hotter climate and with fish that required bleeding and weren’t sold with gills in) but still, this was rapid.
That done we hung around another ten minutes and then made our way under the bridge with a foot to spare, in the dark now and motored down past all the moored boats to the space on the dock where Colin ties up. Bit of nifty manoeuvring against a strong wind and we were tied up and we were on our way home, all with a fine dinner in the bag.
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Now I’m not the excitable type really, it takes some adrenaline for me to get going. I was dog-tired and had three hours available to sleep before getting up for work so you’d expect I’d be out like alight really. I wasn’t. I managed about an hour and a half. It’s now nearly half one and the sound of my fingers banging the keyboard are keeping me awake on shift. I’ve got another seven hours to get through as yet. I wouldn’t have it any other way! Thanks again Skipper, very enjoyable session!
