Get Something...12/10/2013

Get Something...12/10/2013 I was somewhat frustrated. All week the water had been big but not forming into rideable waves. I was on shift so had only limited time and the only waves worth getting wet for occurred on the last check of the second day; Steve went out after work and reported it as a crappy mess. Five times I looked that day, five the day before and five the day after. Not impressed. The reason for the waves were of course because the wind was howling and even the kayak on the car roof was weeded out! Too much westerly was the problem. Now the family were home and time was limited. Nothing else for it. I grabbed some brandlings from the compost and headed down to the harbour for an hour after dropping the girls at my parents; they were going out and we were staying in, with friends who'd also disposed of theirs for a while. I took the tetra out, I wanted a goby and a smelt. I already had them for the anglersafloat species hunt but I'd decided to see what I could manage on the world sea fishing monthly hunt so I was back again. The mullet were back again too but I ignored them completely. I go fishing to get rid of stress after all...anyway, I had that hour and paddled out with the spare camera as my main one was missing. Searching out a likely spot I dropped the size 24 down with 2 bb shot and touch-legered it. I could feel the knocks and struck when I was sure it had hold; up came a common goby. That's when I discovered that the camera battery was dead. So I used the phone; hence no more pictures. The smelt were next and they just acted like mullet. I could get them around the bait, attracting them easily enough but only one made a pass at the worm and promptly spat it out. Granted, at 5cm it wasn't going to swallow it whole, hence the tiny baits and hooks, but it could at least have played the game! In the end I just gave up and retreated with my tail between my legs - I had to cook after all. Ha! Bass for four - roasted on a bed of red pepper and cherry plum tomatoes, drizzled with a melted red pepper, parsley and sundried tomato butter and served with sautéed potatoes, the red stuff and almost with the asparagus tips that I stupidly forgot about in the microwave. This followed the last minute 'what the hell starter will I do because I went fishing and forgot to get a bag of mussels'. Just for the sake of completeness I'll mention it; Steve had given me two ducks which were hanging in the conservatory and needed dealing with - now was the time! breasted, breasts filleted, flash fried in a pan of melted butter and 43 orange liqueur served on a bed of pan fried and slightly caramelised orange slices and topped with the chilli and citrus marmalade I'd made that morning. It was even better than the bass! The crowning glory of course was Vienetta - I don't do dessert. Of course we drank a bit too much which is why the 13th wasn't going to be much of a fishing day...

Too Much To Ask…09/10/2013

Too Much To Ask…09/10/2013 The BBC were scaremongering. Waves crashing over piers and stuff like that. Originally we had thought about trying Southwold but changed this to Gorleston to take advantage of the shelter offered by the pier for both wind and tide. I was intending to go light and try for rockling and flounder for the competition while Bruce would anchor a bit further out and bait fish for the usual stuff. So off we went. Now this is a good place to have some fun on a southerly wind and ebbing tide when the water kicks up, rebounds and forms explosive peaks but that wasn’t on the cards today. We pulled in, sorted our gear out and pulled the kayaks down to the water. I was hopeful here, it’s where I first started sea fishing as a teenager with my brother, my mate and his granddad. It’s also the only place I ever caught rockling and though I hated them then I really wanted one now. We launched, it was flat. Quite windy, the breakwater arm offered cover. A few people were fishing off the wall and I managed to catch one while drifting with a lug-baited spoon. I felt a bit guilty especially as I thought I was far enough out to avoid the lines but the fella took it well – if you read this, my apologies again! I tied off to some ladder rungs with my anchor trolley and sat there with a 7bb float lobbed out, a size 12 hook on the end about 5ft down with a piece of fresh lug tipped with a sliver of yesterday’s sandeel. The other rod had a 4 hook flapper with size 4 hooks and plenty of beading with a chrome spoon and trailing size 6 on the bottom. A mix of lug and sandeel went on the hooks and I waited, fingers crossed. Sounds technical but the carp fishing background of Bruce was starting to show...not sure about precisely aligning your baits by degrees but... Bruce started with a troll about and got caught in rips, blown by wind and generally messed about. He wasn’t anchoring after all so came and hooked up to my anchor line as well, lobbing out a bait and waiting. I, meanwhile, snagged my float on the wall and snapped it off. Time to try a lead straight down instead. A great plan, I hooked a velvet swimmer that dropped off next to me once out of the water. No fish though. Bruce got a bite, no fish on it though. I dropped another crab. I rebaited here and there, dropped another crab and eventually went over to pinches of frozen black lugworm. Finally I got some small rattles but nothing transpired. Same for Bruce. We ended up chatting to a drop netter and he gave us some live shrimp to try. That didn’t work either and so, less than three hours after we started, we headed back in on a blank as the wind picked up even more and it threatened rain. Not sure I’ll try there again…

Last Chance Saloon…08/10/2013

Last Chance Saloon…08/10/2013 Yesterday was supposed to be Trimingham but no car meant no way. Bruce was up for driving though and though I had to be on shift later an early start would allow us to have a go. This would likely be my last chance for bass, mackerel, sandeel and weever for the competition as it’s blowing up later in the week and Monday would be the next chance I could head north ; probably too late. An early start then… Nice sunrise when I went out to the car to get some bits. Shepherds warning? I’m a fisherman, meaningless. Bruce picked me up and we headed north. Kept failing to find the track but at least we could see the sea. I hoped he wouldn’t fall as I wasn’t insured to drive his car. Coffee. How hard is it to get coffee? Really hard. We lost twenty minutes searching before finding some half decent stuff in the Mace when we went for cold drinks instead. Result. Losing time was fine, with that tide we didn’t want to drift too far so 930 was the earliest we should really hit the water. Seabreeze was already there, last seen at sea palling when I landed with two bass and he said he’d come down to see if I was about as he was interested in kayak fishing. Steve at Norfolk canoes sorted him out and he’s loving it; just needed to christen his yak with a sea fish having managed pike already. Ian was next and once we were all sorted we launched. Swell rolling in was slamming into and over the sea defences so it was all down to timing, waiting for flat spots; all out okay and out to the deeper, clearer water. Bruce’s luck still bad as a rod tip had snapped overnight. I got out about five hundred yards and dropped down to troll; I was looking for the edge of the bank but may as well try for a ,mackerel on the way. Nothing. Got to my first spot, reeled in and dropped straight down…two minutes? Five? BANGGGGGG! 12lb class bent over nice, pulling, thumping, what? One good one or more smaller ones? Sweet, a couple of minutes and they’re in the boat, a brace in the forties, one on the speed jig, hooked on the assist hook at the top and one on the pink sabiki. Point eight for leg 4… The wind pushed me right off the mark, the tide too. I tried paddling back to it but it was far too much effort, especially with all the marks around. I found one promising lot, Seabreeze fairly close and also paddling. I said there were fish here, dropped down, and a minute later had another bass in the boat. He was impressed! On a pink hokkai. He got one straight after, yak christened! As his first yak sea fish it went back. The water was clear still but that damned wind and tide was pushing us down at over two knots. Not good. Nothing for ages, very few marks. A couple of shoals that passed rapidly under but didn’t take – herring maybe? Wish I still had some sabikis. I wished I had tinsels too but seem to have run out. It must have been an hour before something else came up; bruce had taken mackerel, seabreeze had taken one near me, I couldn’t get one for love or money…but I trolled up a sandeel for point nine. Padlding back up as things eased I bumped into FishieH. Stopped and chatted, stole a seasilver off him for the mackerel. He’d had nothing, was despondent. With my leg on his yak he suddenly hauled in three mackerel. MY THREE MACKEREL. I’d been waiting for them. I didn’t know whether to cry or punch him in the head. I just swore at him for a bit. A couple more sandeels followed, tried liphooking them on the feathers but no joy. No marks further out, a few big marks of shoaling fish here and there on the bottom and at fifteen feet but no, I couldn’t get another thing. I did however swear violently at Seabreeze when he hauled a mackerel in close to me again. I gave up as we started getting pushed past the launch; we should have left by now anyway. Leaving FishieH further along and still heading our way the four of us early birds (he’s travelled a lot further so I only mean relative to the launch time) we landed. I was the only one with no mackerel and Ian had managed a couple of weever too. I don’t like Ian any more. He also had a lovely bass. He’d had sandeel too – he’d had my four targets and I’d had two. Still, for once we decided to take some trophy shots on the beach. My three went 36 (but plump) 42 and 45. Ian’s went 3.5lb and he had a huge mackerel. Bruce had bene plagued by maybe twenty sandeels and had the one mackerel – which he wanted – Seabreeze had returned his 2.5lb bass so just mackerel for the photo. He we are, a good variety. Back home, into bed an hour late and up in time for work with dinner and bait in the fridge to deal with in the morning!

One After Another…07/10/2013

One After Another…07/10/2013 If it wasn’t one thing it was another. No car for MOT then no car for dead alternator. Looked like a local launch again then but Bruce was up for a fish so instead of going off the end of the road to try pakefield we headed for Corton where lead Us were out and had taken nineteen codling, a hundred whiting and twenty dogfish two days before; Colin was out again and I was hoping the tide would allow us to get to where he was… …I forgot my lucky hat. My wife had put my boots on sticks to dry, paired left and left, right and right; I brought two rights. It was flat, we got set up. Hard work paddling out, tide was running hard, gave up heading for Lead Us and dropped anchor on my smut spot. Except not quite, no lucky hat so we missed it. Okay, it’s all nice and rough here anyway, time to get the baits ready. Whole squid on the starboard rod, black lug and a whole sandeel on the port side. Third rod, set up for baited feathers and small stuff, was a victim of the hat. I’d overtightened the sideplate when cleaning the reel and it couldn’t engage the anti-reverse. It had to sit out of the way, which was in the way. Meanwhile, the tide was running hard. Too hard. I’d only let a triple length out so I could chat to Bruce alongside; it was dragging. Wrong! Less stable than normal too – the more line out the better it is. I released a load, went out to about eight times the depth, settled lovely. A walloping bite! Bass bite. Sandeel head comes in. Damn. The hat would have caught it. More bites, normal bites, one hit then nothing – fish going at the bait as they pass but being beyond it if they miss, no second chances. Walloping bass take two on the whole squid; nothing. A dozen missed bites before point 6, a whiting, on worm tipped with squid head. More missed bites, for Bruce too. Then a good bite, great bend in the rod and up comes, no, not a cod, a dogfish! Point 7. Coughs up a small sandeel and some shrimp. Takes skin from my wrist somehow even held properly… Bruce is catching regularly, plenty of whiting about. As the tide eased less missed bites. I was pulling in a decent fish when it went light, trace snapped. Dammit. That was my wishbone gone, this was producing most fish, as always. I retied my spare, rebaited with lovely whole black lug and squid heads and cracked the lot off on the cast – braid knot cut through the flouro knot. My hat would have stopped that. Two 2/0 pennels now. Great for starfish. Doesn’t count. A few brittlestars coming up too; cod food! More whiting, plenty in fact. Big ones kept, smaller ones kept when hooked badly, kept around fifteen, returned about thirty, missed about the same. At slack the wind got up and the clouds came over and we started getting cold. By the time the ebb started it was getting colder still and chopping up. After an hour of ebb it was running hard, then things went light; I thought my anchor line had parted or the weak link bust. I drifted fifty yards and was level with Bruce before the anchor dug in again. Maybe something had hit it and knocked it out of the mud. Bruce now tells me he’s lost a rod somehow, dealing with a problem, a fish, a wave and his leash failed somehow. Tide really going now and we needed to paddle in. I hauled anchor then went over to help Bruce as it was his first time anchoring and it was flowing hard. We had a bit of a battle – yak bought rigged but with no locking cleat for the anchor so no way to keep it bow on. I held onto the side – second pass getting me close enough to grab hold, and with my stern to the flow the tankwell filled and fish started to float – the one ungutted one floated off and I think some gutted ones also escaped. It was the lack of hat again, I swear. Two yaks against the anchor was too much, Bruce was making no headway. I told him to unclip and paddle in so I could hook it up over the forward hauling cleat and bring it in. Not a problem, job done and we both paddled back for a smooth landing. Well, I reckoned we hada lot of bad luck. Bruce reckoned otherwise as we’d caught. I reckoned it was true because we’d missed so many and lost some. No matter, we had tea.

A Gentlemanly Sport…06/10/2013

A Gentlemanly Sport…06/10/2013 As I sit here in the car park of McDonalds tapping away and with facebook blocked ‘m reflecting on my afternoon. I only had an afternoon having required much sleep after a red-eye shift thanks to living in somewhere with the same description as the gentlemanly Sir Alec Guinnes (well, Obi Wan Kenobi, he was in character) gave to Mos Eisley, namely “You won’t find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” Like old Obi Wan I had my young future Jedi in tow as we left the house after a fine lunch of nachos. Yes, I spent my shift watching a Beavis and Butthead DVD. Ungentlemanly but that was before sleep. Anyway, I’m in McDonalds car park awaiting the RAC with bad news of alternator or fan belt, a few days after the MOT, having had the warning light go on and the power steering go off on the way back from an impromptu bonus fishing session. Flo and Whippersnapper had gone to the beach. Little Kipper however wanted to blow her birthday money and was keen to see my brother’s new ferrets and try and catch a goldfish. I’m in need of some points for the final leg of the species tournament so we combined the two. A drive out to my brother’s farm and we took the tetra down to the lake for a dabble with corn and brandlings from the compost heap, a size 12 hook and a 3bb float on my IM10 maxximus. A handful of corn goes in. Two corn go on and away we go. My float moves about a bit but nothing doing. Fresh tin of Green Giant too. Change of plan then, fish the margins for the crucians with a brandling trebled over. Bites weren’t long in coming even though Abigail was running around playing. We’d had stopped for a drink en-route and she’d been chuffed, with her short hair, when we were referred to as gents and was still in a good mood; I was also in good spirits but busier as the float started to bob around. Dip, dip, stop. Dip, stop. Dip, dip, dip move away, strike and fish on! Point four comes aboard in the form of a lovely golden Crucian. Super job! A few more follow, crucians, hybrids, goldfish of various markings. Even one with a double lower tail fin joined across, kind of a 3 pointed star but with a web across. I want a bright orange one though, I’m not claiming something unstereotypical unless it’s orange. It’s not worth the aggro! It takes a while and then I drop one. Grr. More crucians and hybrids follow, great but where’s Goldie? Finally, with the float shooting under and away I’m into one! Great, Point five, all oddities so far. Gorgeous fins on it and such vivid colouring; pointless in the murky water in which it lives. There are fish jumping everywhere, no sign of the grass carp though and nothing large. We sit on the bank, I hook some for her and then she takes the rod and catches her first unaided fish; crucian, followed soon by a goldfish. She tells me she’s having great fun! Enough’s enough though, she goes to play with the ferrets and I sit for another ten minutes trying for something larger – I manage but not large even though it gives a good account of itself. Next stop, Haddiscoe, Sticklebacks after a quick hello to my parents. A few tiny ones seen but nohing showed interest in worm at all. At least we got a frog though.

October is Scorpio!...05/10/2013

October is Scorpio!...05/10/2013 The internet tells me that the element associated with Scorpio is water. As opposed to the 'roiling seas' seen in other Water Signs, a better motto for Scorpios would be 'still waters run deep. Scorpio is the eighth sign of the zodiac, and that shouldn't be taken lightly -- nor should Scorpios. That’s what it says. But more of that later. Saturday? me fishing on a Saturday? Why? Simple. My children were off to the second birthday party in two days and I didn’t have to attend on account of being on shift later. This meant – hurrah – a couple of hours spare which, with the huge seas of the week having disappeared into a flat calm bit of water I had a good opportunity to give Kiddie’s Corner a bash with the LRF gear again. It’s only a few weeks since I gave it the first go and I’d managed bonus Shanny and Corkwing, a first and a first local, and my first local Pouting of the year. I figured the crashing waves would have stirred things up nicely and got everything feeding so I was hopeful. Down the road, into the sea, along the beach and drop anchor on the previous spot as wrasse are supposedly territorial. A lead down and a float out. Crystal waggler, size 16, 3ft depth. Water depth was around 4ft, a foot swell, but with jumbled rocks. The lead kept snagging, the flow kept moving me about and eventually I lost the first rig without a (seen) bite. But there was still the float with its pinch of defrosted frozen black Lancashire lugworm. I retied. Still waters…not quite. Run deep…not quite. Not taken lightly…not likely. My float went under and I struck. I could feel the wriggle on the end. Hurrah! Something here, what though? That’s how I’d had the shanny last time…I swung it up and in and immediately let out a whoop. Which is something a few people know I do from time to time. This whoop was too much of a whoop for a three inch tiddler but in context I’ve only had one before and was in love with it immediately. Now, I’d had one off the pier around the millennium which I thought was a baby monkfish. I wasn’t really into it so much then you see, and had seen a larger one on another occasion landed by a kid. So, my first locally for many years and my second ever. Not to mention my third point and another ‘bonus’ species. The biggest whoop though was on account of not having to drive over a hundred miles in the hope of ignoring bass and getting through the pout to get one off the north coast on the wreck of the Rosalie at Weybourne where I’d found one before. Yep, I’d got me a Long Spined Sea Scorpion! It’s the Johnny Rotten of the fish world this. Spiky and full of spirit. Father Lasher is another name it has. Maybe it’s not a streamlined, smooth, shiny handsome fish, perhaps it’s an ugly brute of a devil but personally I think it’s wonderful and would absolutely love to have one in a tank. They have the habit of changing colour to suit their surroundings too. definitely worthy of a whoop! Nothing else was coming so I moved along to the corner, try by the pier and see if a shanny would come, or perhaps a weever; maybe even a rockling or who knows what? I lost another rig. And another. No bites. I gave it quite a while and then battled to retrieve my anchor. Back again to the first spot. Nothing more but hey, I’d had a surprise prize and I wasn’t complaining, besides, it was bed time. So I started back and then decided to stick on a one inch lure I’ve had for ages and never used just on the off-chance that my strokes of pure luck over the last two days would result in a bonus salmon, sea trout, tuna or marlin. Of course it did nothing but there’s always hope. I landed; it looked like rain so it was probably for the best. Now what shall I play at tomorrow? Or should I stop playing around and behave properly seeing as how Lead Us were out where I usually fish and had already caught (after three hours fishing when I spoke to him at midday on my way out) 7 codling, 10 dogfish and around 70 whiting. Hmm. No. I’ve got all week.

It Asda Be…04/10/2013

It Asda Be…04/10/2013 Wind’s been howling from the east all week so I’ve not fished, I’ve played with all the other local surf dudes instead. It was sick and other surfer dude terms but it’s not fishing. Some satisfaction from breaking a colleague of course and I love that more than any other paddling, not least because conditions are rarely right, but with the final leg of the species tournament upon us I needed the weather to improve so I could go and get any remaining summer species before they were gone. So enough of this. It’s been handy though, being down the end of the road, a road blocked off at the turning just past and with my car in for MOT and a retest because it seems to have got rusty in lots of places all of a sudden. Can’t imagine why. Anyway, to cut a long story short my wife was on her day off and I had promised to make lunch – a whole bass baked in a salt crust with a prawn, parsley and mace butter melted and poured on – for 1pm. In the meantime I was also expected to do the shopping and dump the glass in the recycling bin so I had to go to Asda. I also had a borrowed Yakboard to return. A plan was evolving. The Yakboard went on the roof, a rod somehow fell into the car and I took a shortcut. Now this was a devious shortcut involving a three mile drive to Harbour Road rather than the three hundred yards to the supermarket. A man shortcut. This left me the wrong side of the water for Asda of course but seeing as I was there and just happened to have some brandlings from the compost heap in a tub against the miraculously appearing dry trousers and some loose straps which caused the yakboard to fall into the water I ended up on it with a worm that had accidentally tripped and hooked itself. Might as well see if the gobies were still about then. It was blowing hard still, that was the only problem. Blowing me onto the shore in fact. I figured the pilings would be the best place to get me out of the wind so I made my way over to them. I used my light gear – a Fladen Maxximus IM10 Higher Modulus 2-16g spinning rod, a size 16 hook and a 5bb crystal waggler. It was too deep here to see the bottom but knock me sideways, I saw a large thin lipped mullet cruise right under me about three feet down! Maybe, maybe…but no. But hang on, what was this small thing taking a look at my bait? Small, shiny, a stripe along the flank…could it be something I’d only had once before quite by chance? It wasn’t a small bass or mullet, I knew that. No, I was pretty sure it was a sand smelt. There’s a target and a half, not had one this year!. I nipped the worm smaller and tried to tempt one. Every time they veered off, the little sods. They were mostly about an inch long, some a bit bigger but half an hour passed and half the time I thought I could get away with. I postponed it and moved in closer to look for a goby, holding myself in place on a chain link bit of fence. Down went the bait in 2ft of water and I kept my finger on the line to feel for bites. Nothing at first, try again a foot away…a nibble. Try again having failed to hook whatever had a go. Another nibble and a pull; I struck into the goby and brought it up. Brilliant, the target species got before they disappear, the first point for the final leg and, to cap it all, at a good two inches it was a new personal best! Haha. Right, now for those pesky smelt. I moved a bit further along but although they went close and a couple of them nibbled they were playing hard to get. I decided to move around further as I couldn’t hold myself quite where I wanted…around the corner onto the main water, holding myself in place by hand on a fender made of stacked tyres on the corner of the pilings. Doiwn went the bait and I watched the smelt coming for the bait, larger ones. Again and again they came and looked. I jinked the worm a bit and then a nibble but no taking of the hook. I nipped a bit more worm off. A better pull but a missed strike. Down again and then I watched as one approached, head on, mouth open, slow and straight and it took the bait and dived left; absolutely fascinating and, I have to say, heart stopping to watch. But it wasn’t hooked. Once more into the breech and this time two of them darted up, the first one getting the whole bait and hook into its mouth and with a quick jerk it was hooked, fought, played and landed! beautiful iridescent mauve, violet, purple on the flanks. Adipose fin giving a positive identification. I snapped off the photos and unhooked it. No time today for mullet – there’s never enough time for those damned things – two targeted points achieved, a pb and my first sand smelt for a few years (second ever). I headed in, loaded up and went to get some eggs to make the chilli chocolate muffins I’d promised for a birthday party in three hours and get that bass in the oven. I like going shopping.