After Tea...26/07/2014
I'd been doing random stuff around the house and with my family all day, some of which required the roof rack so I was outside putting the Tempo back on when an old friend sauntered up to ask how much they cost. He's an old mate I was in the TA with before he left to join the paras and now lives a couple of roads away. I'd not managed to arrange something with Heroes on the Water for him yet but he was fed up with the lack of fish falling to beach gear and knew I did alright...well, long story short I sent him home to get some other clothes, dug out some spare paddle kit and twenty minutes later we were on the beach at dusk!
A sea mist had come in, it'd been a scorching day, and the sea was flat so we headed up the Ness with the bass rods out. A fast paddle up to the heads before streaming the lures out and we were off, me tucked in tight and Heath just offshore working three Minnow 12's between us. The water was coloured but we were hopeful that the fish would be actively hunting by vibration at this time; I'd done okay in the morning anyway.
He was loving it, better than beasting himself for ten miles as per his original plan! The foghorn was blasting out as we passed it and it could be felt hitting us and travelling through the water into the kayaks too, a strange sensation I must say! Visibility was okay though, we spotted a yacht coming into port from 300 yards plus and being tight to the sea defences we had no worries anyway. Up we went, a mile or so, before turning and trying with the flow this time on the return. None of the usual places produced any fish though and so our hour's paddle was fishless but it mattered not one iota, he's hooked even if my spare kit is worn out and he got somewhat moist. No real surprise he enjoyed it as it was a beautiful and serene evening. And so to bed.
Saturday, 26 July 2014
Friday, 25 July 2014
Training...25/07/2014
Training...25/07/2014
I was so tired I didn't set my alarm after work, figuring I'd sleep until I woke up and be in a good frame for starting my holiday. My wife would be home anyway so the fact I forgot that George was coming over from twelve onwards shouldn't have been an issue and I usually wake by eleven at the latest anyway. I woke at one to see some missed messages and didn't see him out there when I looked...so he stayed another half an hour before I had another check. Ooops, sorry!
I invited him in, we drank coffee then went down to the beach so he could try his new paddle and do some anchor and self-rescue practice about tree hundred yards off in his new Ultra that he'd picked up from Garry.
We started off with me showing him how I drop and haul anchor before he did the same, his new, longer anchor warp proving to be no trouble. Easy as! Next up was self-rescue. I'd gone out in wetsuit and tentatively slipped into the water, still a bit cold for me to swim to be honest. I talked it through and then climbed aboard. George was next, dropped into the water and had a go himself with no problem. And again. And again. I got him leaning it over as far as he could until it went, clambering up front, showed an assisted rescue and so on before attaching his kayak to mine as a tow and talking him through approaching a person in the water and getting them calmly wrapped around the bow before I paddled him in for a while before another self-rescue. By this time he was getting more tired and more cold which was a good emulation of reality. One final thing...we dropped the anchor and I pulled the kayak, paddling hard, to make his self-rescue even more difficult. Flying colours!
As we paddled in I heard a shout and ended up carrying my wife on the bow and my daughter in the tankwell as they'd got home and headed straight to the beach, swimming out to join us. A most enjoyable and productive session! Wish my camera had lasted more than one shot though.
I was so tired I didn't set my alarm after work, figuring I'd sleep until I woke up and be in a good frame for starting my holiday. My wife would be home anyway so the fact I forgot that George was coming over from twelve onwards shouldn't have been an issue and I usually wake by eleven at the latest anyway. I woke at one to see some missed messages and didn't see him out there when I looked...so he stayed another half an hour before I had another check. Ooops, sorry!
I invited him in, we drank coffee then went down to the beach so he could try his new paddle and do some anchor and self-rescue practice about tree hundred yards off in his new Ultra that he'd picked up from Garry.
We started off with me showing him how I drop and haul anchor before he did the same, his new, longer anchor warp proving to be no trouble. Easy as! Next up was self-rescue. I'd gone out in wetsuit and tentatively slipped into the water, still a bit cold for me to swim to be honest. I talked it through and then climbed aboard. George was next, dropped into the water and had a go himself with no problem. And again. And again. I got him leaning it over as far as he could until it went, clambering up front, showed an assisted rescue and so on before attaching his kayak to mine as a tow and talking him through approaching a person in the water and getting them calmly wrapped around the bow before I paddled him in for a while before another self-rescue. By this time he was getting more tired and more cold which was a good emulation of reality. One final thing...we dropped the anchor and I pulled the kayak, paddling hard, to make his self-rescue even more difficult. Flying colours!
As we paddled in I heard a shout and ended up carrying my wife on the bow and my daughter in the tankwell as they'd got home and headed straight to the beach, swimming out to join us. A most enjoyable and productive session! Wish my camera had lasted more than one shot though.
Wednesday, 23 July 2014
Oxwich Bay Toping...20/07/2014
Oxwich Bay Toping...20/07/2014
The competition now over we had a plan to go for quality fish. I woke up around six and joined John, Martin and Chicky up by the marquee, the last two standing from the night before and set to work barbecuing some pork burgers for my breakfast while drinking three strong mugs of Azeera that John handed me. Result! I had slept well and was raring to go but the rest were still sleeping and we couldn’t get parked up before eight. The others appeared eventually and then we set about tying rigs. Five of us gathered around Mark who had the 8/0's out and while he, Martin and Amos crimped up wire and tied on rubbing leaders I replaced my semi-circle thick gage 10/0s with some of Mark's finer, shinier 8/0's onto my 1mm 80lb clear mono leader, a five foot trace with a large swivel being my favoured route before a bead and zip slider on the 40lb braid. This would remove the weak point of braid to mono leader knot (it can cut through) and combine both in one. This was fitted to my 7ft Maxximus Nano 10-20lb rod and LD15 Lever drag reel; Lever drag is brilliant when going for larger fish as you can have it freespooling one minute then flick the drag on to the max for the strike to set the hook deeply then slacken it own to the right level so the fish can take line without the imprecision of fiddling two handed with a star drag. I tied up five rigs, handing two to Shaun and keeping the other two in reserve. Mine were on 80lb 1mm mono with hooks nicked off Mark, he, Martin and Amos used wire. Then we set off for the beach. Yaks off, game on!
I had enough waiting around for the others and set off first trolling a string of ten sabikis on a large wedge with the Nano 7-25g / LP Magnet set up in the hope of some mackerel - I had no bait otherwise. I stopped to jig a couple of times for no result then, on my third stop, while winding it in across the surface I had my first ever English garfish! I was made up, it was one of those species that has been on the hit list for years. I’d had a metre-long one off the Dominican Republic from the side of the ship I worked on the night after I turned twenty one so it was a great result. Great bait too. Beautiful little thing.
I headed out deeper, jigged for a while, Shaun joining me. Finally a pollack jumped on the hook. "Where the hell were you yesterday when I was looking for you eh?" Didn't escape this time id it, oh no. In the tank well for bait and two more followed in the next ten minutes. Perfect size for bait. Shaun was struggling so I gave him one. Inshore, Mark had Gurnard, launce and mackerel, one of each. No-one else had caught at this point.
We paddled out past the point looking for somewhere likely, devoid of marks or electronics, just a vague idea from a second-hand conversation. A radio conversation sporadically between us to report what we'd found bait-wise. Mark said Pikey was heading out and he'd managed one yesterday so knew where we needed to go. Then Shaun pulled up a string of four mackerel with me getting one straight after. We had good bait and we stuck the tope rods down while we drifted slowly around, with mine cut as a flapper once it had died after half an hour drifting as a livebait.
Then, whistling. A couple of kayaks were out a few hundred yards away. We called the Oxwich boats for no reply and went out to investigate. No, they weren't in trouble, there was a comp running and the whistles were to call in the rib to weigh the catch. Oh, they'd had four tope! Shaun told me this...should we drop here? "No, Pikey's nearly here and he knows the mark...sod it, they're here, yes!"
The anchor went straight down, a 2kg borrowed off John after mine had been left in the wreck the day before. I dropped the bait down, mackerel head and one remaining fillet on it, the other ripped off in the snags from drifting it. Shaun moved around to get position...tap tap tap...tap tap tap...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rod in hand, thumb on the lever drag, wait, two seconds, five seconds...don't miss it...ten seconds (might well have been two!!!) lever right up to the gate, rod up, strike! Strike! Hook up! The rod arches down and it goes mental, banging and runs, good weight, good fish..."Tope on Shaun, don't drop yet, don't know where he's going or where the anchor's laying and I want pictures!" He circles, the fish goes uptide a bit, around, crosses the bow a few times, I pump it up, the drag lightened off to just the right amount so it can pull line every time it dives. I'm not going to bully it. It comes up, we get a sight of it - twenty five I reckon, decent fish, the size of the only other one I had, up in Scotland a few years back, we've done it! It fights hard, comes up close, Shaun is filming and snapping, I get a couple of it in the water and then it's alongside, still quite fresh, the hook in the scissors, perfect hook-up. I grab the leader, disengage the drag, stick the rod in the flushmount, get it close to hand, can't grab it...it pulls, takes line, the leader goes through my hand, I'm holding the braid, it rubs the braid on the side of the yak as it goes under, runs it over something and it parts. Damn, no trophy shot! I call Martin and Mark up, they've just got to Pikey's mark, going to try there.
Shaun drops anchor. I put down half one of Shaun's mackerel, head half, hook going up through the head from the bottom as per the mackerel. Down it goes. Shaun is setting his anchor and it's tap, tap, tap...take it...tap, tap, tap...come on....tap, tap, tap "here fishy fishy, come on fishy fishy..." it goes quiet. Teasing does nothing, I wind up. Bait gone. Tail end and down...two minutes, tap, tap, tap...I call Mark and Martin, they're coming now!...tap, tap, tap...goes quiet, bait gone. Half a pollack, head half...
...tap, tap, tap....wait for it...tap, tap, tap...here fishy fishy...tap tap tap...quiet, bait gone.
Mark and Martin drop anchor. tap, tap, tap a few times then quiet. Five minutes later I pull up a good brown crab, he drops off at the bow. I replace the bait.
Shaun's drifted out further, he's into a tope. It snaps him as he's landing it, a good fish too. We're fishing like amateurs.
Amos drops anchor nearby. Martin and Mark are getting taps but no hook ups. Me? Tap, tap, tap...I stroke my lucky hat, here fishy fishy, come on fishy fishy...tap, tap, tap. I have a pollack head on with guts. Crushed a bit and slashed a bit. Tap, tap, tap...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He's off, I leave it, leave it, leave it, thumb the drag and hit it...Bang! Bang! Tope on! Off it goes, doesn't like this one bit! The drag is reset, line is being taken the fish is being pumped up two to one, it heads uptide, downtide, across...Amos moves over to take video and stills, I play it, take my time, don't bully it, tire it out for landing but not too much...it breaks the surface GODD FISH! A PB, UK PB too, looks 35-40lb, a belting fish, a nice fat-bellied male in prime condition. I get it alongside, can't reach the tail with the dorsal at my hip, good length...but you don't want to grab the tail anyway, shark's tails are ticklish and they go ape if you grab them there...the hook looks like it's working loose...I grab the pectoral and get a soaking from the tail, it's fighting me hand to hand now...I lift him in and onto my lap. I've done it! YES! I was happy enough with my weekend yesterday, now I'm ecstatic! Amos comes and hooks onto my bow, starts snapping. Camera vertical, getting a nice shot of my bow, me, the tope, the sea, the point...I want some close-ups too but that's not going to happen. I take some from my own camera, camera overhead and far back, the bow mount video steamed up (turns out it does harm and the file is unreadable as it wouldn't go off until the battery died. Gutted.) Job done I reposition it to remove the hook, it's dropped out. I put the fish over the side, holding the tail to let it recover. It gets a breather and then goes for it, splashing me a goodbye. Fantastic!
Right, I have two choices. The first is to bait up again and catch another. I could have, I would have but we're all really tight on bait. Mark and Martin made it out here with a single mackerel. Amos has a couple of gurnard. The fish are under me, I give Amos my spot and go to share my bait out with the others. Pikey is out here now, his anchor is lost so I tell him the fish are here, he can clip to Amos' anchor set-up. I go off to Martin, give him half my remaining bait, move over to Mark, give him the rest - it's a bit of a mess after some tope nibbling but times are hard...I paddle over to see Shaun...that's when his second hits, he's just managed a fresh mackerel, it's gone down whole and live and been picked up immediately. His Fladen Powerstick arches south and he's in the money
…I stick close but far enough to film him without being in the way. He's being spun around, he's laughing and swearing, his feather rod gets in the way o I move in and retrieve it from his yak. The tope picks up the line before I retrieve it from the bottom so we have to cut it off lest the braid slice through his mono. It's up, dives again, looks twenty five, comes back to the top, it's alongside. "Grab the pectoral" I tell him and he grabs the tail getting a soaking and a battering..."get him in"..."he's in the bag!"
Shaun is over the moon, there's one angry fish aboard and his toes are its target again, as they were in the water...it's bleeding from the mouth and spits the hook while in his lap. Maybe we want a wider gape next time? No matter, our job is easier now and we've got our fish in. I move in for photos and then he's ready to release it...I switch to video after he gives her a kiss for luck!
"Hold her tail and when it's ready it'll go"
It was already ready and with its pectorals in the water it goes for it giving us both a soaking. We're laughing and head for the others.
[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIvdHoGjl8c[/video]
I go to pick up Amos' anchor as Pikey has tied on his spare and dropped it but the tide has picked up now and from leaving getting to Mark and passing him the buoy has been dragged under with not enough warp. I circle for twenty minutes but can't find it. It'll have to drop in height and strength before it resurfaces but no, Amos is going to come in with us. He unhooks and I get the reel but on the wrong side; Shaun comes in and clips to it and starts to haul.
The tide is ripping but we can't drag it out even through the weak link is felt to snap. Two of us are on it as Shaun has water coming over the gunwhales, we get up as much warp as we can, we're straight above but it's got to go; I cut free. Mark, Martin and Pikey haul up and follow the three of us in; they've been unlucky not to connect with anything other than dogfish while Shaun and I have had a field day.
We land, say our au revoirs and head the seven hours home, trying all the way to get James on the phone, James, our usual fishing buddy who couldn't escape work. I send him a text eventually..."You know when you get a tope on the kayak? Oh, no, sorry. I'll ask Shaun instead. Ignore this text" I hit send and we wait for a bite...two minutes.
Home for half ten, I'm going to bed.
The competition now over we had a plan to go for quality fish. I woke up around six and joined John, Martin and Chicky up by the marquee, the last two standing from the night before and set to work barbecuing some pork burgers for my breakfast while drinking three strong mugs of Azeera that John handed me. Result! I had slept well and was raring to go but the rest were still sleeping and we couldn’t get parked up before eight. The others appeared eventually and then we set about tying rigs. Five of us gathered around Mark who had the 8/0's out and while he, Martin and Amos crimped up wire and tied on rubbing leaders I replaced my semi-circle thick gage 10/0s with some of Mark's finer, shinier 8/0's onto my 1mm 80lb clear mono leader, a five foot trace with a large swivel being my favoured route before a bead and zip slider on the 40lb braid. This would remove the weak point of braid to mono leader knot (it can cut through) and combine both in one. This was fitted to my 7ft Maxximus Nano 10-20lb rod and LD15 Lever drag reel; Lever drag is brilliant when going for larger fish as you can have it freespooling one minute then flick the drag on to the max for the strike to set the hook deeply then slacken it own to the right level so the fish can take line without the imprecision of fiddling two handed with a star drag. I tied up five rigs, handing two to Shaun and keeping the other two in reserve. Mine were on 80lb 1mm mono with hooks nicked off Mark, he, Martin and Amos used wire. Then we set off for the beach. Yaks off, game on!
I had enough waiting around for the others and set off first trolling a string of ten sabikis on a large wedge with the Nano 7-25g / LP Magnet set up in the hope of some mackerel - I had no bait otherwise. I stopped to jig a couple of times for no result then, on my third stop, while winding it in across the surface I had my first ever English garfish! I was made up, it was one of those species that has been on the hit list for years. I’d had a metre-long one off the Dominican Republic from the side of the ship I worked on the night after I turned twenty one so it was a great result. Great bait too. Beautiful little thing.
I headed out deeper, jigged for a while, Shaun joining me. Finally a pollack jumped on the hook. "Where the hell were you yesterday when I was looking for you eh?" Didn't escape this time id it, oh no. In the tank well for bait and two more followed in the next ten minutes. Perfect size for bait. Shaun was struggling so I gave him one. Inshore, Mark had Gurnard, launce and mackerel, one of each. No-one else had caught at this point.
We paddled out past the point looking for somewhere likely, devoid of marks or electronics, just a vague idea from a second-hand conversation. A radio conversation sporadically between us to report what we'd found bait-wise. Mark said Pikey was heading out and he'd managed one yesterday so knew where we needed to go. Then Shaun pulled up a string of four mackerel with me getting one straight after. We had good bait and we stuck the tope rods down while we drifted slowly around, with mine cut as a flapper once it had died after half an hour drifting as a livebait.
Then, whistling. A couple of kayaks were out a few hundred yards away. We called the Oxwich boats for no reply and went out to investigate. No, they weren't in trouble, there was a comp running and the whistles were to call in the rib to weigh the catch. Oh, they'd had four tope! Shaun told me this...should we drop here? "No, Pikey's nearly here and he knows the mark...sod it, they're here, yes!"
The anchor went straight down, a 2kg borrowed off John after mine had been left in the wreck the day before. I dropped the bait down, mackerel head and one remaining fillet on it, the other ripped off in the snags from drifting it. Shaun moved around to get position...tap tap tap...tap tap tap...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rod in hand, thumb on the lever drag, wait, two seconds, five seconds...don't miss it...ten seconds (might well have been two!!!) lever right up to the gate, rod up, strike! Strike! Hook up! The rod arches down and it goes mental, banging and runs, good weight, good fish..."Tope on Shaun, don't drop yet, don't know where he's going or where the anchor's laying and I want pictures!" He circles, the fish goes uptide a bit, around, crosses the bow a few times, I pump it up, the drag lightened off to just the right amount so it can pull line every time it dives. I'm not going to bully it. It comes up, we get a sight of it - twenty five I reckon, decent fish, the size of the only other one I had, up in Scotland a few years back, we've done it! It fights hard, comes up close, Shaun is filming and snapping, I get a couple of it in the water and then it's alongside, still quite fresh, the hook in the scissors, perfect hook-up. I grab the leader, disengage the drag, stick the rod in the flushmount, get it close to hand, can't grab it...it pulls, takes line, the leader goes through my hand, I'm holding the braid, it rubs the braid on the side of the yak as it goes under, runs it over something and it parts. Damn, no trophy shot! I call Martin and Mark up, they've just got to Pikey's mark, going to try there.
Shaun drops anchor. I put down half one of Shaun's mackerel, head half, hook going up through the head from the bottom as per the mackerel. Down it goes. Shaun is setting his anchor and it's tap, tap, tap...take it...tap, tap, tap...come on....tap, tap, tap "here fishy fishy, come on fishy fishy..." it goes quiet. Teasing does nothing, I wind up. Bait gone. Tail end and down...two minutes, tap, tap, tap...I call Mark and Martin, they're coming now!...tap, tap, tap...goes quiet, bait gone. Half a pollack, head half...
...tap, tap, tap....wait for it...tap, tap, tap...here fishy fishy...tap tap tap...quiet, bait gone.
Mark and Martin drop anchor. tap, tap, tap a few times then quiet. Five minutes later I pull up a good brown crab, he drops off at the bow. I replace the bait.
Shaun's drifted out further, he's into a tope. It snaps him as he's landing it, a good fish too. We're fishing like amateurs.
Amos drops anchor nearby. Martin and Mark are getting taps but no hook ups. Me? Tap, tap, tap...I stroke my lucky hat, here fishy fishy, come on fishy fishy...tap, tap, tap. I have a pollack head on with guts. Crushed a bit and slashed a bit. Tap, tap, tap...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He's off, I leave it, leave it, leave it, thumb the drag and hit it...Bang! Bang! Tope on! Off it goes, doesn't like this one bit! The drag is reset, line is being taken the fish is being pumped up two to one, it heads uptide, downtide, across...Amos moves over to take video and stills, I play it, take my time, don't bully it, tire it out for landing but not too much...it breaks the surface GODD FISH! A PB, UK PB too, looks 35-40lb, a belting fish, a nice fat-bellied male in prime condition. I get it alongside, can't reach the tail with the dorsal at my hip, good length...but you don't want to grab the tail anyway, shark's tails are ticklish and they go ape if you grab them there...the hook looks like it's working loose...I grab the pectoral and get a soaking from the tail, it's fighting me hand to hand now...I lift him in and onto my lap. I've done it! YES! I was happy enough with my weekend yesterday, now I'm ecstatic! Amos comes and hooks onto my bow, starts snapping. Camera vertical, getting a nice shot of my bow, me, the tope, the sea, the point...I want some close-ups too but that's not going to happen. I take some from my own camera, camera overhead and far back, the bow mount video steamed up (turns out it does harm and the file is unreadable as it wouldn't go off until the battery died. Gutted.) Job done I reposition it to remove the hook, it's dropped out. I put the fish over the side, holding the tail to let it recover. It gets a breather and then goes for it, splashing me a goodbye. Fantastic!
Right, I have two choices. The first is to bait up again and catch another. I could have, I would have but we're all really tight on bait. Mark and Martin made it out here with a single mackerel. Amos has a couple of gurnard. The fish are under me, I give Amos my spot and go to share my bait out with the others. Pikey is out here now, his anchor is lost so I tell him the fish are here, he can clip to Amos' anchor set-up. I go off to Martin, give him half my remaining bait, move over to Mark, give him the rest - it's a bit of a mess after some tope nibbling but times are hard...I paddle over to see Shaun...that's when his second hits, he's just managed a fresh mackerel, it's gone down whole and live and been picked up immediately. His Fladen Powerstick arches south and he's in the money
…I stick close but far enough to film him without being in the way. He's being spun around, he's laughing and swearing, his feather rod gets in the way o I move in and retrieve it from his yak. The tope picks up the line before I retrieve it from the bottom so we have to cut it off lest the braid slice through his mono. It's up, dives again, looks twenty five, comes back to the top, it's alongside. "Grab the pectoral" I tell him and he grabs the tail getting a soaking and a battering..."get him in"..."he's in the bag!"
Shaun is over the moon, there's one angry fish aboard and his toes are its target again, as they were in the water...it's bleeding from the mouth and spits the hook while in his lap. Maybe we want a wider gape next time? No matter, our job is easier now and we've got our fish in. I move in for photos and then he's ready to release it...I switch to video after he gives her a kiss for luck!
"Hold her tail and when it's ready it'll go"
It was already ready and with its pectorals in the water it goes for it giving us both a soaking. We're laughing and head for the others.
[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIvdHoGjl8c[/video]
I go to pick up Amos' anchor as Pikey has tied on his spare and dropped it but the tide has picked up now and from leaving getting to Mark and passing him the buoy has been dragged under with not enough warp. I circle for twenty minutes but can't find it. It'll have to drop in height and strength before it resurfaces but no, Amos is going to come in with us. He unhooks and I get the reel but on the wrong side; Shaun comes in and clips to it and starts to haul.
The tide is ripping but we can't drag it out even through the weak link is felt to snap. Two of us are on it as Shaun has water coming over the gunwhales, we get up as much warp as we can, we're straight above but it's got to go; I cut free. Mark, Martin and Pikey haul up and follow the three of us in; they've been unlucky not to connect with anything other than dogfish while Shaun and I have had a field day.
We land, say our au revoirs and head the seven hours home, trying all the way to get James on the phone, James, our usual fishing buddy who couldn't escape work. I send him a text eventually..."You know when you get a tope on the kayak? Oh, no, sorry. I'll ask Shaun instead. Ignore this text" I hit send and we wait for a bite...two minutes.
Home for half ten, I'm going to bed.
Sunday, 20 July 2014
Who were we trying to kid?
Who were we trying to kid?
With the school holidays upon us and my children here this year instead of France it had been difficult to get away. Abigail, my youngest, was a bit perturbed at not having been able to go to a competition like Eloise had a couple of years back so we decided to arrange one of our own; nothing serious but a bit of fun all the same and an excuse to get to the beach. Hopefully we’d find a few mackerel or sandeel, perhaps even a bass or two between us...
...Except the wind was looking pretty strong. Nothing we couldn’t handle ourselves but the children might struggle. Beautiful sunny weather though. A bit warm to drag four kayaks over Mount Steve but I was lucky to have help from some of the bunch that joined us; usual faces and various offspring even Martin’s wife.
Within minutes my girls were in the water enjoying the shore dump with some of the others, just playing in the waves at first while I chatted. Entry fee was sweets and I’d ran around trying to find some on a sunday morning, not the easiest thing while the shops were still shut and so we’d all ended up with larger bags than originally intended. Except it didn’t look like the kids could compete.
Andy landed then, had been out all morning with Ian and Gilly was out there somewhere as well. Reports were conclusive, there weren’t any bass playing. I had a quick troll to see if I could find anything and see how it was for the girls but the tide and wind were too much for the little folk out on the reefs. With that ascertained I decided to get mine on the water to see how they could cope if we drifted with feathers.
Abigail took her rigged Kea, Eloise my Tempo while I hopped into the Midway. Off we went and they were beaming. Alex and his daughter were on the water, Martin with his son in the tankwell and others here and there. We were soon downtide and downwind and paddling back, the odd seal popping up nearby.
With Abigail back on the beach Eloise wanted to practice re-entries and have a go on the Midway. She’s outgrown the Kea now and the Tetra isn’t the right boat for her so I was pleased she was coping alright with the Tempo. Kev was trialling his too and practising his own self-rescues so a race was proposed! Kev was quickest to get up and on but going straight back over the other side lost him the lead and Eloise was declared the winner! So pleased was she she jumped off and had a few more goes before we swapped kayaks.
Now, I tend to say that the Midway is a kayak for the more advanced paddler but it would appear that this isn’t quite accurate. Advanced paddlers and little girls. She had no problem whatsoever and both paddling and re-entries were easy enough. She even surfed it in on a straighter line than me on the Tempo!
Well, we tried fishing a few more times but it wasn’t suitable so the kids all played, we got some meat barbecuing, my cousin pitched up with her kids and eventually the sweets got shared out before we all headed back home after a long, hot and sunny day on the beach chilling out. Marvellous it was, even if we didn’t do any fishing.
With the school holidays upon us and my children here this year instead of France it had been difficult to get away. Abigail, my youngest, was a bit perturbed at not having been able to go to a competition like Eloise had a couple of years back so we decided to arrange one of our own; nothing serious but a bit of fun all the same and an excuse to get to the beach. Hopefully we’d find a few mackerel or sandeel, perhaps even a bass or two between us...
...Except the wind was looking pretty strong. Nothing we couldn’t handle ourselves but the children might struggle. Beautiful sunny weather though. A bit warm to drag four kayaks over Mount Steve but I was lucky to have help from some of the bunch that joined us; usual faces and various offspring even Martin’s wife.
Within minutes my girls were in the water enjoying the shore dump with some of the others, just playing in the waves at first while I chatted. Entry fee was sweets and I’d ran around trying to find some on a sunday morning, not the easiest thing while the shops were still shut and so we’d all ended up with larger bags than originally intended. Except it didn’t look like the kids could compete.
Andy landed then, had been out all morning with Ian and Gilly was out there somewhere as well. Reports were conclusive, there weren’t any bass playing. I had a quick troll to see if I could find anything and see how it was for the girls but the tide and wind were too much for the little folk out on the reefs. With that ascertained I decided to get mine on the water to see how they could cope if we drifted with feathers.
Abigail took her rigged Kea, Eloise my Tempo while I hopped into the Midway. Off we went and they were beaming. Alex and his daughter were on the water, Martin with his son in the tankwell and others here and there. We were soon downtide and downwind and paddling back, the odd seal popping up nearby.
With Abigail back on the beach Eloise wanted to practice re-entries and have a go on the Midway. She’s outgrown the Kea now and the Tetra isn’t the right boat for her so I was pleased she was coping alright with the Tempo. Kev was trialling his too and practising his own self-rescues so a race was proposed! Kev was quickest to get up and on but going straight back over the other side lost him the lead and Eloise was declared the winner! So pleased was she she jumped off and had a few more goes before we swapped kayaks.
Now, I tend to say that the Midway is a kayak for the more advanced paddler but it would appear that this isn’t quite accurate. Advanced paddlers and little girls. She had no problem whatsoever and both paddling and re-entries were easy enough. She even surfed it in on a straighter line than me on the Tempo!
Well, we tried fishing a few more times but it wasn’t suitable so the kids all played, we got some meat barbecuing, my cousin pitched up with her kids and eventually the sweets got shared out before we all headed back home after a long, hot and sunny day on the beach chilling out. Marvellous it was, even if we didn’t do any fishing.
Saturday, 19 July 2014
Oxwich Bay: Competing...19/07/2014
Oxwich Bay: Competing...19/07/2014
Having got released after a week of doing nothing on Jury service (straight after Runswick) at the cost of 1/3 or my months shifts (and pay) for minimal recompense from the court I was suddenly stuck. I had to go back to work but wouldn't finish until the Friday morning. This meant that I was now skinted and unable to pre-fish the bay. With the event planned as soon as it was announced I was gutted. However, I got a request to do some video stuff up there if I was going and with the promise of the free barbecue on the Saturday night, a huge prize table and a couple of small Premium Bonds coming through I reckoned I could justify dipping into the savings, especially as Shaun was still home and very willing to do the driving and split the costs as he fancied the weekend too. That was decided then!
We'd managed a bass on the Wednesday but things at home weren't looking all that great so Thursday saw us messing around with very light gear at Lake Lothing, from the shore, hoping for mullet and trying to identify a shoal that keeps feeding right at the water's edge in inches of water. I'd had some small smelt in my kiddies net - and a stickleback - so we went armed with some isome worm and had a play.
It was hard to get them, both of us missing our first bite and getting no more for ages. Twitching worked if you could land on the fish and finally one took the size 16...so they were bass then! I managed two and finally Shaun got his. We spotted some small mullet to but they were having none of it. Back home, sort gear out and get ready for the off!
I finished work, headed home and got a couple of hour’s kip. I was very nice to my wife, who had the day off which meant I could leave the house without worrying too much. Nice! Shaun arrived, we filled the van with fishing and camping gear and loaded the MidWay onto the roof as Ian had picked up the Tempo for Johnnie's brother to use as I didn't think I was going. So...I'd have no electronics. No matter, it was going to be good fun anyway; I wasn't too expectant as I'd only managed one species when I went five years ago.
Off we went, the first tractor hold-up within ten miles. We should have gone Diss-Bury-Duxford-Royston but took a punt on Norwich - Thetford only to find a road closure and then a jam on the alternative route. This put us in traffic at London too and the 7 hour drive ended up as 9 and we pulled in after a quick Chinese in a very scary Port Talbot at around 10:30 at night. That was the first nourishment since Cambridgeshire where we'd managed a quick thickshake and cheeseburger, the jelly babies having not made it out of Suffolk! It was a sweltering day and we roasted all the way to the £12:80 fine for using the Severn bridge; what a bore. We were tired and people were drifting off to bed so it was a short meet and greet before I jumped into Steve's spare tent (thanks mate!). Within ten minutes of getting my head down my cold required a nose blow which became a nose bleed of epic precautions following a week of paracetomol. All I had to hand was one of tomorrow's clean socks...
Awake too early I went and mugged someone for coffee and a bacon roll, as you do, before we headed for the queue at the car park. I found one, I found a lucky coin! Into the front hatch it went, it'd be a good day, Shaun was jealous, we weren't too far from the front and once the fella arrived we were in and unloading, grabbing sabikis and hokkais and lures and wedges and rods and reels and leads and shads and sandeels and rigs and and and. Then it was off to the tent to register before picking up the bait; mud rag and king rag.
Down on the beach at the start with Shaun, Martin, Mark, Jeff, Steve and Amos, an interloping Cuda and Scupper amongst the Tempos, Abaco and MidWay! Around us the beach filled up and then it was time for the briefing before an unhurried launch to get out and put the rigs on ready for fishing. I put my lucky pink/silver Warbird Minnow 12 on one rod as I planned a quick troll up the rocks first of all in the hope of bass and pollack and a size 6 sabiki rig on the other ready to drop down here and there.
In terms of gear I decided to fish light with a matched pair. My brand new Fladen Maxximus Nano Plus 7-25g 7ft spinning rods would give me power where needed and sensitivity for the smaller stuff. The 6bb Maxximus LP Magnet baitcasters and 40lb braid would supply the strength for cranking and would hold enough line while being low profile. The balance of these two is perfect and my favourite set up for summer use.
I found some sub-surface rocks and had a go down the side of them hoping to scratch something out. Nothing. I tried trolling, nothing. I tried getting tight into the little bays on the rocks; nothing. I got up near the point and decided to head deeper. Dave was there on his hobie and had caught two species so I dropped down...five minutes and first fish in the bag, a pollack! I unhooked it and went to take a photo - the camera strap was twisted around something and then while I waited for it to turn on my little yellow buddy decided to leap about and make a dash for freedom...an hour had passed and I'd lost a point like a fool, I could have cried!
This is what should have could have would have been:
I tried for pollack again for a while, drifting around near the deeper rocks but no joy. It was time for a move and a change of tactics. Out towards the centre but in the deeper water. There was a bit of tide here, could I get a gurnard? Hound ray or dog? Sabikis drifted down on a 4oz lead to the bottom on the left hand rod, a wishbone pinned down on the other with half a king rag and a squid head on one hook, half a king and a peeler on the other...I waited.
Tim and Pete turned up in a canoe with Pete filming and taking photos while Tim paddled and held station. They'd just moved off when I called them back, fish on! Point one came with a dogfish photographed and returned. I was off my marks! I showed them how I was fishing and baited up, cast the rod, badly, and the lead plopped down 2ft off the bow. It'll at least look like accurate casting on cue for the camera I'm sure but I thought I had almost killed him!
Then the Raymarine Hobie paddled up for a chat, told me there was a shoal of fish around me and as he said that my sabiki rod started bucking; Mackerel, full string of four! Job's a good 'un. Two points and fresh bait, down went a fillet for bass/tope/ray/whatever might take a shine to it but nothing did. Time was getting on; I decided to try a couple more drifts and then head for the wreck. I managed another mackerel before going, on a mud-rag baited sabiki.
Out on the wreck there was a cluster and a half but it was fishing well. I pulled up behind fellow RTM team member, AKA boy and Team M (me he and Mark for the day) Martin and started to fish. He was catching plenty and I was straight into point three, a pouting on mud rag and sabikis.
Point four in minutes, poor cod and very brightly coloured too!
Made me realise that I had them last year in the species hunt most legs…oops!
Martin moved off with Mark after the fella in front, hauling bream and pollack, had left and we'd failed to connect with them. I couldn't catch a fish for love nor money and was getting few bites but enjoying the spectacle of Lozz trying so so hard to get an inch-long fish on what were probably 16/0 sabikis! He may not like or understand targeting stuff that doesn't bend an 80lb class et-up to the butt but I think he was enjoying himself really. It's just a different challenge! The determination was hilarious: "That little ****** I’ll ****** have you you *******. He's pinched my ******* bait again the *******" was the kind of conversation I was enjoying for half an hour!
I decided that enough was enough, I wasn't catching, I'd pull up and try another bit of the wreck. I span myself, started to pull in and found the anchor was stuck fast. I decided to stay, locked off the anchor at the front six feet from where I'd been and dropped down. Straight in to poor cod after poor cod! It was so precise that I would put the line down, wait until it shifted about 2ft and then it'd go. Same on the other rod so I pulled one up, stuck on a string of 8 sabikis and fished one rod only for a while. These are too long though and a second disaster occurred when I had to fiddle to get a bream aboard; it dropped off. I cried again. Back to four and four. No more bream, still no Pollack though both were jumping onto hooks around me - and I'm talking feet away. Steve was into dragonets or pogge, which I would have loved but then my left rod rattled with the first wrasse, a corkwing. Yes! Number five.
Same rod, next drop, first ever rock goby! Six!
Five minutes and in comes my first ever Tompot Blenny, one of three...seven! And beautiful too, I could have had a lovely selection in my aquarium had I been closer.
Terry pitched up, he'd stopped fishing for a while to enjoy playing in the overfalls by the point, having a blast as he was off the usual freshwater. He was grinning!
Unlike some others who'd ventured too close and got sucked in. In fact, one of them was the guy on my Tempo...
"Snapper this is Valleybuoy, we've just rescued your kayak"
"Ain't me mate, leant it to a mate for his brother to use"
"We've got him he's okay"
"I don't care, he'll float, is my kayak okay?"
Cue an eruption of laughter around me! It was light-hearted, I knew he'd already been sorted out and was paddling in. Got to have the occasional funny transmission in a comp!
Gareth was with Terry, good to see him again and as we nattered I continued on the (numerous, constant) poor cod, tompots and wrasse with John the other side unable to scratch out a poor cod. Then came number eight, the first ballan! Brilliant!
Lozz returned, he'd been playing with the big hounds. Martin came back, said he was also on eight, John reckoned he was on that too, I was the only one telling the truth and they thought I was lying so told their own lies!
This is part and parcel of comps apparently but it was to have serious ramifications...with half an hour or so to go Martin decided to head in. He was 300 yards away by the time I'd sliced through my anchor warp and was chasing him to the beach!
I get close, there's Pete filming my landing...my nose hits the beach, I've gained on Martin but he's still got a couple of hundred yards head start...Pete opens his mouth:
"No time to talk, I've a competition to win!"
...and I'm legging it up the beach, across the sand, in boots, bib and brace, pfd and an empty belly, a screaming headache, dehydrated after someone ten years younger. I never could run either...I can see him smiling too! Behind me people are shouting encouragement, insults, laughing and I'm wasting oxygen shouting back and then I see Pete running behind me still filming; I'd better stop swearing then! I flag as I get to the top of the beach, start walking quick, he is too. He thinks he's lost me, I start to run again at the top and he runs too, I make it in behind me. "I thought you were lying, I'm on ten!" If I could breathe at that point I might have decked him!
Checking in, I'm placed well by the look of things, how well time will tell; I'm currently fourth, could have been should have been 2nd after the marathon man pipping me to the post (though i'd have left before that). Registered, we headed back to the beach to look for our kayaks and dragged them up the ramp to the cars. I stole water from Amos and returned to the beach. John had made it in with three minutes to spare on 10 or 11, would he take Martin? Yes, they gave him 11. I looked through; I was joint fourth in numbers on 8, seventh on the board after the time factor. Mark was on fifth having got in twenty minutes earlier but result! I'd got the same species count as him which to me, after chasing him all last year and knowing he was the specialist at this, was a real success. Earlier when asked I'd said I wanted seven, to hold my own and I'd managed to beat that too and also get on the prize table to boot so my weekend in terms of the competition was justified.
Well, Prize giving. Mingling around chatting with all my old mates, some met for the first time but known online, some new and the team from Palm and then it was into the prizes. Wooden spoon for a local (no idea why) …
…then 11th, 10th, ninth, 8th, Snapper...a Werner Tybee from System X (thank you very much gentlemen) handed over by Ed with a word of thanks as well as he knew how close I'd come to not being there…
...6th Keith, 5th Mark, 4th Tim Morgan, the first of the nine species, 3rd Cyril Cross, then Martin as runner up, holding up the AKA banner…
…to John on his eleven species, his poor cod coming after I left and right at the end, worth the gamble! Not convinced he wanted to win when he chucked his trophy at the ground!
Then onto the teams...stuck for a name I'd put 'M' on the sheet, our shared first initial. Somehow - and I deny any responsibility - this got written on the board as Team RTM, much to Mark's panicked dismay, being a Jackson boy! I figured it was Jeff, Amos and Shaun so hadn't twigged. I'm not certain but I think all three teams had the same points (it was combined species count rather than totals each added) with it decided again on time. Team OK came third, we were second - twenty quid apiece - and I’ve forgotten the name of the first placed team, sorry!
The Anglian boys had held their ground across the country!
Great stuff, now back to the campsite, the camera left to one side for tomorrow's fishing.
Out comes the San Miguel. Martin's off to the shower. Shaun looks at me, looks at him and says "What?" "I'm going for a shower" says Martin. Shaun looks again at me, his lower face red, the rest, covered with shades and hat being white, and, still confused, asks what he'd said. "He's from Essex". Shaun, satisfied, hands me another beer and we go for a mingle. Johnnie’s tent, my kayak is fine. His brother has dried out too. I ponce some cheesy biscuity nibbles then remember that Andy and Nick have invited me for cheese and wine...we make our excuses and leave. There they are, brie, dolcelatte and caerphilly, crackers, estrella (I don't do wine) grapes, olives and feta..."Tuck in, we aren't taking it back". Shaun's from Gorleston, he's almost as confused with Devon camping habits as he is with the Essex ones, but we tuck in all the same and while he turns his back I pounce on the dolcellate (he loves blue cheese) and eat the lot. The brie and caerphilly disappears rapidly too and then we're done. Like a smoothound pack on a crabby bank we empty the area and move on; we can smell that the barbecue is about ready and go a-grazing on absolutely top notch beef burgers followed by amazing pork burgers all washed down with more San Miguels. I was falling asleep, my night-shift timezone rebelling and forced myself to stay on my feet for the raffle by eating more pork burgers - no thanks, I don't want a roll thanks, that's carbs and they’re fattening, I'm Snapper and if you don't have to kill it you probably shouldn't eat it! Scalded fingers are a small price to pay for the body I had at twenty having kicked middle age spread into touch a couple of years back. I wish I'd not waited for the raffle though, my lucky coin had run out of power. I went to bed, leaving Shaun with the keg of ale in the tent!
A huge thank you to Ed and all the SWKA team for organising the best event I've been to, it really was great and I'm a definite for next year! Also a huge thanks to Palm, Escape, System X and all the other sponsors of the event and barbecue, it really was a fantastic input from you all.
Having got released after a week of doing nothing on Jury service (straight after Runswick) at the cost of 1/3 or my months shifts (and pay) for minimal recompense from the court I was suddenly stuck. I had to go back to work but wouldn't finish until the Friday morning. This meant that I was now skinted and unable to pre-fish the bay. With the event planned as soon as it was announced I was gutted. However, I got a request to do some video stuff up there if I was going and with the promise of the free barbecue on the Saturday night, a huge prize table and a couple of small Premium Bonds coming through I reckoned I could justify dipping into the savings, especially as Shaun was still home and very willing to do the driving and split the costs as he fancied the weekend too. That was decided then!
We'd managed a bass on the Wednesday but things at home weren't looking all that great so Thursday saw us messing around with very light gear at Lake Lothing, from the shore, hoping for mullet and trying to identify a shoal that keeps feeding right at the water's edge in inches of water. I'd had some small smelt in my kiddies net - and a stickleback - so we went armed with some isome worm and had a play.
It was hard to get them, both of us missing our first bite and getting no more for ages. Twitching worked if you could land on the fish and finally one took the size 16...so they were bass then! I managed two and finally Shaun got his. We spotted some small mullet to but they were having none of it. Back home, sort gear out and get ready for the off!
I finished work, headed home and got a couple of hour’s kip. I was very nice to my wife, who had the day off which meant I could leave the house without worrying too much. Nice! Shaun arrived, we filled the van with fishing and camping gear and loaded the MidWay onto the roof as Ian had picked up the Tempo for Johnnie's brother to use as I didn't think I was going. So...I'd have no electronics. No matter, it was going to be good fun anyway; I wasn't too expectant as I'd only managed one species when I went five years ago.
Off we went, the first tractor hold-up within ten miles. We should have gone Diss-Bury-Duxford-Royston but took a punt on Norwich - Thetford only to find a road closure and then a jam on the alternative route. This put us in traffic at London too and the 7 hour drive ended up as 9 and we pulled in after a quick Chinese in a very scary Port Talbot at around 10:30 at night. That was the first nourishment since Cambridgeshire where we'd managed a quick thickshake and cheeseburger, the jelly babies having not made it out of Suffolk! It was a sweltering day and we roasted all the way to the £12:80 fine for using the Severn bridge; what a bore. We were tired and people were drifting off to bed so it was a short meet and greet before I jumped into Steve's spare tent (thanks mate!). Within ten minutes of getting my head down my cold required a nose blow which became a nose bleed of epic precautions following a week of paracetomol. All I had to hand was one of tomorrow's clean socks...
Awake too early I went and mugged someone for coffee and a bacon roll, as you do, before we headed for the queue at the car park. I found one, I found a lucky coin! Into the front hatch it went, it'd be a good day, Shaun was jealous, we weren't too far from the front and once the fella arrived we were in and unloading, grabbing sabikis and hokkais and lures and wedges and rods and reels and leads and shads and sandeels and rigs and and and. Then it was off to the tent to register before picking up the bait; mud rag and king rag.
Down on the beach at the start with Shaun, Martin, Mark, Jeff, Steve and Amos, an interloping Cuda and Scupper amongst the Tempos, Abaco and MidWay! Around us the beach filled up and then it was time for the briefing before an unhurried launch to get out and put the rigs on ready for fishing. I put my lucky pink/silver Warbird Minnow 12 on one rod as I planned a quick troll up the rocks first of all in the hope of bass and pollack and a size 6 sabiki rig on the other ready to drop down here and there.
In terms of gear I decided to fish light with a matched pair. My brand new Fladen Maxximus Nano Plus 7-25g 7ft spinning rods would give me power where needed and sensitivity for the smaller stuff. The 6bb Maxximus LP Magnet baitcasters and 40lb braid would supply the strength for cranking and would hold enough line while being low profile. The balance of these two is perfect and my favourite set up for summer use.
I found some sub-surface rocks and had a go down the side of them hoping to scratch something out. Nothing. I tried trolling, nothing. I tried getting tight into the little bays on the rocks; nothing. I got up near the point and decided to head deeper. Dave was there on his hobie and had caught two species so I dropped down...five minutes and first fish in the bag, a pollack! I unhooked it and went to take a photo - the camera strap was twisted around something and then while I waited for it to turn on my little yellow buddy decided to leap about and make a dash for freedom...an hour had passed and I'd lost a point like a fool, I could have cried!
This is what should have could have would have been:
I tried for pollack again for a while, drifting around near the deeper rocks but no joy. It was time for a move and a change of tactics. Out towards the centre but in the deeper water. There was a bit of tide here, could I get a gurnard? Hound ray or dog? Sabikis drifted down on a 4oz lead to the bottom on the left hand rod, a wishbone pinned down on the other with half a king rag and a squid head on one hook, half a king and a peeler on the other...I waited.
Tim and Pete turned up in a canoe with Pete filming and taking photos while Tim paddled and held station. They'd just moved off when I called them back, fish on! Point one came with a dogfish photographed and returned. I was off my marks! I showed them how I was fishing and baited up, cast the rod, badly, and the lead plopped down 2ft off the bow. It'll at least look like accurate casting on cue for the camera I'm sure but I thought I had almost killed him!
Then the Raymarine Hobie paddled up for a chat, told me there was a shoal of fish around me and as he said that my sabiki rod started bucking; Mackerel, full string of four! Job's a good 'un. Two points and fresh bait, down went a fillet for bass/tope/ray/whatever might take a shine to it but nothing did. Time was getting on; I decided to try a couple more drifts and then head for the wreck. I managed another mackerel before going, on a mud-rag baited sabiki.
Out on the wreck there was a cluster and a half but it was fishing well. I pulled up behind fellow RTM team member, AKA boy and Team M (me he and Mark for the day) Martin and started to fish. He was catching plenty and I was straight into point three, a pouting on mud rag and sabikis.
Point four in minutes, poor cod and very brightly coloured too!
Made me realise that I had them last year in the species hunt most legs…oops!
Martin moved off with Mark after the fella in front, hauling bream and pollack, had left and we'd failed to connect with them. I couldn't catch a fish for love nor money and was getting few bites but enjoying the spectacle of Lozz trying so so hard to get an inch-long fish on what were probably 16/0 sabikis! He may not like or understand targeting stuff that doesn't bend an 80lb class et-up to the butt but I think he was enjoying himself really. It's just a different challenge! The determination was hilarious: "That little ****** I’ll ****** have you you *******. He's pinched my ******* bait again the *******" was the kind of conversation I was enjoying for half an hour!
I decided that enough was enough, I wasn't catching, I'd pull up and try another bit of the wreck. I span myself, started to pull in and found the anchor was stuck fast. I decided to stay, locked off the anchor at the front six feet from where I'd been and dropped down. Straight in to poor cod after poor cod! It was so precise that I would put the line down, wait until it shifted about 2ft and then it'd go. Same on the other rod so I pulled one up, stuck on a string of 8 sabikis and fished one rod only for a while. These are too long though and a second disaster occurred when I had to fiddle to get a bream aboard; it dropped off. I cried again. Back to four and four. No more bream, still no Pollack though both were jumping onto hooks around me - and I'm talking feet away. Steve was into dragonets or pogge, which I would have loved but then my left rod rattled with the first wrasse, a corkwing. Yes! Number five.
Same rod, next drop, first ever rock goby! Six!
Five minutes and in comes my first ever Tompot Blenny, one of three...seven! And beautiful too, I could have had a lovely selection in my aquarium had I been closer.
Terry pitched up, he'd stopped fishing for a while to enjoy playing in the overfalls by the point, having a blast as he was off the usual freshwater. He was grinning!
Unlike some others who'd ventured too close and got sucked in. In fact, one of them was the guy on my Tempo...
"Snapper this is Valleybuoy, we've just rescued your kayak"
"Ain't me mate, leant it to a mate for his brother to use"
"We've got him he's okay"
"I don't care, he'll float, is my kayak okay?"
Cue an eruption of laughter around me! It was light-hearted, I knew he'd already been sorted out and was paddling in. Got to have the occasional funny transmission in a comp!
Gareth was with Terry, good to see him again and as we nattered I continued on the (numerous, constant) poor cod, tompots and wrasse with John the other side unable to scratch out a poor cod. Then came number eight, the first ballan! Brilliant!
Lozz returned, he'd been playing with the big hounds. Martin came back, said he was also on eight, John reckoned he was on that too, I was the only one telling the truth and they thought I was lying so told their own lies!
This is part and parcel of comps apparently but it was to have serious ramifications...with half an hour or so to go Martin decided to head in. He was 300 yards away by the time I'd sliced through my anchor warp and was chasing him to the beach!
I get close, there's Pete filming my landing...my nose hits the beach, I've gained on Martin but he's still got a couple of hundred yards head start...Pete opens his mouth:
"No time to talk, I've a competition to win!"
...and I'm legging it up the beach, across the sand, in boots, bib and brace, pfd and an empty belly, a screaming headache, dehydrated after someone ten years younger. I never could run either...I can see him smiling too! Behind me people are shouting encouragement, insults, laughing and I'm wasting oxygen shouting back and then I see Pete running behind me still filming; I'd better stop swearing then! I flag as I get to the top of the beach, start walking quick, he is too. He thinks he's lost me, I start to run again at the top and he runs too, I make it in behind me. "I thought you were lying, I'm on ten!" If I could breathe at that point I might have decked him!
Checking in, I'm placed well by the look of things, how well time will tell; I'm currently fourth, could have been should have been 2nd after the marathon man pipping me to the post (though i'd have left before that). Registered, we headed back to the beach to look for our kayaks and dragged them up the ramp to the cars. I stole water from Amos and returned to the beach. John had made it in with three minutes to spare on 10 or 11, would he take Martin? Yes, they gave him 11. I looked through; I was joint fourth in numbers on 8, seventh on the board after the time factor. Mark was on fifth having got in twenty minutes earlier but result! I'd got the same species count as him which to me, after chasing him all last year and knowing he was the specialist at this, was a real success. Earlier when asked I'd said I wanted seven, to hold my own and I'd managed to beat that too and also get on the prize table to boot so my weekend in terms of the competition was justified.
Well, Prize giving. Mingling around chatting with all my old mates, some met for the first time but known online, some new and the team from Palm and then it was into the prizes. Wooden spoon for a local (no idea why) …
…then 11th, 10th, ninth, 8th, Snapper...a Werner Tybee from System X (thank you very much gentlemen) handed over by Ed with a word of thanks as well as he knew how close I'd come to not being there…
...6th Keith, 5th Mark, 4th Tim Morgan, the first of the nine species, 3rd Cyril Cross, then Martin as runner up, holding up the AKA banner…
…to John on his eleven species, his poor cod coming after I left and right at the end, worth the gamble! Not convinced he wanted to win when he chucked his trophy at the ground!
Then onto the teams...stuck for a name I'd put 'M' on the sheet, our shared first initial. Somehow - and I deny any responsibility - this got written on the board as Team RTM, much to Mark's panicked dismay, being a Jackson boy! I figured it was Jeff, Amos and Shaun so hadn't twigged. I'm not certain but I think all three teams had the same points (it was combined species count rather than totals each added) with it decided again on time. Team OK came third, we were second - twenty quid apiece - and I’ve forgotten the name of the first placed team, sorry!
The Anglian boys had held their ground across the country!
Great stuff, now back to the campsite, the camera left to one side for tomorrow's fishing.
Out comes the San Miguel. Martin's off to the shower. Shaun looks at me, looks at him and says "What?" "I'm going for a shower" says Martin. Shaun looks again at me, his lower face red, the rest, covered with shades and hat being white, and, still confused, asks what he'd said. "He's from Essex". Shaun, satisfied, hands me another beer and we go for a mingle. Johnnie’s tent, my kayak is fine. His brother has dried out too. I ponce some cheesy biscuity nibbles then remember that Andy and Nick have invited me for cheese and wine...we make our excuses and leave. There they are, brie, dolcelatte and caerphilly, crackers, estrella (I don't do wine) grapes, olives and feta..."Tuck in, we aren't taking it back". Shaun's from Gorleston, he's almost as confused with Devon camping habits as he is with the Essex ones, but we tuck in all the same and while he turns his back I pounce on the dolcellate (he loves blue cheese) and eat the lot. The brie and caerphilly disappears rapidly too and then we're done. Like a smoothound pack on a crabby bank we empty the area and move on; we can smell that the barbecue is about ready and go a-grazing on absolutely top notch beef burgers followed by amazing pork burgers all washed down with more San Miguels. I was falling asleep, my night-shift timezone rebelling and forced myself to stay on my feet for the raffle by eating more pork burgers - no thanks, I don't want a roll thanks, that's carbs and they’re fattening, I'm Snapper and if you don't have to kill it you probably shouldn't eat it! Scalded fingers are a small price to pay for the body I had at twenty having kicked middle age spread into touch a couple of years back. I wish I'd not waited for the raffle though, my lucky coin had run out of power. I went to bed, leaving Shaun with the keg of ale in the tent!
A huge thank you to Ed and all the SWKA team for organising the best event I've been to, it really was great and I'm a definite for next year! Also a huge thanks to Palm, Escape, System X and all the other sponsors of the event and barbecue, it really was a fantastic input from you all.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)