Andy 1965
Well-known member
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2020
- Messages
- 370
- Reaction score
- 3,401
- Points
- 93
- Location
- North Wales
- Favourite Fishing
- Lure
With Christmas now a rapidly fading memory, it was time last night to get my 2022 fishing underway. Having struggled on the conger front as usual in 2021 though, I didn’t really fancy starting the New Year with a rock session, so I decided to target coalies, rays and maybe an early bass instead. My chosen mark was one where I would still be fishing off a rocky platform, but I would be casting onto clean sand rather than the rough stuff, and conger were pretty far from my mind.
Though the strong Northerly winds of the past few days were forecast to drop completely by the evening, I hoped there would still be some residual swell, I was however a little disappointed when I arrived to find calmer conditions than I would have liked. At least the water was still nicely coloured, so I was still feeling quietly confident.
Once I found a suitable vantage point, my first rod was rigged with a 2-hook flapper, baited with a lug & squid cocktail on one hook and a sandeel on the other, this was then cast to just behind the breakers, where I hoped the bass and coalies would be hunting. The second rod was then rigged with a pulley dropped, armed with pennel rigged 4/0s and baited with a whole squid, this was then cast to maximum range, where I hoped the rays might be searching for food. With the traps all set, I then sat back to wait for the action to start.
Things were quiet for the first hour, but as the depth gradually increased, I saw the first signs of life, I then finally got off the mark with a decent sized whiting, perfect bait if the rays didn’t respond to the squid ?.
Soon after this I landed the second whiting of the night and this was followed soon after by the first real excitement.
Having been busy baiting up spare rigs, I hadn’t noticed any bites, but I suddenly spotted that the line on the flapper rod had dropped completely slack! ? I immediately picked it up and started to reel it in, but incredibly it took me at least 20 turns of the reel before I finally made contact with my gear again. To begin with it didn’t feel particularly heavy, so I assumed that whatever was responsible for the bite had dropped the bait, but gradually I felt the weight on the line increase and I realised the culprit was in fact still there. The fish had obviously tired itself out dragging a 6oz gripper all around the beach ? and the fight was nothing to write home about, but I was soon pleasantly surprised when a very decent coalie surfaced below me in the light from my headlamp ?.
With the tide still quite low, I was fishing from a few meters above the water but my 30lb mainline was more than up to the job, so I reeled my catch gently upwards and I was just about to grab hold of the rig body when the fish just let go of the hook ?. I was then powerless to do anything other than watch helplessly, as what would surely have been a new PB and a tasty meal for the family, bounced off several rocky steps before landing back in the murky water below me with a splash and immediately swimming off ?.
I was of course gutted but there was nothing I could do about it, so after a minute or two to re-bait I cast out again, hoping there might be more than one coalie about.
The next 45 minutes were a bit quiet again, so I swapped the squid bait on the pulley dropper for a nice juicy whiting fillet, hoping that it might appeal more to the rays. There was also the added bonus that it would also stand up longer to the crabs, which had now started attacking my baits. Despite this change, it was the smaller baits which accounted for the next fish of the evening, as a series of tell-tale bouncy bites, resulted in a double header of dogs on the flapper rig.
Things were obviously picking up now though, and I had barely cast the flapper out again when something took an interest in my whiting fillet. To begin with a series of gentle pulls suggested that a herd of dogs might have moved into the bay, hoovering up any food they could find, but over the next few minutes the bite developed into something completely different. The pulls quickly became more urgent, until after a few minutes the line began to trickle off against the moderately set drag. Judging that the whiting muncher had a decent hold of the bait by now, I picked up the rod and tightened down the drag, before lifting the rod high to set the hooks.
At this point I encountered just a solid resistance, as whatever had my bait refused to move, and my first thought was a very decent ray, but after some continued steady pressure I got the thing up off the bottom. It could of course still have been a ray, but a series of heavy nods and headshakes now suggested something different, and my suspicions grew that it might in fact be a huss ?. If this was true, then it had to be a bloody big one, as it showed no signs of giving up. Eventually, after much struggling and gnashing of teeth, from me not the fish ?, I dragged the offender closer until it eventually surfaced a few meters below me. I was now very pleasantly surprised to see that it was in fact a very substantial conger! Bigger in fact than any I’ve ever caught before!! ?
My next problem was how to get the thing up to where I was standing for a closer look, as with 25lb braid mainline and a 40lb Amnesia snood, it just wasn’t practical to simply lift it. Fortunately for me though, when I first arrived at the mark I had considered just what to do if this problem had arisen with my original target of a big ray, and I just happened to have spotted a series of ledges from where I could get closer to the water.
With my plan hatched, I decided to try and time it with a swell and to strand the beast on a lower ledge, from where I could then safely retrieve it. As it turned out, this was easier said than done and it took me several minutes as the eel was swept backwards and forwards in the surging water. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity I succeeded, and the eel lay marooned just above the water ?. Despite this, the struggle still wasn’t over as the larger swells were just reaching the ledge where the conger lay, but at least the beast seemed to have calmed down for the time being.
Taking great care in choosing a safe spot where it couldn’t fall off, I now placed my rod on the rocks, and holding the mainline tightly I climbed down to the step directly above the eel. From here I was finally able to grab the rig body, consisting of 60lb mono, so at least I felt a bit more in control. Incredibly though, as soon as I tried to lift the eel the unthinkable happened and the hook snood snapped!! ?
With the possibility of a bigger swell at any moment, there was no time to lose and I had to do something quickly, so acting purely on instinct I leapt down next to the eel, I then grabbed it by the gills and immediately jumped back up to the safety of my original ledge. Once there I felt a massive sense of relief, but this was only fleeting as I was immediately confronted by the question of what the hell did I do now? ?
Ordinarily, the short climb back up to base camp wouldn’t have been a problem, but with one hand trying to hold on to a very angry snake, and the fact that I was wearing wellies rather than my usual walking boots, it wouldn’t be quite so easy. The next 5 minutes were spent trying to find a suitable foothold, with enough grip to enable me to push myself upwards to a higher ledge, but no matter how many spots I tried, none of them were prominent enough to take my weight, or close enough to enable me to reach a suitable handhold at the same time
.
It was now time for plan X ? and I would have to try something else, but before I could even think of anything to do, and completely without warning, the conger twisted violently and unbelievably I lost my grip!!! ? Instinctively, I tried to pin it against the rocks with my legs, but it was just too heavy and slippery to hold on to and in what seemed like ultra-slow motion, it slid down the rocks and into the murky water, where it disappeared with a flick of its broad tail ?.
After the bedlam and excitement of the last 10 – 15 minutes, the world seemed to stand completely still now and apart from the sound of my heart pounding in my chest, the silence was almost deafening. I was of course absolutely gutted and after what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no more than a couple of minutes, I clambered back up to the main ledge, all too easy when I wasn’t attached to a 5ft+ angry beast of an eel ?.
After 10 minutes to gather my thoughts, I rigged up the rod again and this time I was taking no chances. The 25lb braid was replaced with a spool of 50lb and instead of the pulley dropper, 40lb snood and 4/0 hooks, a running ledger consisting of 200lb mono armed with an 8/0 was tied on. This was then baited with a fresh whiting fillet and lobbed a few meters out from shore. This was of course just wishful thinking, and the probability of there being another snake in the vicinity was almost non-existent, but I had to try ?.
The rest of the session was quiet in comparison and the large bait remained completely untouched. The flapper rod was also relatively quiet and only accounted for another 2 whiting and a dropped doggie.
I didn’t really care though, and I spent the last 90 minutes of the session replaying the earlier events over and over in my mind. I thought about what I could have done differently but given the situation, the fact that I wasn’t actually geared up for conger fishing, and even with the benefit of hindsight, I decided that I had probably done everything I could.
Despite my massive disappointment, the fact remained that I had still caught a new PB conger after 7 years of trying, so I should really be happy with my first session of the year, but not knowing the exact weight of my catch and the lack of any photos to look back on has put a real dampener on the evening and left me with mixed emotions. There’s no doubt in my mind that the conger was over 15lb in weight, beating my previous PB by a couple of pounds at least, but though I don’t think it was a 20lber, I’ll never know for sure
.
Though the strong Northerly winds of the past few days were forecast to drop completely by the evening, I hoped there would still be some residual swell, I was however a little disappointed when I arrived to find calmer conditions than I would have liked. At least the water was still nicely coloured, so I was still feeling quietly confident.
Once I found a suitable vantage point, my first rod was rigged with a 2-hook flapper, baited with a lug & squid cocktail on one hook and a sandeel on the other, this was then cast to just behind the breakers, where I hoped the bass and coalies would be hunting. The second rod was then rigged with a pulley dropped, armed with pennel rigged 4/0s and baited with a whole squid, this was then cast to maximum range, where I hoped the rays might be searching for food. With the traps all set, I then sat back to wait for the action to start.
Things were quiet for the first hour, but as the depth gradually increased, I saw the first signs of life, I then finally got off the mark with a decent sized whiting, perfect bait if the rays didn’t respond to the squid ?.
Soon after this I landed the second whiting of the night and this was followed soon after by the first real excitement.
Having been busy baiting up spare rigs, I hadn’t noticed any bites, but I suddenly spotted that the line on the flapper rod had dropped completely slack! ? I immediately picked it up and started to reel it in, but incredibly it took me at least 20 turns of the reel before I finally made contact with my gear again. To begin with it didn’t feel particularly heavy, so I assumed that whatever was responsible for the bite had dropped the bait, but gradually I felt the weight on the line increase and I realised the culprit was in fact still there. The fish had obviously tired itself out dragging a 6oz gripper all around the beach ? and the fight was nothing to write home about, but I was soon pleasantly surprised when a very decent coalie surfaced below me in the light from my headlamp ?.
With the tide still quite low, I was fishing from a few meters above the water but my 30lb mainline was more than up to the job, so I reeled my catch gently upwards and I was just about to grab hold of the rig body when the fish just let go of the hook ?. I was then powerless to do anything other than watch helplessly, as what would surely have been a new PB and a tasty meal for the family, bounced off several rocky steps before landing back in the murky water below me with a splash and immediately swimming off ?.
I was of course gutted but there was nothing I could do about it, so after a minute or two to re-bait I cast out again, hoping there might be more than one coalie about.
The next 45 minutes were a bit quiet again, so I swapped the squid bait on the pulley dropper for a nice juicy whiting fillet, hoping that it might appeal more to the rays. There was also the added bonus that it would also stand up longer to the crabs, which had now started attacking my baits. Despite this change, it was the smaller baits which accounted for the next fish of the evening, as a series of tell-tale bouncy bites, resulted in a double header of dogs on the flapper rig.
Things were obviously picking up now though, and I had barely cast the flapper out again when something took an interest in my whiting fillet. To begin with a series of gentle pulls suggested that a herd of dogs might have moved into the bay, hoovering up any food they could find, but over the next few minutes the bite developed into something completely different. The pulls quickly became more urgent, until after a few minutes the line began to trickle off against the moderately set drag. Judging that the whiting muncher had a decent hold of the bait by now, I picked up the rod and tightened down the drag, before lifting the rod high to set the hooks.
At this point I encountered just a solid resistance, as whatever had my bait refused to move, and my first thought was a very decent ray, but after some continued steady pressure I got the thing up off the bottom. It could of course still have been a ray, but a series of heavy nods and headshakes now suggested something different, and my suspicions grew that it might in fact be a huss ?. If this was true, then it had to be a bloody big one, as it showed no signs of giving up. Eventually, after much struggling and gnashing of teeth, from me not the fish ?, I dragged the offender closer until it eventually surfaced a few meters below me. I was now very pleasantly surprised to see that it was in fact a very substantial conger! Bigger in fact than any I’ve ever caught before!! ?
My next problem was how to get the thing up to where I was standing for a closer look, as with 25lb braid mainline and a 40lb Amnesia snood, it just wasn’t practical to simply lift it. Fortunately for me though, when I first arrived at the mark I had considered just what to do if this problem had arisen with my original target of a big ray, and I just happened to have spotted a series of ledges from where I could get closer to the water.
With my plan hatched, I decided to try and time it with a swell and to strand the beast on a lower ledge, from where I could then safely retrieve it. As it turned out, this was easier said than done and it took me several minutes as the eel was swept backwards and forwards in the surging water. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity I succeeded, and the eel lay marooned just above the water ?. Despite this, the struggle still wasn’t over as the larger swells were just reaching the ledge where the conger lay, but at least the beast seemed to have calmed down for the time being.
Taking great care in choosing a safe spot where it couldn’t fall off, I now placed my rod on the rocks, and holding the mainline tightly I climbed down to the step directly above the eel. From here I was finally able to grab the rig body, consisting of 60lb mono, so at least I felt a bit more in control. Incredibly though, as soon as I tried to lift the eel the unthinkable happened and the hook snood snapped!! ?
With the possibility of a bigger swell at any moment, there was no time to lose and I had to do something quickly, so acting purely on instinct I leapt down next to the eel, I then grabbed it by the gills and immediately jumped back up to the safety of my original ledge. Once there I felt a massive sense of relief, but this was only fleeting as I was immediately confronted by the question of what the hell did I do now? ?
Ordinarily, the short climb back up to base camp wouldn’t have been a problem, but with one hand trying to hold on to a very angry snake, and the fact that I was wearing wellies rather than my usual walking boots, it wouldn’t be quite so easy. The next 5 minutes were spent trying to find a suitable foothold, with enough grip to enable me to push myself upwards to a higher ledge, but no matter how many spots I tried, none of them were prominent enough to take my weight, or close enough to enable me to reach a suitable handhold at the same time
.It was now time for plan X ? and I would have to try something else, but before I could even think of anything to do, and completely without warning, the conger twisted violently and unbelievably I lost my grip!!! ? Instinctively, I tried to pin it against the rocks with my legs, but it was just too heavy and slippery to hold on to and in what seemed like ultra-slow motion, it slid down the rocks and into the murky water, where it disappeared with a flick of its broad tail ?.
After the bedlam and excitement of the last 10 – 15 minutes, the world seemed to stand completely still now and apart from the sound of my heart pounding in my chest, the silence was almost deafening. I was of course absolutely gutted and after what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no more than a couple of minutes, I clambered back up to the main ledge, all too easy when I wasn’t attached to a 5ft+ angry beast of an eel ?.
After 10 minutes to gather my thoughts, I rigged up the rod again and this time I was taking no chances. The 25lb braid was replaced with a spool of 50lb and instead of the pulley dropper, 40lb snood and 4/0 hooks, a running ledger consisting of 200lb mono armed with an 8/0 was tied on. This was then baited with a fresh whiting fillet and lobbed a few meters out from shore. This was of course just wishful thinking, and the probability of there being another snake in the vicinity was almost non-existent, but I had to try ?.
The rest of the session was quiet in comparison and the large bait remained completely untouched. The flapper rod was also relatively quiet and only accounted for another 2 whiting and a dropped doggie.
I didn’t really care though, and I spent the last 90 minutes of the session replaying the earlier events over and over in my mind. I thought about what I could have done differently but given the situation, the fact that I wasn’t actually geared up for conger fishing, and even with the benefit of hindsight, I decided that I had probably done everything I could.
Despite my massive disappointment, the fact remained that I had still caught a new PB conger after 7 years of trying, so I should really be happy with my first session of the year, but not knowing the exact weight of my catch and the lack of any photos to look back on has put a real dampener on the evening and left me with mixed emotions. There’s no doubt in my mind that the conger was over 15lb in weight, beating my previous PB by a couple of pounds at least, but though I don’t think it was a 20lber, I’ll never know for sure
.
