CKB
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2020
- Messages
- 246
- Reaction score
- 1,578
- Points
- 93
- Location
- Channel Islands
- Favourite Fishing
- Shore
Before coming to Sark, I have had conversations with various people about the prospect of tope from the shore and almost all answers, including from local island fisherman have yielded the same answer; from the boat yes, they are 500 - 1000 yards out of the east side. From the shore, nobody has ever had one. One pal says he hooked one at close range but, couldn't land it. Another fishing buddy, Rob Yorke, gave me the news I wanted to hear on the day of this session. He had indeed hooked and landed tope on a trip to the island years ago, and the reason he knew to target the was that he and a pal saw them swimming in broad daylight right by the harbour. This was music to my ears, all the encouragement I needed to put some serious hours into finding these streamlined, fast-swimming fish.
Since arriving on the island; I have made it my vocation to find bait, as I arrived with none. So my previous reports have been using light gear intending to fill my freezer with squid for the upcoming 10m spring tides in the coming days. I looked at the weather before this session and it looked seriously windy, which meant the east side of the island would be my only option, and I needed more squid and pollock for the table, so Maseline Harbour made sense to me. There is a nice mix of sand and rough ground opposite, a good depth and a strong tidal run at times. I would think it's possible to find 30+ species from this venue alone if you know what you are doing. I was a little tired and reluctant given the strong winds but, I gradually packed my gear with one beach caster (Century Eliminator T1200, which was brand new unused and I was itching to have a cast with), a carp rod (for bream) and my Daiwa LRF rod which is getting a bit too much use lately.
The forecast was dry all night, so I packed the down jacket, and a warm hoody, put my headphones in and trudged off down the muddy, track fringed by old stone walls. The choice of listening was motivational stuff from youtube I'd downloaded, I listen to this sort of stuff quite a bit, as I believe what is going into your head is reflected in your thoughts and personality. About half way there I began to ponder, who else would bother, its 9:30pm, a miserable time of year, I am alone, which makes the motivation to go and see out a long session harder to summon. Then whilst listening to a Denzel Washington speech he said some words that really made a lot of sense. He went through the usual platitudes that celebs use, like "if it was easy, everyone would do it" but, then he really struck a chord, saying something like "You have to imagine at the end of your life you're presented with the ghosts of all of your dreams, they are all asking you why you ignored them, why you wasted opportunity and talent." It instantly reminded me of the 70's Papillon film with Steve MacQueen, for those who haven't seen it, he is framed for a crime he didn't commit and sent to the French penal colony of Guiana. There is this scene, a dreamscape while he sleeps where he is in front of a judge who taps his hammer and says "you are guilty of the crime of a wasted life".
Then my mind flipped to the Aristotle who talks about the ancient Olympic games in ancient Greece, he says something like; it is not the most talented or the strongest who succeed, it is those who dare to enter the list. A paced down the hill thinking that I am exactly where I should be and that I should pull an all-nighter fishing and chasing the fish on my dreams.
I setup around 9:45pm, first lobbing the bream rod out, followed by the squid rod. I was missing bream taps as I busily tried to setup the T1200 and it was pretty frustrating, a short time later I picked up a dogfish and retired the bream rod, it was too labour intensive, with catching squid and tending to the big bait rod being my priorities and anybody knows bream fishing is like bassing, you have to be right on rods, touch legering even, if you wish to do it well. I had my first chuck with the T1200 and it's a god damn rocket launcher, I didn't find it heavy, it was a nice length and it really sent larger baits with ease. At the point that first big bait hit the water, I finally felt I was doing some proper fishing again, there was something really satisfying and exciting about it. I grabbed the LRF rod and hauled in the squid jig, as not much was happening. I swapped it over for a metal jig and began looking for a pollock or scad, within a short time a pollock obliged, tearing line off my reel in a short fight which resulted in a nice dinner-sized pollock being popped in my bucket for a meal the following day. I have to say, the difference between fresh pollock and supermarket pollock is huge, it always seems to have a bad taste when I've bought it, likely because of age. But, cooking it up fresh, oven baking it, it's really marvellous eating. My diet has never been worse than it was in India and being back here it's wonderful eating fresh fish daily and sourcing my veg from the farmer opposite my cottage, I feel so much healthier for it.
I suddenly heard the clicking of the drag on my Saltist fixed spool and something was taking line. A smile crept across my face, it had been so long since i'd been fishing 'big bait or bust' and it's certainly my favourite way to fish. I climbed up on the tyres by the wall and got ready to hit the next bite and as quick as that, I was into a half-decent fish. The single circle hook with huss in mind had worked well and I was gradually guiding a fish through the water columns until it breached the surface 3-40 yards out, and sure enough, it was a bull huss. I'd done the right thing rigging my net beforehand, it's 5ft across and is set to barely float, I had tethered it to a post to my side so it was just floating in the tide and could easily be pulled into position when a fish was close. When you're fishing alone with an awkward landing situation, you really need to get the theory right before you hook the fish. I gazed down at the dark mottled huss, perhaps 20ft or more beneath me and with one pull of the rod it slipped into the net easily enough, I opened the bail arm, dumped the rod on the floor to my left and hauled the fish and net up to the breakwater. I remember thinking after so long of not fishing, that my hands are so soft, they are going to need to toughen up I thought, as the abrasive Polypropylene rope burned my palms.
After a quick weigh, unhooking and release, I slipped the 9lb 3oz huss back in the drink from the harbour steps. Not a bad start, I thought.
The following cast I hooked a similar-sized fish, maybe a little bigger and carefully played it to 2ft of the net when it performed a masterful houdini act at the last minute and coughed my hook out and it was gone. I tend to analyze these moments and stew on them usually but, in this case, nothing could have been done differently, it was just one of those things.
This is where the night took a bad turn, the forecast was dry all night with strong winds and it started to rain, at first spitting and then gradually getting heavier. The wind couldn't make up its mind which way it was blowing and rain invariably was in the face, no matter which way you looked, possibly the reaction it deflecting off cliffs and swirling around. I had waterproof salopettes on but, I took my down jacket which started to get very heavy and damp. I was plenty warm enough but, it sort of reminded me of a day I bunked off school with a pal and we really picked the wrong weather, the pair of us sat in one of those Bournemouth overcliff shelters wishing we'd gone to school as we froze our nuts off in Umbro jackets. So, that rain went on for 2 hours or more and I have to say it dampened the spirits a little and accentuated any tiredness.
Next, I had a good double tap on the rod, followed by a short blast on the drag and I quickly hooked into another fish but, this one was a bit trickier as it had gone right, which meant I had to climb up on the wet slippy wall (5 1/2ft high) and walk along with the fish thrashing beneath me in the darkness. The wall has a gradient that slopes toward the sea and all the time I was doing this I was trying to focus on balance, ie if the fish came free I needed to make sure I didn't go flying and if it lunged hard, I needed to make sure I wasn't going for a swim in the black abyss of 13m or so below me. I am no trapeze artist and it wasn't much fun but, I had a stroke of luck in the fact when I turned the corner the net was in the perfect position to slide the fish in and it was an easy landing.
This one was slightly better at 10lb 6oz and was soon off back swimming to the deep. I was pretty happy with the first double of the trip and wondered what was up next. After hurling another big bait out, I was messing about with the squid rod and quickly was into a decent sized squid which slipped into the net ok after being sat on the rim for a second or two like a seesaw. I then cast back out and got another smaller one, which was hanging by just one long tentacle, very lucky indeed.
This next one was small but, beautiful. Natures great design.
The big bait rod was soon again going and a bit sweaty now, with the rain having stopped, I had another huss on and was hauling it up, a lesser stamp than earlier, relatively easy landing and it went 7lb 5oz, it had some lovely markings if not a bit; Dorian from 'Birds of a feather'.
A face only a mother could love... I dread tangle ups like this when hands are sore and cold.
I then hooked a really nice huss, it looked a great size, though not a PB, this one gave me some jip on the harbour wall tightrope walk, only to roll off the hooks 2ft from the net. They are bloody experts at doing that and to be honest, part of me was relieved I was off the wall and on a nice flat platform again. I then lost another squid around 3lb on the surface just shy of being in the net, would have been some nice bait or eating but, I was pretty ambivalent about it, as I'd had a pretty good session so far.
At this point I didn't realise I had peaked, there was a hint of light in the sky to the east just poking through the black clouds on the horizon, which all looked pretty foreboding, I wondered if there'd be more rain or not. I was pretty fatigued by this point and ready for the trudge back up the hill to the cottage. I was again tinkering about with squid jigs when I had a god pull-down and dead weight, then came the water jets firing as a decent squid dived for survival, it was a whopper too on the LRF rod. The net was in a good position and I slowly guided the squid into the net, and began to haul it up the side of the wall. This creature was a really good size, 44cm I measured while in the net. Just as I was doing this I hear a blast of drag clicker on the big bait rod behind me. I assume its another huss and begin trying to get this squid out of the net, it's by now half outside the mesh and half inside, I also need to untangle the braid and squid jig which have made a real tangle. If I don't sort the net, I can't land anything and I at least need to separate the LRF rod from the mess. My drag goes again behind me as I am about to free the net and it just keeps on going and accelerating at a hell of a speed, it can only be one thing.
I leap to my feet and snatch the T1200, get up on the tyres and on to the wall, I immediately get another blast and lean into a heavy fish, which acts like it's just woken up and jets off taking line, within 3 to 4 seconds, my braid parts on a rock somewhere under the sea and I shout at the top of my lungs "GODDDDDDDD....". There was this split second where I could have javelined the rod into the sea, I was fuming, and for reasons out of my control.
I raced to tie another leader on and blast another squid bait out, hoping I'd hit another in a pack of tope, it wasn't to be, daylight was here and I just moped about in hope or quiet desperation. I messed about with the LRF rod and a small metal for 20 minutes or so, finding a Ballan wrasse for my troubles. I brought the big rod in, and to my surprise, there was a black bream impaled on the 7/0 hook. Had I known that was there, iI would have left it out there an hour or so, in the hope of tempting something else.
I wearily packed up and sorted my pollock and squid which were going to the fridge and freezer respectively and loaded all my kit into my rucksack and began on the uphill, calf burning hike back to the cottage, utterly defeated. Ordinarily, I'd say that was a tidy session fishing one big bait rod but, it felt like a defeat but, at least I know when and where to find the tope next time, in that respect the ordeal was inspiring and you have to take the positives. I just couldn't believe my bad luck in terms of timing. Until the next one ...
Chris
PS. I managed to drop my camera flash in Mumbai airport in early October, I only realised it wasn't working the other day, so I haven't been able to take any self-timer shots at night. Rather than waiting for the Canon Speedlite to be repaired, I have just ordered two in the post, so I have a spare. The mobile phone struggles a lot with the light at night.
Since arriving on the island; I have made it my vocation to find bait, as I arrived with none. So my previous reports have been using light gear intending to fill my freezer with squid for the upcoming 10m spring tides in the coming days. I looked at the weather before this session and it looked seriously windy, which meant the east side of the island would be my only option, and I needed more squid and pollock for the table, so Maseline Harbour made sense to me. There is a nice mix of sand and rough ground opposite, a good depth and a strong tidal run at times. I would think it's possible to find 30+ species from this venue alone if you know what you are doing. I was a little tired and reluctant given the strong winds but, I gradually packed my gear with one beach caster (Century Eliminator T1200, which was brand new unused and I was itching to have a cast with), a carp rod (for bream) and my Daiwa LRF rod which is getting a bit too much use lately.
The forecast was dry all night, so I packed the down jacket, and a warm hoody, put my headphones in and trudged off down the muddy, track fringed by old stone walls. The choice of listening was motivational stuff from youtube I'd downloaded, I listen to this sort of stuff quite a bit, as I believe what is going into your head is reflected in your thoughts and personality. About half way there I began to ponder, who else would bother, its 9:30pm, a miserable time of year, I am alone, which makes the motivation to go and see out a long session harder to summon. Then whilst listening to a Denzel Washington speech he said some words that really made a lot of sense. He went through the usual platitudes that celebs use, like "if it was easy, everyone would do it" but, then he really struck a chord, saying something like "You have to imagine at the end of your life you're presented with the ghosts of all of your dreams, they are all asking you why you ignored them, why you wasted opportunity and talent." It instantly reminded me of the 70's Papillon film with Steve MacQueen, for those who haven't seen it, he is framed for a crime he didn't commit and sent to the French penal colony of Guiana. There is this scene, a dreamscape while he sleeps where he is in front of a judge who taps his hammer and says "you are guilty of the crime of a wasted life".
Then my mind flipped to the Aristotle who talks about the ancient Olympic games in ancient Greece, he says something like; it is not the most talented or the strongest who succeed, it is those who dare to enter the list. A paced down the hill thinking that I am exactly where I should be and that I should pull an all-nighter fishing and chasing the fish on my dreams.
I setup around 9:45pm, first lobbing the bream rod out, followed by the squid rod. I was missing bream taps as I busily tried to setup the T1200 and it was pretty frustrating, a short time later I picked up a dogfish and retired the bream rod, it was too labour intensive, with catching squid and tending to the big bait rod being my priorities and anybody knows bream fishing is like bassing, you have to be right on rods, touch legering even, if you wish to do it well. I had my first chuck with the T1200 and it's a god damn rocket launcher, I didn't find it heavy, it was a nice length and it really sent larger baits with ease. At the point that first big bait hit the water, I finally felt I was doing some proper fishing again, there was something really satisfying and exciting about it. I grabbed the LRF rod and hauled in the squid jig, as not much was happening. I swapped it over for a metal jig and began looking for a pollock or scad, within a short time a pollock obliged, tearing line off my reel in a short fight which resulted in a nice dinner-sized pollock being popped in my bucket for a meal the following day. I have to say, the difference between fresh pollock and supermarket pollock is huge, it always seems to have a bad taste when I've bought it, likely because of age. But, cooking it up fresh, oven baking it, it's really marvellous eating. My diet has never been worse than it was in India and being back here it's wonderful eating fresh fish daily and sourcing my veg from the farmer opposite my cottage, I feel so much healthier for it.
I suddenly heard the clicking of the drag on my Saltist fixed spool and something was taking line. A smile crept across my face, it had been so long since i'd been fishing 'big bait or bust' and it's certainly my favourite way to fish. I climbed up on the tyres by the wall and got ready to hit the next bite and as quick as that, I was into a half-decent fish. The single circle hook with huss in mind had worked well and I was gradually guiding a fish through the water columns until it breached the surface 3-40 yards out, and sure enough, it was a bull huss. I'd done the right thing rigging my net beforehand, it's 5ft across and is set to barely float, I had tethered it to a post to my side so it was just floating in the tide and could easily be pulled into position when a fish was close. When you're fishing alone with an awkward landing situation, you really need to get the theory right before you hook the fish. I gazed down at the dark mottled huss, perhaps 20ft or more beneath me and with one pull of the rod it slipped into the net easily enough, I opened the bail arm, dumped the rod on the floor to my left and hauled the fish and net up to the breakwater. I remember thinking after so long of not fishing, that my hands are so soft, they are going to need to toughen up I thought, as the abrasive Polypropylene rope burned my palms.
After a quick weigh, unhooking and release, I slipped the 9lb 3oz huss back in the drink from the harbour steps. Not a bad start, I thought.
The following cast I hooked a similar-sized fish, maybe a little bigger and carefully played it to 2ft of the net when it performed a masterful houdini act at the last minute and coughed my hook out and it was gone. I tend to analyze these moments and stew on them usually but, in this case, nothing could have been done differently, it was just one of those things.
This is where the night took a bad turn, the forecast was dry all night with strong winds and it started to rain, at first spitting and then gradually getting heavier. The wind couldn't make up its mind which way it was blowing and rain invariably was in the face, no matter which way you looked, possibly the reaction it deflecting off cliffs and swirling around. I had waterproof salopettes on but, I took my down jacket which started to get very heavy and damp. I was plenty warm enough but, it sort of reminded me of a day I bunked off school with a pal and we really picked the wrong weather, the pair of us sat in one of those Bournemouth overcliff shelters wishing we'd gone to school as we froze our nuts off in Umbro jackets. So, that rain went on for 2 hours or more and I have to say it dampened the spirits a little and accentuated any tiredness.
Next, I had a good double tap on the rod, followed by a short blast on the drag and I quickly hooked into another fish but, this one was a bit trickier as it had gone right, which meant I had to climb up on the wet slippy wall (5 1/2ft high) and walk along with the fish thrashing beneath me in the darkness. The wall has a gradient that slopes toward the sea and all the time I was doing this I was trying to focus on balance, ie if the fish came free I needed to make sure I didn't go flying and if it lunged hard, I needed to make sure I wasn't going for a swim in the black abyss of 13m or so below me. I am no trapeze artist and it wasn't much fun but, I had a stroke of luck in the fact when I turned the corner the net was in the perfect position to slide the fish in and it was an easy landing.
This one was slightly better at 10lb 6oz and was soon off back swimming to the deep. I was pretty happy with the first double of the trip and wondered what was up next. After hurling another big bait out, I was messing about with the squid rod and quickly was into a decent sized squid which slipped into the net ok after being sat on the rim for a second or two like a seesaw. I then cast back out and got another smaller one, which was hanging by just one long tentacle, very lucky indeed.
This next one was small but, beautiful. Natures great design.
The big bait rod was soon again going and a bit sweaty now, with the rain having stopped, I had another huss on and was hauling it up, a lesser stamp than earlier, relatively easy landing and it went 7lb 5oz, it had some lovely markings if not a bit; Dorian from 'Birds of a feather'.
A face only a mother could love... I dread tangle ups like this when hands are sore and cold.
I then hooked a really nice huss, it looked a great size, though not a PB, this one gave me some jip on the harbour wall tightrope walk, only to roll off the hooks 2ft from the net. They are bloody experts at doing that and to be honest, part of me was relieved I was off the wall and on a nice flat platform again. I then lost another squid around 3lb on the surface just shy of being in the net, would have been some nice bait or eating but, I was pretty ambivalent about it, as I'd had a pretty good session so far.
At this point I didn't realise I had peaked, there was a hint of light in the sky to the east just poking through the black clouds on the horizon, which all looked pretty foreboding, I wondered if there'd be more rain or not. I was pretty fatigued by this point and ready for the trudge back up the hill to the cottage. I was again tinkering about with squid jigs when I had a god pull-down and dead weight, then came the water jets firing as a decent squid dived for survival, it was a whopper too on the LRF rod. The net was in a good position and I slowly guided the squid into the net, and began to haul it up the side of the wall. This creature was a really good size, 44cm I measured while in the net. Just as I was doing this I hear a blast of drag clicker on the big bait rod behind me. I assume its another huss and begin trying to get this squid out of the net, it's by now half outside the mesh and half inside, I also need to untangle the braid and squid jig which have made a real tangle. If I don't sort the net, I can't land anything and I at least need to separate the LRF rod from the mess. My drag goes again behind me as I am about to free the net and it just keeps on going and accelerating at a hell of a speed, it can only be one thing.
I leap to my feet and snatch the T1200, get up on the tyres and on to the wall, I immediately get another blast and lean into a heavy fish, which acts like it's just woken up and jets off taking line, within 3 to 4 seconds, my braid parts on a rock somewhere under the sea and I shout at the top of my lungs "GODDDDDDDD....". There was this split second where I could have javelined the rod into the sea, I was fuming, and for reasons out of my control.
I raced to tie another leader on and blast another squid bait out, hoping I'd hit another in a pack of tope, it wasn't to be, daylight was here and I just moped about in hope or quiet desperation. I messed about with the LRF rod and a small metal for 20 minutes or so, finding a Ballan wrasse for my troubles. I brought the big rod in, and to my surprise, there was a black bream impaled on the 7/0 hook. Had I known that was there, iI would have left it out there an hour or so, in the hope of tempting something else.
I wearily packed up and sorted my pollock and squid which were going to the fridge and freezer respectively and loaded all my kit into my rucksack and began on the uphill, calf burning hike back to the cottage, utterly defeated. Ordinarily, I'd say that was a tidy session fishing one big bait rod but, it felt like a defeat but, at least I know when and where to find the tope next time, in that respect the ordeal was inspiring and you have to take the positives. I just couldn't believe my bad luck in terms of timing. Until the next one ...
Chris
PS. I managed to drop my camera flash in Mumbai airport in early October, I only realised it wasn't working the other day, so I haven't been able to take any self-timer shots at night. Rather than waiting for the Canon Speedlite to be repaired, I have just ordered two in the post, so I have a spare. The mobile phone struggles a lot with the light at night.
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