Andy 1965
Well-known member
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2020
- Messages
- 376
- Reaction score
- 3,432
- Points
- 93
- Location
- North Wales
- Favourite Fishing
- Lure
A little bit late, but I just thought you might like an update on my last week’s fishing.
Part 1.
With my Covid seemingly in retreat and the line on my daily LFT being only a pale shadow of its former glory, I headed out on Tuesday evening for some fresh air and respite from the heat of the day. My choice of venue was one where I haven’t fished for a few weeks and though the tides weren’t ideal, with low water falling an hour after sunset I was definitely in with a chance of a few silvers.
After a very warm walk from the car, I arrived at the mark to find glorious conditions and a flat calm sea, then after choosing to start my quest with a Frosty in Cabot, I waded out into the cool water, well a couple of degrees cooler than the air temp
. Sadly this was the end for my good fortune for the night as no sooner had I stepped into the sea, it was like someone had flicked a switch, as a left to right breeze sprang up out of nowhere ?. This wasn’t a problem to begin with, as I started to implement my game plan, but the wind just kept on increasing in strength. Half an hour later and the it was blowing so strongly across the reef, that it was now impossible to control my lures! No matter what I tried to counteract the bow in my line when I cast out, it made no difference and my lures were dragged across in front of me at a rate of knots. With no signs of the wind abating, I decided to cut my losses and not to waste any more valuable fishing time on a lost cause ?.
The walk back to the car was hard work in the heat and I was drenched in sweat by the time I got there ?, so I switched the air-con to cool and headed off in search of some fishable water.
Now I had been so set on my original choice of venue that I hadn’t really thought of a backup, but I did have one or two places in mind. The problem with these marks was the state of the tide, and I spent the next 90 minutes driving around unsuccessfully trying to find a suitable spot where I could wet a line. Finally, with time running out I settled on a mark where I’ve fished over low water in the past, and though I hadn’t done particularly well there myself, I know others who have.
After quickly getting suited and booted again, I waded out among the boulders and as the light levels began to drop, I found myself surrounded once more by glassy calm water, so all was well with the world again ?. I had only been in the water for a minute or two when I heard the first distinctive slurp, as a bass surprised an unsuspecting victim from below, and as my ears became accustomed to them I gradually became aware of a constant stream of slurps and splashes, as the bass fed all around me. This might sound like heaven, but in fact it was incredibly frustrating and no matter what lure I tried I couldn’t tempt anything into an attack. As if this lack of interest in my offerings wasn’t bad enough, the fishing was far from easy and everywhere I cast my lures, they were constantly entangled by bootlace weed. Strangely, the problem was most pronounced when fishing surface lures and it was a constant battle to find any clear water, where I could work them properly, typical really when the bass were feeding predominantly up top ?.
In an attempt to find a lure that worked, I gave water time to a variety of different patterns and over the next 90 minutes, I tried the Frosty, the baby Patch and baby Asturie, the small 90mm Ruf Manic and at the other extreme the Hunt House 155, which I hoped would reach deeper water beyond the weed, it didn’t!
On the soft plastic side I tried both the weightless and weighted Swimish, the Mishna, the Wave Worm, Do-Live Stick and finally the Albie snax, which happened to be about the only lure which didn’t catch weed, but annoyingly the bass just weren’t interested in any of them ?. As darkness finally fell, the feeding bass gradually went quiet and by low water, I could only hear the very occasional splash.
I decided now to have a bit of a wander along the shore, in an effort to find where the bass might have gone, but the fishing remained quiet over slack water. In that time I explored about half a mile of coastline, and after 45 minutes of the flood the water finally began to get deeper as the tide pushed in, so when I judged there to be enough depth to cover the weed, I clipped on a mid-sized Ruf Manic.
The next 20 minutes remained deathly quiet and I was seriously considering calling it a night, when completely out of nowhere my lure was hit only a few meters out. Rather than run with the lure, the assailant just went mad on the surface and all I could do was hang on for dear life, as I tried to cushion the lunges but eventually, after 10-15 seconds of struggling the line dropped slack as the fish made good its escape! ?
Having missed my only take in over 2 and a half hours fishing, I was absolutely gutted but where there was one fish, there might be more, so I got straight back to it. Sadly though, this was wishful thinking and I didn’t see any more action for the last half hour of my session.
Part 2.
Annoyingly, after being very faint on Tuesday, the line on my LFT test was back to a very dark line on Wednesday ? but thankfully by Thursday it was fading again. Strangely, I actually felt worse on Thursday, but by the evening I was over the worst of it and ready to continue my quest for silver.
My chosen venue this time was a new one for me, but I have it on good authority that there are some nice bass to be caught there, and I was hopeful of getting into a few fish this time. The mark itself is a reef, which juts out to sea and on an ebbing tide, a strong current runs across it. This flow sweeps baitfish downtide and into a rocky area with plenty of bladderwrack, where the bass lie in wait to ambush any tasty morsels which come their way.
By the time I arrived, 90 minutes or so after high water, the feature was still completely submerged but over the next hour, the water shallowed up and the tide started to run. My main lures of choice to tackle the shallow, weedy water were various soft plastics, including the Swimish, Mishna, Do-Live Stick, Wave Worm and Albie Snax, but even the most shallow swimming of these struggled in the weed. In an effort to beat the cabbage, I also tried various surface lures, including the Frosty, Patch 100 and Asturie but still I couldn’t tempt anything into having a go.
About 3 hours after I arrived and just as the light was beginning to fade, I became aware of a strange and distant tinkling sound, and peering into the gathering gloom I could just make out a figure walking towards me, carrying a fishing rod fitted with one of those bloody annoying bite detection bells. Ignoring him I carried on fishing and I continued to fan out casts both onto the reef itself, and out over the cleaner ground on either side. Eventually the mysterious stranger drew level with me but rather than carry on, he stopped directly behind me. Again I paid no attention, but after a quick telephone conversation he called out to me to ask which way I was casting. I replied with “every way”, hoping that he would move on, but he wasn’t having it and he promptly informed me that he was going to fish directly to my left ?. Getting a bit miffed by now, I pointed out that he had miles of shoreline to choose from, rather than fishing right next to me, but his mind was made up. He informed me that he was “local” and that he fished this particular spot all the time, so he was going nowhere ?. I replied that I hadn’t realised fishing a mark regularly grants ownership of that stretch of coast, and that I would be sure to ask his permission before fishing there again, but I was obviously wasting my time and he was sadly lacking in any understanding of angling etiquette, or any good manners at all it seemed ?.
The next 90 minutes was a bit of a standoff, as I continued casting straight over and diagonally uptide of the reef, but the majority of the downtide side, where I expected the bass to be, was sadly out of bounds for me and I didn’t get a single hit. I suppose it could have been worse if my uninvited neighbour had actually caught something, but thankfully he also struggled and apart from the very annoying tinkling of his bell every time he reeled in to re-bait and cast out again, we fished on in complete silence.
Eventually, around an hour before low water, the flow began to ease and I know that I was unlikely to see any action now. I wasn’t about to leave though and give Mr Jingle the run of the mark, so I fished on regardless ?. Ultimately my stubbornness won the day and my adversary called it a night first ?, so I gave him a 10 minute head start before I packed up too and followed him back along the shore.
So that was 2 consecutive blanks this week and my averages have taken a bit of a setback, but then the tides weren’t ideal and I was forced to fish marks that wouldn’t have been my first choice. The tides are slightly better next week though and I’m finally Covid negative again, so hopefully my fortunes will take a turn for the better ?.
Part 1.
With my Covid seemingly in retreat and the line on my daily LFT being only a pale shadow of its former glory, I headed out on Tuesday evening for some fresh air and respite from the heat of the day. My choice of venue was one where I haven’t fished for a few weeks and though the tides weren’t ideal, with low water falling an hour after sunset I was definitely in with a chance of a few silvers.
After a very warm walk from the car, I arrived at the mark to find glorious conditions and a flat calm sea, then after choosing to start my quest with a Frosty in Cabot, I waded out into the cool water, well a couple of degrees cooler than the air temp
. Sadly this was the end for my good fortune for the night as no sooner had I stepped into the sea, it was like someone had flicked a switch, as a left to right breeze sprang up out of nowhere ?. This wasn’t a problem to begin with, as I started to implement my game plan, but the wind just kept on increasing in strength. Half an hour later and the it was blowing so strongly across the reef, that it was now impossible to control my lures! No matter what I tried to counteract the bow in my line when I cast out, it made no difference and my lures were dragged across in front of me at a rate of knots. With no signs of the wind abating, I decided to cut my losses and not to waste any more valuable fishing time on a lost cause ?.The walk back to the car was hard work in the heat and I was drenched in sweat by the time I got there ?, so I switched the air-con to cool and headed off in search of some fishable water.
Now I had been so set on my original choice of venue that I hadn’t really thought of a backup, but I did have one or two places in mind. The problem with these marks was the state of the tide, and I spent the next 90 minutes driving around unsuccessfully trying to find a suitable spot where I could wet a line. Finally, with time running out I settled on a mark where I’ve fished over low water in the past, and though I hadn’t done particularly well there myself, I know others who have.
After quickly getting suited and booted again, I waded out among the boulders and as the light levels began to drop, I found myself surrounded once more by glassy calm water, so all was well with the world again ?. I had only been in the water for a minute or two when I heard the first distinctive slurp, as a bass surprised an unsuspecting victim from below, and as my ears became accustomed to them I gradually became aware of a constant stream of slurps and splashes, as the bass fed all around me. This might sound like heaven, but in fact it was incredibly frustrating and no matter what lure I tried I couldn’t tempt anything into an attack. As if this lack of interest in my offerings wasn’t bad enough, the fishing was far from easy and everywhere I cast my lures, they were constantly entangled by bootlace weed. Strangely, the problem was most pronounced when fishing surface lures and it was a constant battle to find any clear water, where I could work them properly, typical really when the bass were feeding predominantly up top ?.
In an attempt to find a lure that worked, I gave water time to a variety of different patterns and over the next 90 minutes, I tried the Frosty, the baby Patch and baby Asturie, the small 90mm Ruf Manic and at the other extreme the Hunt House 155, which I hoped would reach deeper water beyond the weed, it didn’t!
On the soft plastic side I tried both the weightless and weighted Swimish, the Mishna, the Wave Worm, Do-Live Stick and finally the Albie snax, which happened to be about the only lure which didn’t catch weed, but annoyingly the bass just weren’t interested in any of them ?. As darkness finally fell, the feeding bass gradually went quiet and by low water, I could only hear the very occasional splash.
I decided now to have a bit of a wander along the shore, in an effort to find where the bass might have gone, but the fishing remained quiet over slack water. In that time I explored about half a mile of coastline, and after 45 minutes of the flood the water finally began to get deeper as the tide pushed in, so when I judged there to be enough depth to cover the weed, I clipped on a mid-sized Ruf Manic.
The next 20 minutes remained deathly quiet and I was seriously considering calling it a night, when completely out of nowhere my lure was hit only a few meters out
. Rather than run with the lure, the assailant just went mad on the surface and all I could do was hang on for dear life, as I tried to cushion the lunges but eventually, after 10-15 seconds of struggling the line dropped slack as the fish made good its escape! ?Having missed my only take in over 2 and a half hours fishing, I was absolutely gutted but where there was one fish, there might be more, so I got straight back to it. Sadly though, this was wishful thinking and I didn’t see any more action for the last half hour of my session.
Part 2.
Annoyingly, after being very faint on Tuesday, the line on my LFT test was back to a very dark line on Wednesday ? but thankfully by Thursday it was fading again. Strangely, I actually felt worse on Thursday, but by the evening I was over the worst of it and ready to continue my quest for silver.
My chosen venue this time was a new one for me, but I have it on good authority that there are some nice bass to be caught there, and I was hopeful of getting into a few fish this time. The mark itself is a reef, which juts out to sea and on an ebbing tide, a strong current runs across it. This flow sweeps baitfish downtide and into a rocky area with plenty of bladderwrack, where the bass lie in wait to ambush any tasty morsels which come their way.
By the time I arrived, 90 minutes or so after high water, the feature was still completely submerged but over the next hour, the water shallowed up and the tide started to run. My main lures of choice to tackle the shallow, weedy water were various soft plastics, including the Swimish, Mishna, Do-Live Stick, Wave Worm and Albie Snax, but even the most shallow swimming of these struggled in the weed. In an effort to beat the cabbage, I also tried various surface lures, including the Frosty, Patch 100 and Asturie but still I couldn’t tempt anything into having a go
.About 3 hours after I arrived and just as the light was beginning to fade, I became aware of a strange and distant tinkling sound, and peering into the gathering gloom I could just make out a figure walking towards me, carrying a fishing rod fitted with one of those bloody annoying bite detection bells
. Ignoring him I carried on fishing and I continued to fan out casts both onto the reef itself, and out over the cleaner ground on either side. Eventually the mysterious stranger drew level with me but rather than carry on, he stopped directly behind me. Again I paid no attention, but after a quick telephone conversation he called out to me to ask which way I was casting. I replied with “every way”, hoping that he would move on, but he wasn’t having it and he promptly informed me that he was going to fish directly to my left ?. Getting a bit miffed by now, I pointed out that he had miles of shoreline to choose from, rather than fishing right next to me, but his mind was made up. He informed me that he was “local” and that he fished this particular spot all the time, so he was going nowhere ?. I replied that I hadn’t realised fishing a mark regularly grants ownership of that stretch of coast, and that I would be sure to ask his permission before fishing there again, but I was obviously wasting my time and he was sadly lacking in any understanding of angling etiquette, or any good manners at all it seemed ?.The next 90 minutes was a bit of a standoff, as I continued casting straight over and diagonally uptide of the reef, but the majority of the downtide side, where I expected the bass to be, was sadly out of bounds for me and I didn’t get a single hit. I suppose it could have been worse if my uninvited neighbour had actually caught something, but thankfully he also struggled and apart from the very annoying tinkling of his bell every time he reeled in to re-bait and cast out again, we fished on in complete silence.
Eventually, around an hour before low water, the flow began to ease and I know that I was unlikely to see any action now. I wasn’t about to leave though and give Mr Jingle the run of the mark, so I fished on regardless ?. Ultimately my stubbornness won the day and my adversary called it a night first ?, so I gave him a 10 minute head start before I packed up too and followed him back along the shore.
So that was 2 consecutive blanks this week and my averages have taken a bit of a setback, but then the tides weren’t ideal and I was forced to fish marks that wouldn’t have been my first choice. The tides are slightly better next week though and I’m finally Covid negative again, so hopefully my fortunes will take a turn for the better ?.
