I left yesterdays blog on a very optimistic note. When I read it back this morning, I surprised myself. Especially as Neptune replaced the forecast 5mph wind with something more akin to 12 gusting 18mph. As if things were not hard enough. Thing with that wind is you have to stay in tight. But guess what else is in tight? May rot...
Joining me for the almost certain blank, Max, Ian, and not tortured enough the previous evening, Loz and Liam. Inshore, I simply steered out on reaching the mark. Brown. Offshore, the wind was brutal and it was like March all over again. I regretted no thermal layers, and leaving my wooly hat in the car. What was I thinking? I mean, its only mid-May. The Strong northerly wind also sent us straight across the tide. It was going horribly wrong. To add to the pain, those same three dolphins that seem to have adopted our patch came to haunt me.
One bass was caught, perhaps two. But it wasn't on at the sardine spot. I began a familiar but so far this year mostly useless tour of the offshore reef line. Not much happening. Ending with one reef close to the marina, that has actually saved me before a few times. Better for cod than bass in cod times, when bass are on it they can be on it in good numbers.
By this point, I had decided I just couldn't do this to the next guys, so messaged them all saying strong northerly winds and green seas mean zero chances of fish. They all reluctantly acknowledged. I hate doing that. But I hate taking hard earned money from people with the knowledge they are not going to enjoy their session.
I think it was Ian that hit the first table fish, one of four by the final whistle. And zero blankers with a total bass count of ten fish. Things were looking up. But seas were constantly changing. Imagine puffy clouds going through the sky. This is what is happening on the 500 yard to 2 mile mark, with the clouds being algae and the blue sky being clear sea. Inside 500 yards it is a concentrate, and very nasty. Particularly smelly. Yet still not the sewage that Brighton Karen's (Quote - "I've lived here all my life and I haven't seen it before) denying it is anything but sewage. Despite it being an annual event since doggerland became submerged at least. (google it. Fascinating, and nothing to do with public car parks).
In the final fifteen minutes of that sailing, the wind dropped to nothing. I could not believe it. A reasonable tally of bass and perfect warm weather. I messaged them all back. Happily, although the schedule slipped a little, I was able to leave the marina with James, Jude and Tim onboard.
This one was a lot tougher. Much warmer, and far easier lure control, yet back to fish not opening mouths. We tapped away though, and the final tally was six fish landed, plus a warrior of a wrasse for Jude, with two bass killed.
Final sailing, and it was my pleasure to welcome back Paul, Alastair and Sam. I had billed this one as a fifty fifty plaice and bass session, as it was essential that fish were caught. We fished bass with abject failure for the first hour, although the inshore spot was now much clearer of rot. With the first pull of flood, we donned the plaice rigs and isomes and headed to a bank in deeper water.
Plaice were playing, but a bit half heartedly. A tiny gurnard gave some variety. Two good fish with thick fillets just waiting for a sharp knife were despatched. A move inshore saw the rigs come up thick with slime. Looking clear on the surface, belies what lays beneath. I was nervous. We needed more. I opted to return to the Axia Mighty minnows and head to a spot I havent been to since the green arrived.
Now I pride myself on spotting things. Noticing things out of the corner of my eye is one of my forte's. And yet, that lad Paul was on point today. "Birds" and pointed... "Where?" I'm saying. "Dead ahead"... Crikey... I just made out what must be a couple of hundred seagulls. Cant be... Erm... Can be and was... A brit shoal clearly sent by Neptune by way of an apology for the wrong wind this morning. Being pushed up by bass everywhere. If it wasn't for all the birds the spooks would have been flying. Yet, shads were fine. Even worked shallow. Rods bent. And for the final hour we held the shoal. 24 bass I counted, and I am renowned for my undercounting. Likely more. Max kill. Max smiles. One very happy skipper gutted to have to cancel tomorrows sailings due to... A strong NE wind...40 bass on the day... things are looking up. Lots of spaces next week, with Thursday and Friday holding the best prospects on the current forecast. Text to 07970 112774 to secure your space.
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