Cod Accumulative Total = 1
I must admit that after such a shocking sailing the final sailing of the previous day, it was in my mind to just cancel everything and go and hide. Sometimes, the poor fishing will carry over, even for several days. Im quite glad I did not though. Apparently, on the new tide the previous evening, a lot of mackerel arrived. They do not turn up for fun, so it suggested some bait fish might be around. And perhaps those bass might be feeding again. Amos and his friend Sean, were the crash test dummies for first sailing.
Very first cast, which I do in front of all new to BIF1 to show the correct technique, was inhaled by a nice table fish, and so it seemed, here we go... Amos also managed a schoolie, before the fish left the mark on the very last dribble of the ebb tide. I am still trying to find out where these fish like to go to, with no result so far. Which left us on the hunt. And it was all seeming rather dire, until the final spot we tried. Almost immediately Amos was bent into a cracking fish. But not the expected bass. Instead, the first cod of the season aboard BIF1. In itself reason for celebration. But it wasnt the only fish on the reef. Several bass also came to play, and Amos and Sean were suddenly BIF1 addicted. It can happen like that...
2nd sailing, and would the fish still be there? Well, the answer was yes. Swapnil (finally aboard after no less than 10 cancellations due to the early autumn that was July) and Yuri found fish after fish. A brace apiece went home with them (work colleagues before anyone tries to shoot me down on social distancing issues with the double hook up shot... it has been known. Jealousy seems to know no bounds...).
Another two addicts. Yuri particularly enjoyed my speaking Russian to him, and loved the whole light line concept. As did Swapnil. And after the earlier cod, my mood could not have been better. A really lovely, fun and friendly sailing, with ten bass, gurnard, wrasse, pouting, and far too many cuttlefish.
Final sailing, and out with regular Steve and his lad Harry. Always a giggle with these guys, plus the added advantage that Steve is finger trained. Another two brace of bass heading up the road, and Steve totally outfished me, with the bulk of the 12 bass landed falling to his magic finger. And he managed a small pollock. Harry loved the cuttlefish training school as well. Its such visual fun that, tbh, even bigger kids like me still cant help giggling when these dumb molluscs even try to take the lure when it is hanging in the air. Good job cuttles dont get boat sized...
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