Chunkers were playing...
I hadnt (still havent) had the time to advertise spare sailings for this day, so when I realised first sailing was vacant, I took it for myself. Desperate to put more time on the fly rod, and also continue assessing a spot where I have found bass love to be, in quite shallow water, when there is a good pull of tide over it. So, I went out solo. And for a stolen hour (might have been 2) I was loving the solitude. And the fishing. A dozen fish to perhaps a little over 3lb. Perfect... I knew there was to be action as soon as I came out. Indeed, I wish I had got out sooner. Birds everywhere. Including the odd Gannet plummeting down.
0930 and I was joined by father and son Paul and Rob. Rob had booked the trip on the recommendation of Mitch (the ozzie left handers a couple of weeks ago...) and I remembered that crew had reasonable fishing. Which put a hint of pressure on myself. But not to worry. We went all out on food fish, and happily both mackerel and plaice were obliging. Banter was top end. Paul is Robs dad, and he clearly had a refreshingly different outlook on how life should be lived. And from the sound of Rob's travels and adventures, he certainly is a chip off the old block.
Rob with a nice plaice.
One other interesting thing in that session. The rig I use for plaice, utilises a 75gm Frolic with the hooks removed, as a weight that is an attractor. A few times over the past few weeks when fishing these rigs on the deeper banks, I felt that some of the really good fish that fell off, might well have been grabbing the slow jig. So, I began fishing the jigs with hooks on. Just a day ago. And already it came good. a SMALL plaice hit it. Food for thought... And I am always hungry for that kind of nourishment.
Small plaice on a big jig...
We just got away with that session, before the wind unexpectedly veered South Easterly. And the sea reacted quickly. So much so, that I had to call the last sailing off. The guy who was booked on seemed quite upset, not so much for him, but for his 8 year old son. I sympathised, an suggested that perhaps they book on Ross Boat tours, on a mackerel boat rather than not make the trip. I also decided to see if I had been correct to can it. I pushed out to the mouth of the marina, straight into the confused sea that is a given when a new strong flood meets the SE wind head on. Most definitely the decision was a valid one.