This weekend was my first trip to the coast and it seemed weird that it was so late in the year when I normally go down there in spring and early summer, but it had been a strange year with all the goings on. The missus hadn't been out much either so it was finally a good time to get down the docks and do a bit of fishing even if the weather wasn't that great, we both needed to get out on a trip so we headed to the South coast.
These docks have been good to me over the few years I have been 'winging it' at sea fishing, using coarse techniques, tackle and bait so I was a bit dismayed to see half of it fenced off for 'Regeneration' The best thing about this place is it's a working dock and is pretty quiet save for the odd cargo ship and it's safe to say they are much larger vessels than I am used to on The Grand Union or River Thames back home, although they make less wash of course. It will be all leisure boat moorings and fancy apartments in the future which is a shame so lets get on to the fishing.
I set up in a the most sheltered spot available but it was blowing through from right to left and there was a good chop on, not ideal for someone who's default setting is float fishing, undeterred I set up a 6BB waggler and proceeded to feed mashed bread. Casting was at the mercy of the wind as was my feeding so on the rare occasions the two aligned in perfect symmetry I was pleased with myself. The bites would come I hoped and the first nibbles of bread off the surface signalled there were fish on the scene, I now expected a bite and sure enough the float zipped under and a fish was on. It has always been a tradition to take a photo of the first bass of the season and as you can see it was a right monster.
I love the way those bass puff out the gills and spike up those fins as if to say "Don't eat me" and I wasn't going to although you hope in ten years time you may just do that after it has spawned tens of thousands of others, although it's fair to say it's got a right slog to do that. A few more tiny bass followed and it can be hard to get through them but I like the little beggars, much like catching dace on a river you get loads of bites and you hope something bigger comes along, or different and as the float zipped under once more this time It didn't feel like a bass...
Now Mullet are a funny fish, at some places they will wolf down a golf ball sized bit of bread and on other waters they will play blow football with it sucking off the smallest of pieces. Also at some venues you get lucky and some you don't and these docks definitely fell in to the latter category for me. Previously I'd missed fish, bumped fish and lost fish with everyone coming off here which to be fair can happen with mullet but not all of them for crying out loud, but lo and behold the duck was now broken and like the bass it was a beast of a fish. Joking aside I think it takes great skill to catch them this size and joking aside aside I didn't care, this was my first mullet here and my smallest ever by far, so I was delighted.
It soon went back to normal with small bass hammering the bread and I had hoped it would draw in some bigger ones like on previous occasions but the wind was blowing my bread back in and the seagulls were on the scene, even hitting the bites was getting hard as was mending the huge bow in my line, so deep down I knew this was as good as it was going to get and indeed it was as the wind was increasing. To make things worse a squally shower bought sideways rain so me and the poor missus were now hunkered down under a small umbrella
This umbrella ain't big enough for the both of us as they say in rain affected westerns so I donned a poncho all Clint Eastwood style and faced the weather head on like the worlds worst superhero. Although Waterproof Poncho Man looked like a wally (c'mon Superman wears his pants outside) he had the power to deflect rain and could ride the wind to any destination as long as it was downwind, perhaps his nemesis in that respect could be Hot Air Balloon Man. Both sailing on the wind going somewhere but getting nowhere much like this blog if I keep digressing like this, but we had to see the funny side of the English summer as we were just happy to be out in it.
Even though the shower only lasted ten minutes the wind had got up further and was far too strong for my float skills, my bread was almost hitting me in the face and my casting was much more miss than hit. I tried ever so hard for one more small bass which felt like a minor victory when I swung it in through the wind. By now I was really tired and you know it's time to go when the chop starts getting white horses and the fish feel warmer than your hand, so we packed up a bit weather beaten, but spirits undaunted.
By the time we got back to the car it was wall to wall sunshine, the irony of which was tempered by the fact it was still really windy so we were more than happy to chill in the sun and dry out a bit before the journey home. We then proceeded to get some fine fish and chips and headed to a sheltered beach which was busy with swimmers and sail boats, a stark contrast to the quiet windswept docks which seemed like another world.
Before anyone gets all pc I would like to think no woman in her right mind would take on the Waterproof Poncho or Hot Air Ballon title even in the just cause of super hero status, they would be far too sensible and would just stay out of the wind and rain and do their own thing much like my missus who was a trouper in such conditions.
