Rock Pool Fishing
Last week I had a late summer holiday down in Devon for a few days and of course I took some coarse gear and of course I went sea fishing like you do and of course I blanked on my first trip. This was a few hours at Teignmouth, either side of visiting the town and doing the usual holiday stuff as I was with dad and the missus. Sea fishing for me is as much miss as it is hit as I just 'wing it' on coarse gear and coarse baits and to be fair the coast is not a bad place to top up your quota of blanks.
The next day was a new month as we had rolled into October overnight and oh how the year has flown by (some Covid lockdown irony there) I just wanted to catch something and I also wanted to fish a rock pool for the first time so we all walked down to the beach where we were staying at Devon Cliffs, I found some rocks and we set up the deck chairs. We were quite happy collecting seashells on the sea shore (bit of a tongue twister that one, who knew) Although I wasn't sold on the fishing and even doubted whether I should set up as there was so many other people about, I knew I would look a bit strange but it went quiet people wise and I couldn't resist, so I set up and made my way across the rocks looking for fish.
I didn't see anything, not even a crab, however the pools were beautiful and clear with sandy spots and different types of weed in them adding colour. Maybe there was no fish in these pools and as the tide turned some of them lost water so I tried the main channel or The Sea as the locals call it. There had been a storm the night before and I tried for an hour off the rocks for a wrasse but the sea was very coloured which resulted in a biteless hour fishing in the churned up water. I couldn't see rock from weed due to the water having the same red hue as the nearby cliffs so I settled for not losing any gear which as we all know adds a sour taste to any blank.
I stopped to have lunch with the others who were closer to shore although I swear I saw movement in the very last rockpool in the form of a lightning quick puff of sand, in the pool closest to shore and one of the shallowest but it held water. I threw in some broken pieces of prawn and tucked into my sandwiches not expecting much, in the pool that is, the lunch was great. With dogs now allowed on the beaches I joked that the closest I'd get to seeing a fish would be a poor beagle, a shark based pun that was lost on the missus, my dad got it and were he fifty years younger I'm sure he would have thrown me in for that one. I got up stretched my legs as I ate my crisps and looked back at where I threw the prawns in - they were all gone!
Now this rockpool was a decent size but was really shallow, most of it around 6 inches and a little deep corner where it was a good 8 inches, it was kind of oval in shape and reminded me of a mini Ruislip Lido where I used to fish as a kid. I towered over this little lido like a giant, my shadow from the low sun covering half of it and much of the rocks the other side. I was careful not to shade the baited area and in went some more freebies right in the 'deep' corner which had a slight overhang. What happened next was magical as dozens of fish darted out and feasted on the prawn buffet I had laid on, how there could be that many fish there yet I hadn't spotted them showed more my lack of knowledge and poor watercraft than anything else but hey It's all fun learning.
Most of the fish were tiny perhaps small gobies which are hard to hook on a size 12 but every now and then something bigger darted out. I lowered my float just below the overhang ledge with most of the split shot dangling in the air it was so shallow, a twitch of the bait brought an instant response and a blenny was on, at least I think it was a blenny as the thing came off onto the wet rocks and made it's way back to the pool before I could nab it. They are amazing little fish as they can walk on land and often travel from one rock pool to another if their one dries out, they can also attach themselves to the underside of wet rocks or weeds and wait for the tide to return, the one I lost did it old school flipping back to the water whilst I said flippin' heck or words to that effect. I hovered my float above the hole once more thinking my chance was gone but there was more than one fish under the ledge and I soon was in again this time a really small blenny, the smallest I'd ever caught but it was a fish and the blank was avoided this time.
I then caught two more a bit bigger, the usual blenny size, not huge but in such a tiny corner of my own little rock pool they seemed like giants, although I swear I saw a bigger one fleetingly. Now I'm in the zone and oblivious to all the walkers going by, fishing with a float in the air with an eleven foot John Wilson Avon, complete with bait bib around my waist full of prawns, I must have looked a right sight but I cared not for I was a rock pool angler now.
By now the wind had picked up so the others sought shelter closer to the cliffs where they could look for fossils as it was the Jurassic Coast after all. I could joke that the only fossil there was dad but he made it down and back up the steep slope to the beach and I didn't see many other 80 year old's doing that, if I'm as mobile at his age I'll be happy. Meanwhile I had to have a couple more dips in the pool, I could hardly call them casts after all.
I'd never explored rock pools when I was a kid as we couldn't afford to go on holidays much (things were just as hard back then folks) so was really enjoying it. Just as the others made their way to the cliffs a dark shape dashed out catching me unawares as it aggressively yanked my hookbait back into it's den, it looked massive so there's me doing a sideways strike in inches of water like it was a chub on the river back home. "I've got the big one" I yelled out like a child and it must be many decades since I've shouted that out to my dad. It's all relative now like it was back then and whilst it wasn't huge it just seemed massive for this little pool. The missus ran back to take a photo of the fish which looked like It had enjoyed quite a few prawns already, weight wise it could even be a blenny pb for me as this dude was fat. I returned the chunky blenny to the pool gently allowing it to walk across my hand and it disappeared under that ledge somewhere, somehow. The pool now seemed empty but it did before so I chucked in some more prawns for the little ones to feast on, although knowing them feisty blennies I wouldn't be surprised it they were back on them soon after we left.
Surprisingly we had those rocks to ourselves most the day which made a change for how this year has gone, maybe it was because I looked like a weirdo, but then there's nothing new there. I will look forward to messing about in rock pools again although the six hour journey back from the holiday was one from hell, with gales and sideways rain, surface water and aquaplaning, not to mention several tailbacks for accidents where people weren't as fortunate. The only highlight was convincing dad that one of the stones at Stonehenge was put on top in the 80's by Blue Peter, it does look newer than the other stones but even so as a wind up that's got to be a classic. I'll remember that every time I get stuck on the obligatory Stonehenge traffic jam on the A303 maybe next time when we're heading to the coast to do more rock pool fishing.
Back on The River
Following a weekend of further rain I'm back on my local river looking forward to running a float through, it was a bit blowy but it seemed nothing compared to the coast. The river wasn't the highest I had seen it but the water tables certainly were as I had to wade through a flooded field which I had never seen before. With the clear rain water covering the grass and nettles in places it reminded me of those weedy rockpools I left behind a few days ago, mind you it was a lot deeper and it actually had more depth than the river usually does so I sloshed my way round the edges grateful I was wearing waders, joking with the anglers already there that it's the new backwater, I jested that it could be stocked with bream and they jokingly asked if I could swim.
There was not many down there perhaps due to the weather and I wanted to do some trotting down the river (someone should do a blog about that) It felt good to be running that stick through with a bit of pace on the river and despite it bombing through it had surprising clarity to around four feet, so I was confident any barbel would see my moving pellet. They didn't disappoint and after a few good roach I had some nice fish which were going some in the extra current. They seemed a better stamp of fish which the colder weather always seems to bring out, and are jolly good fun on the float any time of year.
I packed up after only a few hours getting my fill of float fishing and getting back into the coarse fishing groove, also getting home just as the rains came again which was a bonus. The river had dropped a touch whilst I was there and would soon be back in it's confines although there should be enough ground water to keep it up through the Autumn, unlike other years where you often find yourself running a float through a slow clear swim getting a bend in the rod from huge sycamore leaves. Barbel do put a bigger bend in the rod than even the largest sycamore leaf blowing in the wind and a bigger pull than those windswept rockpool blennies after all.
