Half term saw us heading down to Devon to see friends for a couple of days, then heading west to the in-laws in Pembrokeshire. Threw a few bits in with a view to having a go for a last-minute bass, but with tides not playing ball again it was off to Hobbs Point in Pembroke Dock instead.
On the point
Got there an hour or so before high tide in order to fish through slack water. Dropped a simple two-hook paternoster baited up with bits of ragworm down the side of the ramp and waited to see what would turn up. Didn't have to wait long. In fact it must have been like fish soup down there. Instantly started getting knocks and rattles. The main culprits were rock gobies that were coming up two at a time!
Had a few of these in the bag when the rod tip bent over properly, resulting a little wrasse.
Thought I'd caught the mother of all gobies at one stage only to have a really pretty sea scorpion to pop up at the surface.
Had lost count of the number of gobies I'd actually caught at this stage, so was pleased when wrasse number two turned up instead, a slighter better, darker specimen than the first.
Was a big tide today, so wasn't surprised when it started pulling out again less than an hour after high water. However, it seemed to bring a change as species number four appeared - a little pouting.
Had a couple more of these (and more gobies!) before I started to struggle holding bottom with the 2 ounce lead. Dropped down one last time and was rewarded with the best wrasse of the morning.
Best 'til last
Headed back for breakfast after a fish-filled two hours at a venue that's already become a firm favourite after only a couple of visits. Roll on next year!
Not quite as high as an elephant's eye..
Any old iron?
Dropped my nymph into the faster runs to no avail. The fish were there - I could see them shooting off in the clear, shallow water as I made my way upstream! I did find a spectacular bracket fungus, the sulphur polypore, and an old Peck's meat paste jar.
Was beginning to think that this would be my first trout blank of the year when the tip eventually jagged over as a little one finally took my fly.