Headed down to Saunton at the weekend for our twice-yearly surfing trip, although the advancing ages of all involved mean that, unless conditions are absolutely bang-on perfect, the surfing is often replaced by other activities, such as walking, golf (God forbid!) and of course fishing.
On this occasion I was keen to catch another bass or two, so had packed the lure rod again along with the usual LRF gear. Had a walk down the beach upon arrival to check the conditions (blown out mush!) then went on the scrounge along the high tide line for any free fishing tackle, but picked up a ball of sundry rope, nylon and twine discarded by the commercial boys instead. Following morning I was out early and first in the queue for the gate on the toll road down to Crow Point to be opened. Had rather unwisely packed my neoprene chest waders and by the time I had struggled through the dunes to emerge on the estuary I was already sweating cobs. However, it was a worth it as there was not another soul in sight, - only me, the egrets, oyster catchers and waders of various description.
The tide was already racing out exposing the rocks and mussel beds despite it being only a couple of hours into the ebb, so put on a baby Patchinko and spent the next hour or so following the tide and working the surface lure in amongst the rock gullies as they emptied out into the main channel. Looked back over my shoulder at one point and was surprised how far I had gone - it almost felt as if I could touch Appledore on the other side of the estuary with the tip of my rod!
Slowly made my way back to the shore and then walked up to the river mouth where the current was ripping along the near bank. Took the Patchinko off and then spent another hour swinging and bumping soft plastics along the bottom. By this time the constant casting and "high-sticking" was playing havoc with my tennis elbow, so I reluctantly resolved myself to a blank. Took some comfort in that the two anglers moored up in boats nearby and the commercial hand-liner zig-zagging backwards and forwards across the estuary had also failed to catch anything either. Made the long walk back along the beach - I covered 8 kilometres in total, and felt like I'd lost about a stone in sweat by the time I reached the car!
Back at the bungalow the others were proposing a trip into Ilfracombe, so after a quick shower we were off again. Left the majority to trawl around the tat shops whilst my friend James and I wandered down to the harbour. Unlike the bliss and solitude of the estuary earlier it was absolute carnage! The tide was already coming in over the lower deck of the pier, so the upper deck was completely rammed with noddies with rods and lines all over the place. Was minded to go and get a pint instead, but James persuaded me to get the LRF gear and we squeezed into the one available gap. Fished a mini two hook flapper made up with size 16 Drennan widegapes and baited with small pieces of salted ragworm left over from the summer.
Dropping the rig down the wall resulted in bites straight away and alternating the rod between us we soon built up a respectable tally of sand smelt, pollack, ballan wrasse, rock gobies and shannies - much to the amusement of an elderly couple that stood watching us, but less so for everybody else who were catching bugger all. A very canny cormorant was patrolling close to the bottom of the wall for an easy meal and caused James to lose the best fish of the day as he popped up at our feet just as James was bringing the fish (probably a wrasse) to the surface. In the time it took me to scare him off the fish had found the sanctuary of a snag and was gone. By the time the others eventually rocked up with their tat shop bounty the odd wave had started breaking over the upper deck, so called it a day.
Not what I was hoping for, but at least it wasn't a blank and the cod & chips at Squires in Braunton later that evening was top drawer as usual.
Roll on next May when we are back again!
Fantastic read
ReplyDeleteGreat stuff !!
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