Catch Fish with
For anyone unfamiliar with the site always check the FRESHWATER, SALTWATER and TACK-TICS pages. The Saltwater page now extends back as a record of over several years of (mostly) sea fishing and may be a useful guide as to when to fish. The Freshwater stuff is also up to date now. I keep adding to both. These pages are effectively my diary and the latest will usually be about fishing in the previous day or two. As you see I also add the odd piece from my friends and correspondents if I've not been doing much. The Tactics pages which are chiefly 'how I do it' plus a bit of science are also updated regularly and (I think) worth a read (the earlier ones are mostly tackle and 'how to do it' stuff).
Keep your eyes peeled.
You would think that it would have been perfect. Big spring tides, relatively calm weather, lots of weed on the beaches. Where the hell were the fish? I'd walked miles to what should have been an ideal spot. When I got there several of my friends were already fishing both from the shore and from kayaks - nothing! We were a bit early, anticipating a good evening but we were wrong. There was no sign of a fish. the tide rose and now it was only half-an-hour to high water - still no sign. To be honest the tide was not reaching the weed piles and there were few if any maggots in the water. It looked as though we were going to 'draw a blank'.
I said goodbye to the others and set off trudging back along the beach. I intended spending the last half-hour (dusk was falling) drowning a bait on freeline gear. I'd gone about half a mile when, in the gloom, I saw a slight disturbance near the edge of the sea. I stopped and peered in the poor light, sure enough it was the tell-tale snout of a mullet breaking the surface in the breaking waves. All thoughts of bait fishing left my mind. I dumped the gear on the beach and picked up the fly rod. It was armed with a little grey Delta eel. I flicked out a few metres of fly line to what I could now see was a group of fish feeding in the marginal waves. I tightened the line and I was into a fish. I could feel that it was just a tiddler but it was certainly a FISH. Wonderful!
I landed my little bass and messed about taking its picture in the poor light. I dropped it back into the sea and cast again, the fish were still there. I was into another one, a bit bigger than the first. This was repeated half-a-dozen times. It was not a fish a cast because even in the poor light the fish were wary of the fly line extending above their heads and I had to keep moving along the beach to find another feeding group. I cast again. I raised the rod. The line tightened. I struck. The reel sang - I was into a better fish. Away it went out to sea. This was clearly much bigger and I had my suspicions that it was not a bass. After a good five minutes I was able to slide my catch onto the flat rocks and I saw that it was a cracking mullet, as fat as butter and in mint condition. What an end to the evening. Well worth keeping my eyes open.
If you have any comments or questions about fish, methods, tactics or 'what have you!' get in touch with me by sending an E-MAIL to - firstname.lastname@example.org
My first fish.
My last fish.