Sunday 17 May 2015

Saturday Night, Sunday Morning

What drives this madness ? Last Sunday, high water was 4.30 am. Any sane person wouldn't consider fishing that tide. "What time are you starting" I said to Conc. "Midnight" he replied. That's ridiculous I thought. So I set the alarm for 12.15 and managed three quarters of an hours sleep before it was time to go.
Ryanski, a non fishing mate, surprised me by asking to come along, as he was keen to catch his own tea. He's a catch it, kill it, cook it, type of bloke.
We arrived at our chosen spot at 1.30, by which time Conc had already had four skate. It was looking like it might be a good night.
It was beautifully mild and a crescent shaped moon radiated a Mars like orange glow over a calm north sea. As soon as the rods were out the rod tips were nodding, as a stream of skate, dogfish and whiting hit the shingle.
Around 3.30 the first hint of dawn showed in the eastern sky and the first skylarks started calling. You remember great times like this in January, when it's freezing cold and there's darkness for sixteen hours.
We ended up with over twenty skate between us, a really good night. To cap it off , we retired round my house to feast on  bacon and sausage butties and fresh coffee. As Conc said, " What a civilised way to end a fishing trip ".

A week later and it was time for the 2015 Colne Irregulars Roker Match, an invite only event contested by some of north Essex's ( is the apostrophe in the right place Mak Baines ? ) wierdest anglers. To be precise, me, Turdster, The Whittler, Krakov, Lord Conc of Weeley, Conc's mate Paul and the legendary, though rarely seen, Blak Dog.

Lord Conc of Weeley with a 7lb plus ray

The match kicked off at 19.00 and an hour later Conc had landed five skate to 4lb before anyone else had had a touch. Luck ? No one is that "lucky". As Gary Player said " The harder I try, the luckier I get ". 
As  it was a "Biggest Fish Wins" match, everyone was still in with a shout. Then Whittler had one of 5lb and minutes later I had a bigger one of 7lb 8oz. Just as I started gloating, Krakov took the lead with an 8 pounder. By this time everyone was catching, except Turdster, who disgraced himself by catching only whiting.
Krakov, me and Blak Dog

The match finished at 23.00, when Conc served home made lemon cake and Krakov was presented with a beautiful hand made cardboard skate trophy ( with the tail stuck together with duct tape - no expense spared ). 
Another enjoyable session with some of Essex's finest.

Krakov with his winning roker and beautiful trophy


  1. Must be paved with raymonds. I am no apostrophe reference point Wak

  2. The Boss says no apostrophes, too ugly.

    It should be 'Another enjoyable session with some of the finest anglers in Essex.'

    The boss went to a grammar school and taught for forty odd years and can still do the Times Crossword in an hour. Worrying.

    All the best, John

  3. Cheers TT. You're right, just change the sentence construction and forget about the apostrophes. It's hard enough for me to spell fings right.
    A First World issue I feel !