Thursday 3 August 2017

Back For More

I sent a text to The Mighty Turdster telling him of my success on the fly. He replied, telling me to come down for a go after the mullet in his marina, which were "uncatchable". So, the next day we set off with a bucket of bread mash ready for another assault on the mullet.

There were fish spread out around the marina, many under the boats and others milling about around the weed. I picked a spot where we could observe what was going on and started to feed bits of bread mash. The fish were swimming past it, not frightened but not showing any interest either. After about an hour, more fish started darting around the mash and seconds later they were on it, feeding in a bit of a frenzy.

TMT had first cast and within seconds the float sank and he was into his first mullet. It looked a decent fish too, but after a few minutes the hook pulled out.

We continued to feed the spot and surprisingly the commotion hadn't spooked the shoal. Another cast and he was in again, this time the hook held and TMT had his first ever mullet.

My turn on the rod next and luckily we spotted a decent fish well away from the shoal devouring every bit of bread in it's path. I lowered the bait in and seconds later the rod hooped over as the mullet steamed off in the direction of the moored boats. The tackle held and a fish getting on for 5lb slid over the net. Lovely.

As we walked back to the car we spotted another big mullet under one of the boats. TMT cast a bit of bread hopefully in it's direction and it immediately swam towards the bait and engulfed it. This fish didn't tear off, but did battle for well over five minutes until we managed to net it. A really nice fish to end the day.

When you're on a roll, milk it, because you never know when your luck will dry up. So with that in mind the next day I grabbed an hour on the fly rod back on the river.

Conditions were more pleasant than the other day, the wind being much lighter. However, after a blank couple of hours I was losing confidence. Not a sniff. I went to lift the fly out the water and found myself attached to a big mullet that bow waved off the shallows into the main flow where it maintained it's position for several minutes.

The brook rod was bent double but eventually the constant pressure told and a real pig of a fish was beached.

Look at that fat bugger. Well pleased with that. This weekend I'll attempt to continue to ride the wave of good luck. Wunderbar.


  1. Self hooked. Don't count old chap. An absolute pig of a fish. Well done old man.

  2. Self hooked. Don't count old chap. An absolute pig of a fish. Well done old man.

  3. Cheersies. Combine a roach and mullet trip soon

  4. The mullet whisperer. now for the hair do...