" I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion "
Henry David Thoreau
I headed off to the estuary bait digging, as me and Conc were off to Dorset for a couple of days fishing. Despite a piddly little tide I managed a good number of ragworm and just as low water approached I stopped digging. I had bought along the spinning rod along, as I'd hoped to have an hour after a bass or two.
The strong westerly wind had coloured up the water quite badly, but I thought I'd have a go anyway. I'd only been fishing ten minutes when the water erupted as a bass hit the surface lure. The rod hooped over and it was clear this was bigger than the little schoolies I've been having of late. After a short but spirited fight a cracking bass in pristine condition was beached.
Best one I've had this year, well over 4lb I guess. That'll do nicely.
Me and Conc set off early Thursday morning. I pointed the camper towards the south west and off it chugged. We arrived at the shingle with a stiff north westerly blowing. Not perfect but fishable. We had bites from the first cast, most missed, we guessed these were black bream as they can be difficult to hook. Conc was quickly off the mark with a barbeque sized fish around the pound mark. I hooked into what I thought was a big bream, but turned out to be a smoothound.
Soon after I had my first bream, followed by the inevitable dogfish and, even worse, tiny congers. Final scores, Conc five bream including a corker of 2lb, doggies and conger. Me, two bream, two smoothies, dogs and conger.
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| Either wear a hat or change that hair cut |
After a half hour trudge across the shingle back to the camper we pigged out on curry and Belguim beer before crashing out.
I woke early and opened the camper door. The wind had dropped and I made the short walk over the top of the shingle bank to see that the sea had calmed right down. Lovely.
We went back to the same spot and first cast I was in to a nice bream. Then another. Lots of bites, some hit, some missed, but bites every cast anyway.
Conc was getting bites but the only ones he was making contact with were dogs. I continued to catch bream and then set the float rod up to try for the garfish. We took it in turns with the float rod, there were loads of them, great fun.
As the tide turned the bottom rods went quiet. I was still getting a few bream, but Conc remained breamless.
We were sitting in the sunshine in T shirts in October, milking the last of the warm weather for all it was worth. A beautiful day, the Isle of Portland to the east and the red cliffs of Devon to the west clearly visible in the distance. We were lucky to be there and we knew it.
Late in the day I managed a cracking plaice, a welcome surprise.
Conc ended up with one bream, nine gars and lots and lots of dogs, plus a couple of hideous tiny conger. I had eleven bream, a plaice, ten gars and a few dogs. The Concmeister took a deserved thrashing, revenge for when he hammered me 26-6 on the plaice in Brighton earlier this year. He took the piss taking well, but he would, he's a fine fellow.
A most enjoyable couple of days.
