Three Go Mad In Dorset

I'd spoken with local boy Chris about giving me and Conc a few pointers with regards to good marks, tides, etc , on fishing his Dorset patch. He was more than helpful and at the last minute decided to join us for a session on the rocks after undulate rays and conger.

Conc and me jumped in the camper, set off at first light and were scoffing a rather good breakfast in Wareham by nine o clock. We then set off along the coast path to catch a few mackerel for bait in the evening and in no time had caught twenty or so. Great start.

Chris turned up in the evening as arranged and answered the usual questions. It went something like this.....

" What's the access to the mark like? "

"Oh, not bad, as long as you take it easy walking down the cliff, then a bit of rock hopping"

Great, I thought. Let's jump forward two minutes.

We reach the cliff, look down and see a hundred plus foot drop, extremely steep, with ropes to prevent you falling to your death at the base of the cliff. Hmmm. We ain't going to be "walking" down this cliff. This bloke would probably describe Everest as " A bit steep in places ".

Anyway, we made it down, bumping and sliding down on our arses and eventually made it to the mark. A lovely spot, provided you didn't fall down the holes with a fifteen foot drop to the sea either side of us,

We caught a few ( well, bloody loads actually ) more mackerel and scad before casting the bottom rods out. The mackerel shoals were incredible, hitting anything and everything. Good size and great fun. I love makkie.

Rods cast out and we were getting rattles and pulls, which Chris told us were probably bream. In no time Conc had a take on a whole mackerel fillet and landed an 11lb plus undulate, a great start. About an hour later he was in again and another undulate of similar size was bagged. Bites increased and we both had conger, albeit very small straps.

Chris shouted across and told us he was in and a few minutes later Conc took up landing duty and managed to shake Chris's ray off the hook. He'll do anything to stop anyone else catching. Chris just grinned, or grimaced, I couldn't tell. He now refers to the incident as "Ray Gate".

Anyway a while later Chris was in again and had a very nice ten pounder. it was turning into a good night.

The tide was now rising and the swells were getting bigger, with the bigger waves crashing into the rocks and occasionally soaking anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way. It was a bit, well, not frightening, but it certainly made you realise how you were at the mercy of the elements.

Next it was my turn, Conc shouting to me that my rod was just about to leave the rest, I grabbed the rod, which took a satisfying curve and in a short time a nice ten pound undulate was safely landed. All down to our ( slightly mad ) guide.

It then got a bit cold and we ( I ) got tired, as we waited for the tide to recede enough to make it back to the base of the cliffs, ready for the big climb. As we watched Conc clamber up the ropes, we turned round and  looked across the bay as the sun was just starting to rise. What a sight. And we were alive. Mission accomplished.

We grabbed a few hours kip in the camper. Conc had approached the warden and asked if we could leave the van overnight, etc, etc. " Do what you want " she said. "But please stop talking". The boy doesn't know the meaning of brevity.

Later that day we went down to another mark and had fun spinning and float fishing and catching garfish, mackerel ( of course ) and wrasse. Damn good fun in the sun, but rather tame after the previous night.

Conc sunk to a new low by fishing in the rock pools on his "species hunt". Having said that he did catch a few litluns.

All too soon it was time to get in the camper and chug off home. Hopefully we'll be back soon.

A really enjoyable few days made possible by Chris, who went beyond the call of duty in putting us on the fish. What a fine fellow. He has got a screw loose though.

The West Is Best

I've got lots of "favourite places" and the south west coast of Ireland is definitely one of them.
Last week I was on the Beara Peninsula in south west Ireland for a week of fishing and rock hopping with The Mighty Turdster. Great scenery, uncrowded, nice people and superb fishing, Sometimes the weather isn't too bad either.

The number one requirement was to catch some fresh mackerel for bait, so we headed off to a likely mark. First cast and Turdy hooked a big pollack, which after a while he had under control. Unfortunately, we were thirty feet up a cliff and he ended up losing it. Sod's law.

Makkie eventually caught and the first night we had a cracking session, with Turdy having a huss of 10lb and me a very angry conger of 17lb, We had non stop action, with some lost and some landed. A good start.

Yes, I look a Gumby, but what a cracking conger

I have to admit Turdy was Huss King on this trip. We both caught a similar amount, but mine were all 4-7lb, while Turdy had four of 9-10lb.

He also managed to wangle out a three bearded rockling on a big piece of mackerel. Weird looking beast.

We had several sessions at a deep water mark where we again had huss and conger, plus pollack and mackerel. The real highlight was watching a pod of forty of fifty dolphins, along with a huge fin whale. An amazing sight, undoubtedly the highlight of the trip.

I had a cracking pollack of 5lb 12oz on light lure gear at Cod's Head. Apologies for the half arsed attempt at a pirate look, but it was hot and there was nobody about for several miles, so to hell with it.

One evening we heard what we thought was a wading bird calling on the rocks. Very high pitched call. Turned out to be a sea otter. Another interesting sighting.

The lure fishing in front of our B and B was again excellent. The couple of hours around dusk produced countless pollack, a handful of coalies, plenty of mackie, scad and, surprisingly, a total of eight codling around the 1.5lb - 2,5lb mark. All fish took slim spoon type lures, which out fished soft plastics and rubber eels massively,

On the last night I fished until darkness on the rock ledge two minutes from the B and B, getting a take almost every cast, The sun was setting, the sea was calm, it was beautifully mild and I was surrounded by stunning scenery.  Sometimes you really do need to take a minute and acknowledge how lucky you are.

The Camper Chugs On....

On the way back from northern Spain, we called in at Agde on the Med. Every bit of the French Med I've ever been to has been crowded, busy and a disappointment. Maybe this would be different. No. it was bloody horrible and I couldn't wait to leave. Which we did. Immediately.

We ended up in the Tarn Gorge. Beautiful, much more like it and a two minute walk from the river.

Down to the river and I quickly caught a few chub. Saw a few barbel, but not as many as I'd expected. Managed to get a nice one around 5lb on the second session. I was fishing, when out of the corner of my eye I saw what I took to be an otter. It obviously hadn't seen me and actually swam under my rod, no more than eight feet from me, where it became apparent it was a beaver, not an otter. Incredibly, in the next half hour I saw a total of five of them. Managed one poor photo, but a great sight.

Lovely river, as you can see.

I set out on a bike ride up the Tarn and Jonte gorges. What an incredible place.As usual the photos don't do it justice. So quiet too, with very little traffic. I took a very ( very ) steep, small track up the side of the gorge, just about translating the warning sign ( roughly, no safety barriers / falling rocks ). What a fantastic, exhilarating ride. Totally silent, apart from the griffin vultures and ravens circling above. On and on it went, with some extreme switchbacks and far steeper gradient than the previous ride in the Pyrenees. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip.

Like the selfie ? No ? I thought not.

A few days later we were in the Aveyron region. I love it here, it's the arse end of nowhere, great scenery and not too many people. Nice campsite right on a 500 acre reservoir. You could fish and be served chilled wine/beer and cheese from ten yards away. How civilized.

See, I told you so. When we arrived, the wind was pushing strongly into our bay. I was convinced I'd have one of the huge carp that reside in this lake. On went an eleven year old Nash pineapple boilie. Sure enough, after an hour or so the rod bent over and I was attached to a very heavy, angry carp that was ripping line off and heading for a load of sunken trees. I put a massive amount of pressure on, just managing to keep it out of the snags, but just as it seemed I was going to land it, the hook pulled out. Oh dear. I was not pleased.

Next day I took a canoe out and saw four of the biggest carp I've ever seen. They were huge.

Unfortunately, that was to be the only carp I hooked, as the weather changed and it became very hot, with a strong wind, unfortunately of my back. Oh well. I managed some really good sized roach and tench though, so still had some fun. Lovely place too.

Time to head north for the ferry. We stayed on the banks of the Loire for a night, where the detritus of the recent floods prevented me fishing the river. Well, I fished, had three casts and three snag ups and then gave up.

We had a bit of excitement in Belgium when I drove on the wrong side of the roadt on the outskirts of Antwerp, being roundly abused and laughed at by drinkers outside a bar. Somehow we ended up in a campsite in the city, but it wasn't such a bad choice, as within two minutes we'd found a nice riverside bar.

A great trip and I love the old bus already.

Slow Down....

It all happens at once, doesn't it ? We sit around in the winter, then it all kicks off in spring and summer. Been too busy to blog again, it's been ages.

Loaded up the camper at the beginning of June for a three week trip around France and northern Spain. It's a big beast ( LHD too ) and prior to leaving I'd only driven it a few times, so it was a question of learning as you went.

First stop was a very quiet site in the Loire, then on quickly south, next stop near Limoges, then a lovely quiet village in between Carcasonne and the Pyrenees, conveniently situated on a huge lake.

Lovely restaurant close by, I'd bore you with what we eat but you're not interested are you ? It was run by a British couple and they had bangers and mash on the menu. The French were lapping it up. Really.

Into the Pyrenees for a bit of cycling and a go at rock climbing.There's nothing I can't do (apart from wire a plug ).

Me and brother in law Ian attacked the Col Du Pradel on a cold Sunday morning, reaching the 1680 metre summit in a time that Chris Froome and co would not be proud of. We were though, a couple of fifty somethings cycling uphill for getting on for an hour. The descent was terrifying, especially as I over cooked one corner and narrowly avoided a rather steep drop.

Rock climbing the next day. It was strangely enjoyable.

The weather in the Pyrenees was a bit iffy, so on to the Spanish side we went. Surprisingly, it wasn't much warmer, but we stayed a  a couple of cracking places.

I'd not got the rods out since we set out, but had plans to change that in the coming week......

The Merry Month of May

May, my favourite month. Goes so quick. This month I've mostly been.....outside. Too busy to blog.

In the bluebell woods

Everything bursts into life in May, pity it doesn't last for longer. All the spring flowers are pretty much finished now. Shame.

Dave with a double figure roker. Corker.

Fishing has been patchy. Very few bass, no codling. Skate fishing unpredictable, at one point I had four blanks on the trot, then it improved and I had eighteen decent fish in two trips lasting no more than three hours each. 

Trimmingham with Lucky Bob and the Norfolk boys

Had a hound session at Trimmingham with the Norfolk mafia. Unfortunately, the weed was horrific, but we managed a few small hounds with Lucky Bob having the best at around 6lb.

Lucky Bob....just about the best angler on the east coast

I did manage a few myself

Spent a bit of time grooving up the van....

Digging rag worm on the marshes

Spring On Hold

APRIL is the cruellest month, 
Breeding lilacs out of the dead land, 
Mixing memory and desire, 
Stirring  dull roots with spring rain.

T.S.Eliot

The Wasteland

Bloody weather, getting sick of it. Sleet showers on Tuesday, temperatute at 3 pm 3 degrees C. There's been some bright days, but not many I'd describe as warm.

Not been all bad though. A few weeks ago I did my first 10 km race (  I started at a marathon and am working backwards ) at Little Bromley. 500 runners, a flat course and a breezy, sunny day. Finished in 45.04, so not bad. Then celebrated at Luccas Italian restaurant in Manningtree. Great place.

Also spent all my money on this....

The roker have temporarily disappeared, I've blanked three times on the trot. No codling and bass yet to show.

I'm sure things will pick up soon.

In the Woods

"Oh, to be in England now April's here"
Robert Browning

In Wrabness woods with Mason and "Young Charles". Forget your ransoms Wak Baines, look at the wood anemones.

They last about three, maybe four weeks. Not long enough, so get out there and take it in while you can.