Monday 10 April 2017

February Wrassing

A short video taken in mid February-

Wrasse film on Vimeo


Despite the amazing conditions we struggled to get bites, perhaps the wrasse were a little sluggish due to the cold water. I did see one follow the lure in, and a garfish swiped at my lure as I lifted it out the water. However, a change in spot resulted in 3 in 3 casts!

Lure- Lunkercity Swimming ribster 4" on a Texas rig.


Friday 7 April 2017

Testing a 3 weight

It was another great looking April day, and I'd done more than enough reading of papers to give the urge to escape. Unfortunately my replacement rod tip section for the predator fly rod hadn't yet arrived, so I decided to shift from my original plan of targeting larger carp at a local water to trying to put a bend in the 3 weight rod. Skirting my way around the main roads, following the back lanes, I made it over to a friend's lake. This water was a regular during my early teen years and I knew that there'd be feeding fish about. I had a great afternoon, landing 4 common carp between 3 and 4lbs which gave me a great fight on the light fly tackle. Individuals could be picked out with a gentle flick of the fly over their nose, before they piled for the lilies in the centre- great fun! A short (poor quality) video of the trip is included below!



Tuesday 4 April 2017

Kayaks with Dolphins


Myself and Stuart were neck deep in exams and assignments for our course, I had a week of events to plan for the Falmouth Christian Union, and stress levels were creeping up. So naturally, we thought, we needed a fishing trip to save us going crazy. I’d been in Dartmoor over the weekend, but all the while eying the wind forecast for the week- it looked like we’d have a window between Tuesday and Wednesday. Stuart protested a trip on Tuesday (for the record I still think that a group project is an invalid excuse), so Wednesday it was.

The days running up to the trip were spent in the library studying frantically, interspersed with myself and Stuart hyping each other up for our fishing trip- it had been over a month for me since wetting a line! March had come, and so Stuart had plaice on his mind, having researched where we might find the sandy ground that they favour. Meanwhile I was driven towards the urge of catching a ray, after Stuart’s success during the previous trip. Matt kindly leant me his boat rod (a formidable beast with a solid beech wood handle), which I balanced with the a suitably beefy baitcasting reel and 40lb mono line. This ran down to a 2-hook flapper rig and 6oz lead. I felt suitably equipped to bring any monster of the deep up on this set up!

I awoke on Wednesday and crammed as much toast as I could down my gullet, washed down with a cup of black filter coffee. Rucksack shouldered, boots on and rod in hand; I headed over to Stuart’s. For the very first time when I reached Stuart’s door he wasn’t eating his breakfast- something was up! Eventually Stuart came down, sporting a hilarious combination of clothing- though perfectly functional for the trip ahead. We went through plans for the morning ahead, either to head over to Gylly and fish the sand patches just off the beaches, or to head out into the Fal. Given the strong tide we decided upon fishing the Fal, where we could later drift with the tide down to St Anthony’s head. Stuart then produced a well-illustrated guide of the benthic structure of the area of the Fal we were to fish, along with sight markers to position ourselves and the location of the deep channel. It transpired that Stuart had only slept a pitiful couple of hours, being restless for the trip ahead, giving him plenty of time to draw out this map and prepare himself for the trip.

Suitable attire for the water


We carried the kayaks down by the usual route through Falmouth to launch them, only stopping to lift them over inconveniently placed barriers and to stop Stuart’s rodtip from snapping (having got caught on some ivy in an alleyway and bending to a most alarming angle). The tide was right up at the quay, posing a slightly more challenging launch than usual- but launch we did! We headed out into the main channel of the Fal, optimistic of our chances after seeing garfish and mackerel at the surface. After we had just passed the naval ship Stuart shouted over that he had just seen a Dolphin. I scanned the horizon of the water with as much focus as my tired eyes could muster, returning nothing. But we continued to paddle ahead and eventually there it was- dolphin! This was soon followed by another, and more, until we couldn’t look far in the bay without seeing a breaching fin. It’s fair to say that at this point we were reasonably excited; our chances seemed to be fair at the least!



We followed the pod of common dolphins north up Carrick Roads past the green marker buoy, knowing that we’d drift rapidly with the strong spring tide. At this point the dolphins were all around the kayaks, and close too! Harry had kindly left his GoPro for us to use during the trip with a set of instructions, though we still fumbled the controls (probably due to tiredness and dolphin adrenaline) as we were transfixed with wonder at the sight around us. I saw one come up to breathe about 30 metres away from the side of me, heading straight for the kayak. Again, it surfaced: 20m. Then 5m. My breath was taken away as it swam right under the front end of the kayak, moving with such sinuous fluidity and grace through its aquatic habitat. We soon saw why there was such a number around us as we were both quick into mackerel, and all of this before most of Falmouth had awoken!

A selection of Stuart's catch later being prepared


We continued to drift South down the Fal, and were soon getting tired with the unavoidable mackerel- they were even taking large fillets of mackerel on the flapper rig intended for rays! I tied up to the West-Narrows buoy with the intention of getting my ray fix, being able to fish a static bait out of the tidal drift. However, the sea around this spot seemed dead and whilst I could see Stuart still pulling up mackerel on his feathers, neither my baited feathers nor mackerel fillet and sandeel on the flapper had any luck. I gave it 45 minutes and then untied, joining Stuart at his productive mackerel patch. Lowering my feathers over the side of the kayak into to still water below, I tried to catch up with Stuart’s lead, whilst he paddled over to a pair of hand liners. They marvelled at the standard of the size of mackerel Stuart had piled into his hold, and with information on the best spots for mackerel and plaice exchanged, they headed back up the Fal.


Tying up to the buoy on a glassy calm sea.

After 20 minutes, we paddled over to St Anthony’s head in search of plaice, following Stuart’s detailed diagram to the point. However, time passed without any joy, and after a few drifts and repositionings we decided to head back up the Fal. We battled against the tide flooding out of the bay, to reach the deep channel just outside of St Mawes. Here I embarrassed myself, being most excited to finally hook into something on the bottom that put a bend into the beefy boat rod- could it be something significant? What greeted me in the net however was instead the biggest mackerel I think I have ever seen. Hence I named him Cthulhu, christened with a bash from the priest. After pulling up complete strings of mackerel that left the feathers in an utter tangle, and a surprise pair of whiting to each of us, we decided to head on home to Falmouth.

St Anthony's head looms ahead

The paddle home was painful, excruciating at points. I cursed my lack of strength against the tide, and despaired of the numbness that stretched uncomfortably from my buttocks to lower back. As we finally landed at the quay, the falling tide had left the beach exposed for us to land on, and the kayaks blissfully kissed the sand below as the glided to a halt. We finished our paddle that day at a total of 15km, and proceeded to pee in celebration, before cramming down some much needed malt loaf. We gutted our catch, with myself ending the day on 19 mackerel and 2 whiting, Stuart on 25 mackerel and a single whiting. However, I won the prize for biggest mackerel, with Cthulhu tipping the scales at 1lb 7oz.

Never has a person looked upon fish with such adoration