Make Way For The Manitoba Monster

So, it was time for the third World Dab Championships, at Dunwich.  A paltry turn out of four, me, Conan The Whittler, Hairy Ray Krakov and all the way from Canada, The Manitoba Monster, son of the legendary Shanus "The Anus" Morris. A motley crew indeed.

No shows included Concrete Neil (working), Turdster (working) and Goozgog (scared to leave the house).

Weather was as it always is for this event, gloriously sunny. Krakov and Whittler arrived early and as we were just leaving, we got a text saying they'd yet to have a bite. No rush then, so we stopped at the cafe in Marlesford for a proper breakfast, two bacon, two sausage, two eggs and toast. And in The Manitoba Monster's case, that plus baked beans, mushrooms, black pudding, hash browns and half rump of venison too. Greedy bastard.

The Manitoba Monster playing pocket billiards

We eventually arrived at about 11 and they still hadn't had a bite. It was low water though and we were hopeful things would pick up when the first of the flood started.

In a short while we started catching whiting, with a couple of double shots, but the dabs remained conspicuous by their absence. In the distance I saw Krakov land a just about sizable codling ( stop sniggering at the back Whittler ), so things were picking up.

When we'd just about given up on the dabs The Manitoba Monster reeled in a small one, followed by a real chunky specimen, a potential match winner in fact. He then followed it up with another of similar size on the last cast of the day.

Due to the fact that the rest of us hand been dab less, The Manitoba Monster became 2014 World Dab Champion. No trophy was presented, no cash was won, he was just given extra tackle to carry over the shingle back to the car.

Krakov and Whittler stayed on for an hour into dark and wangled out a few more codling, so there's a few about.

World Dab Champion 2014

We started with a big brekkie, the sun shone, we drank tea, took the piss out of each other and occasionally caught a few fish, a nice day out in my book.

"You Must Remember Her "

I said to the The Whittler. " Lived at the end of Station Road....had two brothers, one sister...good looking ?"
"Ohhhhhh" he said, " Yeah, the sister looks like a crow ". After falling about laughing I realised he was right, she does look like a crow.

The Madness Continues

"It can't last", "They'll move offshore soon", etc, etc. The Whittler had been lying low for more than a week, as had The Mighty Turdster, so as soon as some decent evening tides coincided with pleasant, calm weather we decided on another "assault" on the roker at the looooocal beach.

I say assault, because at the moment that's what it feels like. There are so many of them at the moment that after an evening fishing you feel absolutely knackered. But who knows, maybe we wouldn't catch any tonight.

The Whittler and Turdster were already tackled up when I arrived, about three and a half hours before high tide. As I'm getting my gear ready Turdy calls out. "I've got a double shot !" And I look up as he slides two roker up the beach. Here we go......

Soon I'm in, as is The Whittler and it continues on and off ( mostly on ) all night. In the end I was hoping for whiting as I was getting sick of them (I've made that bit up ). On six occasions I had a double shot of roker, mostly smallish, 2-4lb, but with several better ones 5-8lb plus. When the roker eased up we were catching some decent whiting and quite a few of those just sizeable codling.

Just as the tide turned I hooked into an obviously bigger fish and after a few minutes gently easing it in ( cue the jokes Turd ), a chunky roker of 11lb 8 oz hit the beach. This fish was ready to spawn and as we unhooked it, it was in the process of shedding egg sacks. In November ! I returned it, hopefully to successfully spawn and produce yet more of the bastards.

In the aftermath of nuclear war, the only things to survive will be cockroaches and roker.

I then had a slackliner, resulting in a treble shot of two decent codling, 2-21/2lb and a whiting. As the tide slackened the roker came back on the feed and me and Turdy called it a day, leaving that ultra keen, bad arsed fishing machine, The Whittler, to continue hammering the fish until 1.30 in the morning.

I ended up with 25 roker, a couple of decent codling ( and quite a few just on size ) and a dozen keeper whiting. Whittler pipped me with 26 roker, and Turdy had about 10, although he only fished one rod and ended up with lots of whiting and codling.

Feel totally wiped out today. Bloody good fun though.

Fill Yer Boots

Well, you've got to, when the fish are about haven't you ? It can't go on forever.

A really rough, windy week, since me and The Whittler enjoyed a successful evening session on Tuesday, but today a small window where the wind dropped, before being forecast to pick up again tonight. So, I thought it would definitely be worth a try, even in the daytime.

I asked Turdous and Whittler if they were up for it, but due to lack interest and family commitments, neither could make it. I arrived and was pleased to sea a heavily coloured, calm sea. Confidence was pretty high and first cast the tip pulled over and a just undersized codling hit the shingle. I looked up and the "herring" rod had gone slack, a sure sign of a roker. A minute or so later the first skate of the day was in the bag.

Great start and it continued steadily until about an hour before the top of the tide when I decided to put a three hook paternoster on, to see if any whiting were about. First chuck and I had a full house. Let the cull commence.

I spoke to a bloke having a walk with his son and warned them that an extra high tide was forecast and that they could be cut off for a while, unless they hurried back. He quickly walked off towards the car park. About half hour later another chap turned up and said he'd seen a bloke wading across a dyke up to his thighs in water, holding a young boy, and did I know how he could get back without getting his stylish city slicker Clarkes office shoes wet ? No, not until the tide turns old boy.

The first hour and a half of the ebb was fairly quiet, with just the occasional whiting. After the tide eased it went a bit mad, with double and treble shots of whiting and roker/whiting. During this time a Beach Gentleman, who had set up camp ( no pun intended ) a couple of hundred yards away, decided to move to within twenty yards of me, whereupon he sat staring out to sea in all his naked glory (yes, in November). This pissed me off somewhat. Plenty of space for everyone and each to their own , but keep your distance, I really don't want to see your old chap.

The last hour (about two to three hours down) really was busy, with roker hitting baits along with the whiting. At this stage it was difficult to keep up with two rods. They were still feeding hard when I packed up, having used up all the bait and not had anything to eat or drink all day.

Final score, 16 roker ( all smallish, best going just under 5lb ) and about 15-20 keeper whiting, plus others and a single codling. Another good day.

Words of Wisdom

Me and The Whittler thought we'd give it another go last night, just to prove the previous session was  a one off failure.

The Mighty Turdster made his pronouncement "you can't possibly improve on the last few weeks sessions, it's downhill from now on" and any lesser success we did have would be a disappointment "Like playing with yourself after f**king Cheryl Cole". He has a wonderful way with words.

Anyway, we had a really good few hours, with seven roker each, including a couple of fish around 8lb, loads of good sized keeper whiting and a few small codling. Lovely, calm evening. Sea flat calm, with an electrical storm raging offshore.

"It's A Game of Two Halves, Brian" or "The Ways of Fish".

After our very successful  sessions last week, we were planning another assault on the local beach. Me, The Mighty Turdster and The Whittler were deciding whether to go Friday or Saturday.

Friday was incredibly warm, 21 degrees C, light winds, more like summer than autumn. The Turdster decided to fish the Friday afternoon and in those conditions I was sure he was wasting his time. A few minutes after he arrived I had a text " I've had two in two casts". What ? In bright sunshine and flat calm sea ? He sent a photo to prove it. A while later, "I've had five", then "Seven now". Bastard.

Obviously I abused him and told him to stop texting me, it's so annoying when you're mate's are fishing and hammering the fish out and you're not.

Another double shot for the Turdster.

I kept telling myself, "They'll still be there  tomorrow", but I couldn't convince myself, so I set off to join Turdy with the intention of fishing the ebb from about 17.00 to 20.00. I practically ran the mile and a bit to the mark( yes, at 50 years old I still get childishly excited). "Got nine now" he said.

I tackled up, cast out and first cast the tip pulled over slowly and I was off the mark with a nice roker. The first half hour was a little slow until the tide started to pull, then all hell broke loose, with fish on both rods simultaneously. It was ridiculous and absolutely non stop.

A "Beach Gentleman" Don't ask....

I broke off occasionally to text the Whittler, knowing how it would annoy him. It's what you do to your mates.

I called out to The Turdster, "They're on the herring quicker than the squid". He didn't reply, just gave me a classic Turdster look that said "Who gives a fuck, I've had more fish than ever before and I'm totally knackered".

Double shot of roker

We packed up at 20.00 with the fish still feeding, having run out of bait and had more than our fill. We lost count in the end, but we both had over twenty roker each, plus a few whiting and codling.

The next day The Whittler, having not been able to fish Friday, said he was going to get down there and give it a crack. Being a greedy bloke I said I'd join him.

The Whittler hard at work

In a nutshell, same place, similar tide, a day later and not a single roker. Just a  few whiting and a couple of codling for The Whitler. I've given up trying to work out the ways of fish.

Hoping Lightening Will Strike Twice......

After Wednesday's manic session, me and The Whittler, this time accompanied by The Mighty Turdster, decided ( that makes it sound like we considered not going. We didn't, we couldn't wait to get back down there ) to fish Friday night, to see if there were still a few roker about.

Me and The Whittler endured the long walk, to be greeted by Turdy who informed us he'd just had a run in with a big dog fox that had crept up on him and came up to within a few feet of him. Despite being 6' 2" and sixteen stone Turdy is a bit of a "Scaredy Cat" and pulled his knife on the fox before asking if he could fish next to The Whittler in case it showed up again.

As we were tackling up, I heard shouting from the Turdster's direction and as I looked up a nice roker slid up the beach. Good to see this early in the tide. My first cast and it'd only been out a few minutes and I had a slackliner, resulting in a double shot of roker.....another first for me, although they weren't very big. The next few casts produced whiting, lots of them, most just undersized.

We were all catching well, mostly whiting, with codling, roker and dogs thrown in. Not as busy as Wednesday night, but good fishing nevertheless. High tide came and went and, it being getting towards 2 a.m, The Turdster laid down, had a smoke and nodded off. A few minutes later an almighty crash and his rod rest had collapsed, as a roker dragged one of his rods seawards. Turdy managed to grab the rod and beached another nice one of around 5lb.

It was time to go ( although The Whittler, being a hard, hungry bastard  fished on for another hour ) and the final scores were, me, 6 roker ( not as big as the other night, most 3-4lb ), 6 codling to 2lb, one big dog and lots of whiting, including a few good'uns. The Whittler had 4 roker, plus codling and whiting, but the honours just about went to The Mighty Turdster with 6 good sized roker, plus codling and whiting.

Another very enjoyable session. Looking forward to the next one already.

October Madness

No photos on this one I'm afraid. Me and Conan The Whittler had intended to fish the local beach on Tuesday evening, but due to the arse end of Hurrcane whatever the feck it's called, we bailed out and decided to go the following night.
I had a crap afternoon and by 8 in the evening almost didn't bother going, but as I knew The Whittler was already down there fishing, I thought I better make the effort.
I turned up at 9.15, Whittler told me he'd had a few whiting and on my first cast the rod pulled over, was met with firm resistance and a few minutes later a 6lb roker hit the beach. Nice start. Cast out out again and a minute later same thing happens. And again. In the first 45 minutes I'd had five roker. That is ridiculous for shore fishing anytime, but October ?
The Whittler was catching plenty of whiting but remain rokerless. Then suddenly I heard a shout and his rod hooped over and he was in.
This continued all night, until we packed up at 2.00, knackered and covered in slime, bait and sweat.
The final tally was Whittler,  four codling, two big doggies, 40 plus whiting and four roker. Me, a dozen whiting, three codling and twenty ( yes 20 ) roker.
Most of the roker were caught at very close range, maybe 40-60 yards out. There's definitely a gully in front of where I was, me and The Whittler were fishing pretty much the same and it was obvious there were more roker in front of me.
Herring outfished squid three or four to one this evening.
After our buckets were filled with fish we were chucking sizeable codling and 5-6lb roker back......there was no way we could have carried them for a mile or more over the shingle. As it was, the walk back took twice as long as normal, as we kept stopping to "change hands".
A ridiculously good night's fishing that I don't ever expect to see repeated.

Summer Over - Official

Went for a quick (very quick) session for bass with The Mighty Turdster. Very windy, cold with showers. It wasn't T shirt weather. The water was heavily coloured due to the high wind.

 We gave it a quick go, but with no real enthusiasm. Summer's gone.

One Will Do

I had some ragworm left and although the tides were not ideal today, with low water falling at 11.00 a.m, I decided to have another quick session. Weather was about spot on for a day tide, being dull and breezy, so I thought I may have a chance or two.

As soon as the tide started to flood I worked my way along the ridge, a cast here and there before moving on, until I got to the ( current ) favourite spot. First cast and within seconds the float shot under and I frantically wound in the slack as the fish bolted towards me. When I finally made contact with it it went mad, firstly thrashing on the surface and then stripping several yards of braid off the reel, before eventually being beached on the mudbank.

A thick set bass of around 3lb, in perfect condition. Worth making the effort to "use up the worms". It'll be interesting to see how long the bass remain in the estuary before disappearing for the winter.

It Ain't Just The Fishing

Conan The Whittler - A legend at 51 years old, still wearing a backward facing baseball cap, referring to women as "bitches" and DJ ing three times a week at the nation's top nightclubs. He catches a few bass too.

A quiet,misty morning. Wangled one decent bass of around two and a half pounds before the sun burnt through..

Lee The Lure Man

It's as much about the place, the scenery and the company ( especially when you don't catch much ). A few photos from the lonely, desolate Essex mudflats taken over the last couple of weeks. Not everyone's cup of tea, but I love the emptiness and the sense of space.                                                                                                                                    

This has been the best spot for the last couple of weeks. Very, very shallow, but consistently produces fish

Looking west across the mudflats with Manningtree in the distance

Bass, Bass and More Bass

I kept saying to anyone who would listen ( the list was very short ), " The big tides at the end of September will give us the best bassing of the year if conditions are right ". So, me and Conan The Whittler went down the river on Sunday evening, just before low water and dug some ragworm, ready to fish the first hour and a half of the flood.
There was a brisk northerly wind blowing directly straight on to us, which had coloured the water somewhat. Still, it wasn't too bad. We packed up a couple of hours later without a proper bite. Unfortunately, there was a boat drift netting for bass in the river at the time, though whether this was the reason for our failure I don't know.

A day later the wind dropped and went round to the west, so I decided to give it another go at same place, same  tide state. First chuck a bass hit the ragworm on the drop and before I could strike the clutch screamed as a seriously pissed off bass headed seawards in a foot of water. It was obviously a decent fish and when it finally came into view I put it at approaching 5lb. Safely landed and on the scales it went 4lb 8oz, a real corker for the river.

Next cast and I was in again, this time a nice fish just over 2lb. The action continued for 90 minutes until the tide forced me off the mudflats .
I ended up with seven bass, six between 2lb and four and a half pounds.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth I was down there again next morning at dawn, when it was still dark. A little isotope on the float, a check to see if tide had started to flood and a ten yard cast and within seconds the float shot under and yet another cracking bass violently thrashed on the surface, before being quickly beached. I had four fish in the next half hour, all good'uns, whereupon it went quiet.

I sent a text to The Whittler telling ( boasting ) of my successs. "You mad bastard, you're obsessed with it" he said. I then told him what great condition the fish were in and immediately got a text back saying " I know. I'm down my local spot and I've had three to 3lb 12oz ". Ha ! So I'm not the only one.
Next day and we had some bait left over so we went to Frinton for a few hours. Whiting, small codling, pouting, rockling and The Whittler had a nice sole. But it was a bit tame compared to light tackle bassing.

I'm knackered today, but may struggle out for an hour this evening. It would be a shame to waste good bait (that's my excuse).

On The Good Ship Turdster

Got back from Ireland on Saturday and Sunday morning I was digging ragworm for a trip with The Mighty Turdster on Monday, out from Shotley on the Stour estuary. I say "out from Shotley", it's about 200 yards off Shotley. The Turdster likes to keep close to home.
Another beautiful day, light south easterly winds and bright sunshine.
We started fishing just as the tide started to flood, me float fishing and Turdous chucking out a 4 oz breakaway in the briney. Turdous had the first four fish, little schoolie bass around the pound mark, that all came in covered in weed and detritus. I lectured him about how angling is a quest for sport, not merely results ( due to me being 4-0 down at this stage ) and how float fishing enables you to enjoy the fight without tonnes of weed deadening the feel.
Being an angling philistine he shrugged and said he "didn't give a shit". I then had a couple of schoolies on the float, then the rod hooped round and the clutch screamed as an obviously bigger fish put up a great battle. Turdous had it in the net first try and a near 4lb bass graced the boat. "Normal service is resumed" I gloated.

 

Turdous was definitely catching more fish than me, but none were keepers. Then I tried a light ledger off the back of the boat and was immediately into another decent fish. Lovely. Did I rub it in ? Just a bit. I can be an insufferable twat.
The schoolie bass continued to feed, along with whiting, flounders and, oh dear, hideous eels, for The Mighty Turdster. To be fair, he was loving it. He did eventually get one bass that he said was "over the legal size limit" and this predictably was cracked on the heed and taken home for someone on an extreme diet to snack on (sorry Turd).

You might think The Tiurdster is pissed off in this photo. He's not, this is his default expression. He's a miserable git, it's part of his charm.
A great day all round. Cheers Cap'n.

Somewhere in South West Ireland.....

Off to West Cork with The Mighty Turdster and guide Jim O'Donnell. Arrived early enough for a quick fish on Sunday and managed to see a pod of dolphins and snare a mullet of about 2lb in the harbour, before retiring to The Lifeboat Inn for a welcome pint and a bite to eat.
Monday was the first full day and after a blank hour at Ring, plugging for bass, Jim suggested a trip to a rock mark, protected from the moderate easterly wind. The Turdster had a nervous look on his face when Jim put on his rucksack which was adorned with assorted rock climbing equipment.

The first mark resulted in a lost pollock for Jim, but little else, so on to the next mark we went. We were into fish immediately, starting off with some decent pollock, mostly 3-4lb, on red gill type lures. I then changed over to wrasse gear with stick worms fished really close in. 
There were wrasse everywhere and I had fifteen casts resulting in a bite or a fish, before I managed a retrieve without any interest. Most were 2-3lb, with the occasional bigger fish . It was great sport. After a while I changed back to the pollock gear and had a couple more. Final tally was eight pollock for Jim ( and several more lost), plus a few wrasse, five pollock and seven wrasse for me and a couple of pollock for Turdster. A really enjoyable day.

Tuesday morning dawned sunny again and thankfully the east wind had dropped right off. Jim suggested a quick session after mullet at Rosscarbery. We arrived to see fish everywhere, big buggers too,
but they were incredibly shy and drifted off as soon as they saw or heard you. We were fishing with bubble floats and bread crust on the surface and soon we were all getting fish nudging and swirling at the bait. I was somewhat surprised, as I've always found mullet almost impossible to catch.
After about half an hour I hooked a fish that shot off at a rate of knots in the shallow water. With only a 5lb trace I had to be careful and I was relieved a few minutes later when the fish hit the net. At 4lb 12oz it was the biggest I've ever had, so I was well pleased.

 As we were photographing the fish, The Turdster shouted out that he had one on Jim's rod, which was just about to be pulled over the wall and into the water, before he grabbed it.. He played it for a fair while before the hook pulled. Bad luck Turdous.
After a quick break for lunch we were off for more rock fishing, this time to a mark that was "more easily accessible". It was certainly easier access than the previous day, although it still entailed a steep climb.
First cast with the red gill and I was in to a pollock of around 3lb. Then another of the same size. Time for a change. On with the wrasse gear and as soon as the lure hit the bottom it was nailed with a thump by a decent wrasse.

Then another. And another. And on it went. Great fun.

After a while we decided to try a new  unfished mark, where the fishing was, if anything, even better. One little cove had 45-50 feet of water a rod length out.

The first few casts resulted in pollock of 2-4lb, then I was attached to something bigger, which quickly became snagged, after it dived into the rocks. Somehow I managed to get it free and as it came into view in the gin clear water it was apparent it was a much bigger fish. A few minutes later I was holding a cracking pollock of just under 6lb, a real corker. The Turdster and Jim were catching wrasse and pollock too and for the last hour of the flood tide I tried various gullies for wrasse, almost all of which produced fish. What a fantastic place.

Wednesday we tried bassing at Ring to no avail, the increasing easterly wind proving to be a royal pain in the arse. Absolutely beautiful place though.

 After lunch we moved to the harbour to try for a mullet. As Jim had predicted, the mullet were making their way into the harbour in a few inches of water, munching on the bread we'd chucked in. Within a few minutes I'd had a big mullet pick up the bread, I struck and missed. Then a few minutes later, the same thing happened. The third time a real clonker picked up the bait and this time I managed to hook the fish, which tore off in the shallow water. It looked massive and I was well relieved when it hit the landing net . A real beast of a mullet at 6lb. I know I'm highly unlikely to catch one of that size ever again.

Thursday and it was livebaiting for bass with mackeral. It was a really slow day, but Alan Houlihan had a real brute of a bass of between 9 and 10lb. Well done that man.

Friday and the wind was worse than ever. We tried a few spots, more in hope than expectation, but over low water I first had a doggie, then a small huss around 4lb. We started to try a bit harder after this and this resulted in a vicious bite and the familiar jagging of a bass, which annoyingly managed to snag itself in the rocks. Can't win 'em all I suppose. The Turdster was rolling a fag when his rod headed towards the sea rather quickly, but somehow the fish avoided hooking itself.
We packed up after this and headed to The Lifeboat Inn at Courtmacsherry. Highly recommended, good atmosphere and decent food. Another place highly recommended is Woodpoint Bed and Breakfast, also in Courtmacsherry. Friendly people, comfortable accommodation and great food.
And finally thanks to the hyper active, super keen Jim O'Donnell for putting us on to fish on a "hard" week, as he put it. Good company, great scenery and some cracking fish. I've had harder weeks !