Tales from the Tendring Flatlands

Tales from the Tendring Flatlands
Summer Bassing

Sunday 15 February 2015

Blog Transfer

All my musings, half baked theories and embarrassing spelling mistakes will now be made under the following blog.......


Toodle Pip.

Tuesday 27 January 2015


It's cold and there's not much to do. January, the worst month ?
Well, not in some ways. Look at it this way......
Every month from now on is going to be better than this one.
It's quickly getting lighter in the evenings.
The light generally is much better than in those dank, murky days in November and December.
Not long until the clocks go forward.
Warm sunny days ahead.

That's the best I can do. Now cheer up you bastards.

Tuesday 30 December 2014

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.

Friday 28 November 2014

"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.

Thursday 20 November 2014

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.

Sunday 9 November 2014

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.

Wednesday 5 November 2014

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.