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I’m always prepared to switch to fly fishing if the mullet are in or if the bass are feeding on maggots, Idotea or fry. The eight weight fly rod has a floating, weight-forward line and a straight nylon or tapered cast. Flies range from poly maggots to streamers and small plastic eels.

 

 

18^th March

My pal Ben and I generally have a go at the bass in March and with the weather looking good we decided to give it a try the other morning. It was a bit chilly when we set off along the shore at 05.15 hr but otherwise conditions looked good. Would the fish agree with us?

 We picked a couple of spots and began to fish. Ben was using a Maria Chase plug and I started off with a pearly coloured Angel Kiss, both the lures are very shallow divers. After half-an-hour with nothing it was beginning to get light and I saw a swirl close to the rock on which I was standing. Next cast something tried to snatch the plug as I was about to lift it out. In the next few casts I had another swirl and miss followed by a sharp pull which I failed to hook.

 

By now Ben had moved a bit closer to me so that he could fish nearer the rocks where I stood. Again he had several snatches at the plug but nothing stuck. We decided that the bass must have been pretty small and simply were not coping with the big lures too well. On another day we might have hooked a few of them.

 

The most interesting event happened just before we packed in. For the last ten minutes I switched lures to a countdown Rapala. On one retrieve I fouled a little strip of old kelp. As I lifted it from the water I noticed that it was covered in Idotea (marine woodlice as I call them). Further investigation showed that the waters edge was like woodlouse soup. No doubt the bass were feeding on these little crustaceans - perhaps we should have had our fly rods with us?

 

4^th April

 

Isn't it always the way? You have week upon week of fine, warm, sunny weather - you arrange to go fishing with someone and an hour before you are due to meet the heavens open. Sod's law was operating true to form the other morning when Ben and I met our friend James for a session down at the coast. "Twenty past five!" I'd said. "In the car park!" I'd allowed plenty of time to walk to our fishing spot before it got light. It was just as well. As we set off on the twenty minute drive to the coast, not only was it raining heavily but on top of the Purbeck hills it was thick fog which slowed us to a crawl. When we arrived at the cliff top James was already waiting, eager to try and catch his first bass.

We grabbed the gear and set off along the shore in the pouring rain over wet, slippery cobbles and boulders. For twenty minutes or so it was a matter of picking our way over the treacherous footing but eventually we were ready to fish. Ben, in his waders, stood on a ledge while James (in his wellies) and I moved along a bit further and began to cast from the beach. The sea was calm and clear with no loose weed so fishing was easy. I was trying out a new lure - a shallow diving Maria Fakebait - very similar to the popular 'Chase' plugs. James fished with a good old Rapala J11 - always reliable and very easy to use because of the strong vibrations it gives off.

 

It was still pretty dark and for a while we cast and retrieved without incident. I commented to James that there was only a fifty-fifty chance of a fish for any of us at this time of the year. I also said we could probably not expect anything until it was light enough to see the lures splashing down at the end of a cast. As it turned out it was a little bit longer than that before James let out a shout. I looked to see that the rod was bent and a fish was plunging about on the end of the line. He played the fish as though he'd been doing it all his life and before long he was sliding his first ever bass and as he told me, "his largest ever fish!" onto the wet rocks. Fantastic!

 

The bass had engulfed the Rapala from the back and was well hooked on the tail treble. We pinned it down and used my pliers to extract the hook before taking a couple of pictures in the gloom. Then it was back to fishing. It was a little while before I had a bite and missed it then a few minutes later I hooked and landed a bass, a bit smaller than the first one. By now it was quite light, the rain had stopped and it was threatening to be a beautiful sunny day. We packed in and walked back to the car. It had turned out right again. No doubt the three of us will be down at the sea to try and catch another one before long.

 

12^th April

A couple of people have recently picked up on me talking about catching bass at first light. The general idea was to ask why I didn't fish at night because, without a doubt, these fish will bite well in the dark on both plugs and poppers. I'm sure that, when you get down to it bass will take lures at any point in the twenty-four hours. I've certainly caught plenty of them in pitch darkness and in brilliant sunshine. However, there is no doubt that many predatory fish are most active at the change of light.

Why should this be? Well firstly let me make my excuses. I like to get up early and it's a long time since I used to fish far into the night so perhaps I'm biased. Nevertheless, there are certain places that I fish where the only time that I can catch a significant number of fish (not just bass but mackerel, pollack, scad and garfish as well) is as the light fades or as it dawns. It can be almost like setting an alarm clock at times. After perhaps half-an-hour's cast and retrieve I'll say - "we should be getting a bite in the next couple of casts!" and whammy - away we go - one after another the fish take our lures. If I'm after wrasse I wait until the sun is up and if I'm after conger, pouting or dogfish there's little point in arriving before it gets dark but fish hunting predators are suckers for dawn and dusk fishing.

 

In March and April things can be a bit slow along the Dorset coast but there's always the chance of a bass if you can be out there before it gets light or in late evening. In the past couple of weeks I've fished three or four times and the only fish we've caught were just as the sky was lightening but before the sun came up. Ben and I fished well into daylight one morning - nothing! Dave Baker and I had a short session in the early evening - same result. Twice my pals and I fished short sessions at first light and between us - three bass.

 

The reasons for this sort of fish behaviour are many but if you just think about a few examples (1) Night tidal plankton animals coming out of the beach to swim about in the surf at dusk, (2) Sandeels burrowing into the sediment as it gets dark and coming out again as it lightens up, (3) Baitfish such as sprats and herrings rising to the surface (and moving close in) at dusk and going down to the seabed at dawn. In tropical waters where the change of light takes place over just a few minutes the restricted activity of predators is even more obvious than in the UK, where the twilight is prolonged, but these three examples are enough to convince me. There are surely marks where you can catch plenty of fish on particular states of the tide irrespective of the time of day and there's lots of fun to be had by slowly twitching a plug or popper across the calm surface in pitch darkness or fishing knee deep in clear water with the sun on your back. Despite this, it's a fact that if you ignore the ends of the day you're liable to miss out on some wonderful sport.

 

19^th April

We've had some lovely sunny weather lately and the winds have often been offshore, giving us flat seas. However, even the slightest breeze can feel icy cold before the sun gets up. The chilly wind means that it's always worth wrapping up warm to go fishing and the other morning, when I went with Ben and Phil, Phil had neglected to bring enough 'layers' of clothes. Fortunately Ben was able to lend him a spare jumper so it could have been worse.

Even when you're well wrapped up the casting finger can get pretty cold after a few minutes of chucking plugs. Anyway, we lined ourselves along the beach and began to fish. We'd put Phil in what we thought was the best spot because he doesn't come with us very often. However, as usual, things did not turn out as we expected and I was the first to have a bite - a nice fat little bass, well hooked on my plug - excellent!

 

Ten minutes later and Ben gave a shout. I looked up to see him with the rod well bent and the fish taking line. I reeled in and nipped back for the camera. As I got close enough for a picture Ben was just carrying his prize ashore, a lovely four pounder. I gave him my pliers and took a few more pictures before returning to the fishing.

 

We fished for a while longer with no more bites and walked on to try a couple more spots - nothing! We bashed on until the sun appeared over the cliffs but that was it for the morning apart from finding the corpse of an oiled gannet on the beach. So much for putting Phil in the 'best spot'.

 

26^th April

This is a tale of three fishing sessions. Usually I go fishing a couple of times each week but when it looks promising I sometimes follow up a session by going on the next tide. This week was one of those. I keep forgetting that we're still in April so any decent fish is a bonus. Anyway - my little story!

My pal Dave Baker rang. He was coming down for a fishing trip and asked if I fancied joining him the following morning for a spot of spinning. We met, in the car park, at quarter to five and set off along the shore. The sea was flat calm and there was no wind at all - easy fishing. We plugged away for a while with nothing to show for our efforts. Eventually we decided to go for our breakfast. On the way back to the car we began to see surface feeding mullet. Neither of us had a fly rod so all we could do was chuck a plug near them in hope of finding the odd bass - nothing!

 

On my drive home I decided to go back that evening armed with my fly gear and a few maggots. This time there was a stiff longshore breeze blowing and to cut a long story short, no sign of any mullet. One other bloke was fly fishing and spinning but between us all we managed were the two smallest bass that I've seen this year - pitiful! I didn't even wave the fly rod about.

 

The following day Ben rang. It turned out that he was going away on business and the only time he could fish was that evening. I told him of my disastrous results the previous day and with conditions, if anything, worse I was not optimistic. When we got to the shore my fears were confirmed, stiff breeze, rough sea, not good. We got back into the car and drove to a sheltered bay, ever hopeful. There were three kayaks out on the sea trolling lures but we could see no signs of action.

 

After plugging for ten minutes and pitching maggoty weed into the sea nothing was happening. Ben, ever observant, said "Look at the gulls along there!" Sure enough a large flock of black headed gulls were on the water in the far corner of the bay. We picked up our gear and trudged along to where the birds were active. It was solid mullet, many of them large, skimming maggots off the surface. Some of the fish were right in the water's edge. We set up the fly rods and baited with maggots. It was not easy fishing. A bit of a breeze, a lop in the edge and lots of weed in the water.  After a few minutes of cursing and cleaning weed off the line I cast along the beach - no more than a couple of metres out, raised the rod and I was into a fish. Eureka!

 

I'd forgotten just how hard it is to control a big mullet on fly tackle. Time after time it ran out to sea and time after time I inched it back towards the beach. Ben happened to have his video camera with him and took a few shots of me following the fish along the beach. Eventually I managed to slide my catch ashore and we took a couple of pictures before returning it to the water. We turned back to the sea to find that our shoal of mullet had moved out to feed on a maggot slick about fifteen metres off. They were in the midst of a horrible choppy, weedy stretch of water. On every cast the fly line became draped with slimy weed like a string of flags - frustrating? I'll say it was. Ben briefly contacted another mullet and we flogged on until it began to get dark but it was hopeless. All in all an interesting reintroduction to the joys of fly fishing for mullet.

 

5^th May

Considering the time of the year Ben and I have been catching a reasonable number of bass from the shore. However, we were both getting the feeling that it might be worth trying one or two other marks in search of a wider variety of fish. My pal was away on business last week so the first chance we had to fish together was this morning. We arranged to meet at 04.00 hr for an exploratory spinning/fly fishing session.

Unusually for him Ben was a couple of minutes late picking me up and when we set off for the coast there were already signs of light in the eastern sky. By the time we arrived at our chosen spot it was already lightening a bit so we both grabbed our fly rods and began to fish. After ten minutes - nothing! We never had a sniff on the flies so Ben picked up his spinning gear armed with a plug and I followed suit but using a small single-hooked wedge.

 

Each of us had a finnicky knock on our lure in the first few minutes - encouraging! There was a fair old swell breaking over the ledge but Ben opted to risk a soaking and fish a bit further out. He was spot on and within a few minutes I could see that he was into a fish. It was obviously something bigger than the small pollack (or what have you) that had plucked at the lures earlier and within a couple of minutes he was hoisting a modest but welcome bass onto the shore - fantastic!

 

We fished on for a little while but after a getting rather wet Ben retreated to where I was standing and I ventured out onto 'his' ledge, commenting as I did so that I'd heard of garfish being caught locally in the past week. Sure enough after a few casts I had a firm take on the wedge and played a smallish gar to the shore. We took its picture and returned to our fishing again. A few more casts and I had another bite. This was much more lively and clearly wasn't a garfish. It turned out to be our first mackerel of the year - I was well pleased. We repeated the photography and fished on. Yet again I had a bite and this one fought harder than either of the others. It was, unmistakably, a bass which I duly landed and returned to the sea with its pals.

 

No more bites were forthcoming on either the spinning or the fly gear so we packed in to walk back to the car. A look at the watch showed that we had been fishing for an hour and a quarter, excellent results considering that, in addition to our catches, we had each had a few mini-bites from small pollack or garfish. We'll be trying again before long.

 

12^th May

Every year at about this time I get lots of emails from keen anglers saying that they've been trying bass plugging but haven't had a sniff. Of course, it's not surprising that it's a bit slow and I usually suggest that anyone new to this branch of the sport waits until June before giving it a go. It's easy to become disillusioned with things when the fish are few and far between.

In a way I suppose that I'm partly responsible for the above emails because I publish quite a lot about bass catches on my website from early March. This doesn't mean that fishing as early as March is either easy or indeed a good idea.   Bass at this season, at least in my neck of the woods, are thin on the ground and widespread and I don't expect to catch something on every session.  The best bet is usually to stick to tried and trusted lures - Jointed Rapalas, Maria Chase, Maria Angel Kiss and the like. It's also wise to fish over spots that are known to produce reasonably consistently and to fish at the best states of tide and conditions. We often get up at about three o'clock to try and maximise chances - which makes it all the more galling when we don't catch. Of course you have the pleasure of seeing lots of wildlife and hearing the best of the dawn chorus but it's not the same as catching fish.

 

At the weekend I had an email from my pal Richard saying that he'd had a fish and lost a bigger one on the Saturday morning. Conditions on Sunday looked even better but when Ben and I tried it, walking miles in the process, it was, to say the least, a bit slow. We managed a few half hearted knocks and I landed one small bass, hooked at maximum range. That's early bassing I'm afraid - if you go be prepared for disappointment but the success, when it comes, is all the more satisfying.

 

18^th May

The trouble with looking at accounts of other people’s fishing is that they always seem to be catching something. Of course it's never like that and everyone has blanks at times. This was my week for a blank. Anyway, it wasn't a total waste because, as it happens Ben and I had been doing a bit of independent exploring with a view to finding some new spots.

Early in the week I went for an early morning fishing session but the place I chose was more or less dead. I popped a large popper for a good half-hour without seeing even a vestige of a bass. I decided that it was going to be futile and thought I'd have a walk to see whether I could find any likely places for the future. It was hard work hiking up and down the cliff path with my rod and my heavy bag and although I had a good view of the sea there was nowhere, as far as I could tell, that I could easily get down to have a closer look. At one spot I saw a big flock of sandwich terns fishing for sandeels and the place just shouted 'bass' but I was still hundreds of feet above the sea. What a downer!

 

When I got home I rang Ben and told him what I'd seen so he said he'd go later in the week and look for a way down to the shore. In fact he did better than that, he asked a friend who knew the area and then he went down to explore the feasibility of the proposed route. He said that when he got to the cliff path it was raining. The path, although passable, was covered in sticky horrible clay but, undaunted he slithered his way down to the sea. He was rodless and the sea was pretty rough but he confirmed what I'd thought about the fishing potential.

 

At the weekend we decided to give the new place (new to us anyway) a go. We got down to the shore fairly quickly but then found that it was a fairly slow process picking our way over the rocks to suitable stances. There was a strong crosswind and the sea was still pretty rough. There was the odd hungry looking tern flapping along the shore but none of them were fishing. A lot of weed was washing about in the surf so we made our way along to the most sheltered area we could find. We split up to fish two different places and using almost identical shallow diving plugs we began to cast. It was not too difficult although on almost every chuck the lure came back adorned with strips of kelp. We flogged away for perhaps half-an-hour then suddenly I felt a hard double yank on the line as a bass grabbed the plug. I was only in contact for a couple of seconds as the fish boiled on the surface and then came unstuck and made good its escape. I was gutted. Neither of us had another sniff despite fishing on for a while longer.

 

However, about ten minutes after my 'missed bite', I suddenly heard a loud splosh above the roar of the wind and waves. Looking down I saw, right in the edge, a huge fin flapping out of the sea. For a moment my heart seemed to stop but I realised that it couldn't possibly be the biggest bass in the world and sure enough, just as I was thinking this, up popped the head of a large seal. It must have been grovelling among the rocks for a fish and waving its flippers in the air. The seal bobbed about and watched me for a few seconds, as they do, but as I turned to grab the camera it dived and disappeared. This seal must have been camera shy because when Ben came back along he said that it had done exactly the same thing to him. As soon as the weather picks up we'll no doubt be giving it another go.

 

 

23^rd May

 

The last blank trip whetted my appetite for another go at the same spot so, with the forecast good for a flat sea, no wind and a pleasant morning I decided to give the place a second try. I didn't really believe the smiling weather forecaster's prediction of a warm night so I put on my usual several layers of clothes - a couple of jumpers, a jacket, a waterproof and my cosy hat with the ear flaps - big mistake! Jeez did I sweat. On my way down the cliff it was OK but when I came back up I felt like a 'boil in the bag' meal. Anyway, that's an aside, what about the fishing?

I was on the shore before 4am and there was just a bit of a ripple. Unlike the previous trip it was possible for me to stand right at the water's edge without even getting my feet wet - perfect. I began to cast and retrieve the Maria and although the tide was only half way in I never contacted any weed, rocks or other snags, it was really easy fishing. On about the tenth cast there was a tug and I found myself into a fish. It zipped about and really wriggled on the line so I began to think 'mackerel' but as I slid it ashore I could see that it was a schoolie. Good start!

 

For another hour-and-a-half or so I flogged away, working my way along the rocks for perhaps half a mile. Nothing! When it got light I expected the terns to arrive and start fishing but no, they never came. The seal that we'd seen on our previous trip did not turn up either. Obviously the sandeels (and presumably the bass) were elsewhere that morning. Just my luck. Anyway, at least I'd found myself a bass, albeit a small one. Next time perhaps I'll get everything right.

 

 

26^th May

It was coming up to the top of the spring tides. After the last lot of springs the heavy seas had covered most of the beaches feet thick in weed. This usually means maggots and maggots means fish. Nigel and I opted for an evening session to test our theory. It was hot and calm and sunny as we walked along the beach. Sure enough the sea was already lapping the seaweed middens and the water was thickly laced with maggots. Perfect!

We tramped along for a mile or so but saw nothing. By now the sweat was running down our faces so we stopped to take off a layer of clothing. We had a few casts to see if there were any bass about but Nigel's plug and my giant popper (I'm ever optimistic) were ignored. We were joined by another pal Rupert who was also hoping to fly fish. I left the other two fishing and began to walk back looking for fish activity near the maggoty weed piles. I'd barely gone a hundred metres when I saw a couple of shoals of big thicklips feeding at the surface so I shouted and waved to call my pals along.

 

All three of us fly fished but to be honest the fish were just a tad too far out to sea and in the bright sunlight they were incredibly wary. If the flyline wafted overhead there would be multiple great boils in the water as they dispersed in haste. We flogged away for perhaps half-an-hour. I had a brief contact but failed to hook it properly then I saw that Nigel was into a decent fish. I put down my rod and picked up the camera to take a few pictures. After a while it was clear that the fish was a bass and I snapped away until it was landed and unhooked. Shortly afterwards Rupert hooked up and played a second decent fish. This time it turned out to be a mullet at least as big as the bass - had it been a bit fatter I reckon that it would have weighed six pounds. I had a few more casts and then went home, leaving the others to it.

 

The following morning I was up at quarter-past-three and down at the coast by ten-to-four. I perched on a ledge and flicked my plug out to sea. As I began to wind there was a yank on the line and I found myself playing a bass. Good start! Over the next half-hour this was repeated ten times and between landing the fish I missed a few other pulls - excellent stuff. None of the bass were large (one-and-a-half to three pounds) but they all put up spirited resistance. As it got light the fish stopped biting. I shifted my stance to a different spot but it was a mistake, after a couple of chucks the lure snagged firmly well beyond wading range. I applied steady pressure with the braid and eventually I was rewarded as the lure came free. Hooks on both trebles were partly straightened - a very good reason for sticking to 30lb braid. I decided that the snagged lure was a sign - I got the message, packed in fishing and went home.

 

30^th May

After catching ten bass in half-an-hour the other morning I had to go again. I was up early and down at the coast just after half past three but there were already a couple of cars in the car park when I arrived. Bugger! Anyway, I put the bag on my back, picked up the spinning rod and set off for the beach. Sure enough, when I got to my intended place there were two figures, in the gloom, waving rods about just where I would have fished. Now there was plenty of room for another one but I don't like muscling in on other peoples' spots so I walked on past and trudged a further half-mile before beginning to fish. Nothing doing! I moved on to the next likely spot and tried again - nothing! My third stopping place looked very good so I gave it a good half-hour's flog - still nothing.

By now I was wondering whether the writing was on the wall for that morning so I was just about to wander back and see whether the other blokes had done any good when I saw another angler approaching. It turned out to be Rob - someone who had contacted me by email, a week or two before, with a few bass fishing questions. I'd answered as best I could and Rob had given it a go but, not surprisingly, for his first trip or two had blanked. The gist of Rob's latest email was as follows -

 

“Hi Mike”

 

“Was wondering if you can help me with a couple more queries.”

 

“I went for an evening session on Saturday. As I worked my way round the shore there were hundreds of gulls sitting on the water in the bay. On approach I could see thousands of hoppers scrambling up the beach! I could also see fish feeding (I think it was anyway, as I don't have a lot of experience) I started to fly fish but they seemed just out of my limited casting range. I was using a maggot baited fly but no joy.”

 

“What I'd like to know is "Are there any tips on keeping the hook weed-free before the cast? I really struggled to get any line out without the hook brushing the beach and picking up weed. Also do you use a line tray as I found the line was getting covered in weed at my feet!”

 

“One other question. When plugging, am I best to pick a spot and stay with it or should I move along the shore having a couple of chucks as I go?”

 

“Sorry for the bombardment I've been on 5 fruitless trips since I last emailed you. I'm only going dusk or dawn and I'm trying to tie it in with periods around H/W or L/W rather than in the slacks desperate to get my first fish on the plug and fly!”

 

“Any Help much appreciated.”

 

“Thanks”

 

“Rob J”

 

Again I answered to the best of my abilities. Not long afterwards Rob contacted me again as follows -

 

“Hi Mike”

 

“After your advice a few weeks ago I wasn't able to take full advantage of the evening tides at the end of last week. I managed an evening session from a local ledge on the bank holiday Monday, two of the friends I went with were fishing small worm baits and caught a few small wrasse. I stuck to plugging (determined to get that first fish) but no joy!”

 

“I next had an early morning session but again no joy, I saw some fish really close in over some very thick weed they didn't look like they were surface feeding but I could see plenty of tails and fins (were they grubbing around for Idotea??). I tried with a streamer fly but couldn't tempt one!! I finally managed an evening session on monday. High water was a bit late but I thought it was worth a crack. It was lovely when I got down there but as I went round to the east the wind was really blowing I fished as best I could until the line started to blowing back over my head on the cast so decided to wander back to shelter still no joy.”

 

“Yesterday I finished work and headed down to the ledge again. I had a few chucks with the J11 on the east side then waded over to the rocks to fish a little rocky bay (this had been where I was fishing on my previous session down there). I cast and retrieved against the flow of tide and also let the lure swing round on a slow retrieve but nothing! I wasn't snagging much despite being able to see the weed, I had a bit of a knock just before low water but failed to hook it. I then saw a few splashes further out, I changed to an Angel Kiss to get the extra distance (dropping the J11 in the water as I did so. It proceeded to float away out of reach I then spent the next 5 - 10 mins trying to catch my lure - I managed it though!!!). I seemed to get into the weed nearly every cast with the Kiss so I switched to a Skitterpop to fish at distance but over the weed, it was flat calm and I always have problems when using poppers so it was at least a bit of practice. Still no joy!”

 

“I changed back to the J11 for a couple of chucks before I had to wade back off the rocks. I cast back into the rocky bay a few times then I cast towards the end of the opposite rock outcrop I got a knock and at first I thought it was weed (I'd been hitting the weed quite a bit and knew there was a patch right where my lure was), but the 'weed' pulled back. I gave a strike to make sure the hooks were set and the fish took line wow! It roared off, my clutch was set a little light (I'd had to switch rods at the last minute as mine had a damaged guide, luckily I noticed before I got in the car) so once I had adjusted it I managed to get control and gain some line. The fish had another couple of runs but I managed to keep contact and get it onto the rocks. I took a couple of pics (attached - they're with my phone so not the best) and released the fish to fight another day. I was like Robson Green, hopping around on that rock (without the Geordie accent). What a fish!! I've caught schoolies on bait and on feathers before but nothing like that, easily my best fish and my first on a plug (one that I'd almost lost earlier).”

 

“Sorry for the Essay I'm still buzzing now!! I was hoping to go down again tonight and see if the later tide and change in wind affects the fishing but I've got a meeting six so I doubt I'll have time.

 

“Thanks for your tips and info, its really helped keep me positive in the hunt for my first. It was totally worth the wait!”

 

“Rob J”

 

“Notice that Rob wasn't deterred by failing a few times and his determination to succeed showed exactly the right attitude. Anyway, to return to our chance meeting on the shore, we had a bit of a chat and I suggested that we might walk on a further half-mile and try a beach of mixed rock and gritty sand which sometimes produces a fish or two. Clearly Rob was happy to do so.

 

Needless to say the fishing was not hectic. The tide was coming in and it was full daylight but the water was a bit coloured by an onshore breeze so I was still hopeful. We chose a reasonably weed-free stretch and plugged away for twenty minutes or so. Suddenly I heard Rob call out and looked up to see his rod well bent. I jumped off my rocky perch and hurried to get the camera out of the bag. By the time I turned back to the sea it was clear that the fish (a decent one to judge from the swirls in the water) had made good its escape - what a downer!

 

We continued to fish and after five or ten minutes I had a good take and landed a reasonable bass. It was time for me to go home so I put the fish back and left Rob - still plugging away - with a suggestion that we do it again some time. The following day he sent me another email -

 

“Hi Mike”

 

“It was good to meet you yesterday. Thank you for taking the time to walk round the bay with me it was very much appreciated. Thinking about it afterwards I guess the fish must have hung me on a rock as it made a couple of runs but there was a bit of a ledge in front of me and that's where I lost it, I think in my excitement I didn't realise what was happening! I stayed on for a bit then tried a few more spots on my walk back but no joy, there were a lot of maggots in the water and lots of birds feeding at the edge. I sat and watched for about 15 mins but no signs of fish (then it started to rain so I buggered off).”

 

“Thanks”

 

“Rob J.”

 

The first fish is always the hardest so I've no doubt that Rob will catch plenty more bass this year and I hope I shall be there to see a few of them.