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I haven't got out much recently. This crazy work thing gets in the way. However, with the forecast predicting valhalla-max over the next few days it was now or never on Wednesday. I nipped out after work for a short session down at Cogden. Actually, I was going to go to Bexy and stuff the walk, but I wasn't concentrating when I went past the turning at Swyre, so pushed on west.
It looked a bit meh; a swirling warm wind that was a bit more southerly than I'd have liked, meaning it kept gusting sideways along the beach rather than helping you whang a lead halfway to France. The surf didn't look rough enough for cod, didn't look calm enough for plaice, looked maybe just a bit too coloured for macky to be inshore. Oh well ...
First rod in at 5pm. That bloody wind. The rods kept bouncing around on the tripod, making bite detection a theoretical exercise. Nothing happened as the sun went down - very prettily too - confirming my fears about the plaice; but after dark I broke out the big guns and changed one rod to a 5/0 clipped-down loaded with blacks and blow.
That really switched the dogs on ... half-bites and pull-downs resulted in a string of the horrors. One even managed to foul-hook itself near the vent (given how tough doggy hide is, that takes some doing).
Finally, just when I was thinking about packing up, a bite. Not really a bite, more a change of direction, with the line heading uptide. Ay-up, that's not a woof ... it's banging around a bit too much. A few minutes of careful attention, some judicious use of the surf, and a beautiful fat cod slipped up the beach.
Yup ... cod, not codling ... just. 6lb 2oz. Not on a par with the monsters coming out of Chesil recently, but a handsome enough fish - I'll take it! It managed to bully its way past the hordes of dogs to chomp on a three blow, two black string on the 5/0. Right when you'd expect it too, at high water, after dark, on tides just coming off springs.
Nothing more afterwards but one big ole doggie, which told me it was time to go home. As a bonus, I timed it just right getting back to the car park; it was spitting with rain by the time I reached the gate, and considerably more than spitting by the time I'd got to the car. Job done ... happy as Larry.
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It looked a bit meh; a swirling warm wind that was a bit more southerly than I'd have liked, meaning it kept gusting sideways along the beach rather than helping you whang a lead halfway to France. The surf didn't look rough enough for cod, didn't look calm enough for plaice, looked maybe just a bit too coloured for macky to be inshore. Oh well ...
First rod in at 5pm. That bloody wind. The rods kept bouncing around on the tripod, making bite detection a theoretical exercise. Nothing happened as the sun went down - very prettily too - confirming my fears about the plaice; but after dark I broke out the big guns and changed one rod to a 5/0 clipped-down loaded with blacks and blow.
That really switched the dogs on ... half-bites and pull-downs resulted in a string of the horrors. One even managed to foul-hook itself near the vent (given how tough doggy hide is, that takes some doing).
Finally, just when I was thinking about packing up, a bite. Not really a bite, more a change of direction, with the line heading uptide. Ay-up, that's not a woof ... it's banging around a bit too much. A few minutes of careful attention, some judicious use of the surf, and a beautiful fat cod slipped up the beach.
Yup ... cod, not codling ... just. 6lb 2oz. Not on a par with the monsters coming out of Chesil recently, but a handsome enough fish - I'll take it! It managed to bully its way past the hordes of dogs to chomp on a three blow, two black string on the 5/0. Right when you'd expect it too, at high water, after dark, on tides just coming off springs.
Nothing more afterwards but one big ole doggie, which told me it was time to go home. As a bonus, I timed it just right getting back to the car park; it was spitting with rain by the time I reached the gate, and considerably more than spitting by the time I'd got to the car. Job done ... happy as Larry.
