For the latest instalment of my not so successful hunt for Congerzilla, I decided to try another new mark, this time recommended by Tony aka Smalltown boy. I had 2 options to choose from, 1 easy to get to and the other requiring a little more effort, and reasoning that a more remote mark might hold a better head of decent conger, I chose the latter. With a longer and unfamiliar walk than usual in store I managed to get away by 6:15 and by 7:00 I was suited and booted, and heading off along the coast.
To begin with the walk took in some familiar landmarks, as I passed several spots I’ve fished before but after 15 minutes or so I was into unknown territory. Now In readiness for my outing I had studied Tony’s map carefully, and not only had I had placed a pin at the exact location on Google Maps, to help me find the spot, but as a backup I also had a printout of Tonys directions in my pocket, having read them so many times though I knew them off by heart so I relied mainly on a quick check of Google every few hundred meters. May main point of reference was to be the “stone in the middle of the path on its edge with 2 stones holding it up either side”, but knowing what to look out for and finding it in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night by headlamp alone was another matter :veryconfused:. After 20 minutes or so I knew I was in the right area but thinking it might be a bit further yet, I carried on until I came to a set of steep steps. As I struggled to climb them laden with gear and my lungs fit to burst, I couldn’t help but think of Tony’s words “if you start climbing up the path and come to a massive drop off then you've gone too far”. Eventually I reached the top and as I tried to catch my breath I had another look at the map, bloody typical I thought, I had only gone too far!
After a couple of minutes rest I began to retrace my steps, while keeping a close eye on Google, until I reached a point on the path adjacent to the pin, once there I looked towards the sea down a steep slope covered by a large expanse of dead bracken. Again, I remembered Tony’s wise words but the phrase “not much climbing either” didn’t seem quite right :Oo:. Thinking that the terrain might get easier nearer the sea, I decided to have a look anyway and I set off carefully down the slope. With no sign of the undergrowth thinning out, I eventually reached the top of the rocks but instead of “quite a comfortable place to fish”, I was confronted by a ridiculously steep almost vertical drop of at least 50 meters if not more and ending in the sea! Thinking that Tony must have much bigger cojones than me, and with the words of another wise man ringing in my ears I thought to myself “s*d that for a game of soldiers” and I began the looong climb back up to the path.
If the hike up the steps had been hard work, the ascent back up through the bracken was like climbing Everest and when I eventually made it my legs were like jelly, my heart was pounding out of my chest and underneath my floatation suit I was sweating like a glass blowers a**e crack but at least I had survived :laugh:. With fishing time on the line it was too late to head for Tony’s other mark, so I decided to head back the way I came and to fish one of the other ledges I know of closer to the car.
At least the walk back was an easy one I thought and I was gradually recovering from my exertions, when after 100m or so I became aware that I was walking through grass which was completely waterlogged, it was then I had one of those eureka moments when some more of Tony’s words popped into my head, “Other side of that is a bit of a trickle of a stream running down off the fields and it crosses the path in front of you so follow that down”. I immediately looked towards the sea again and this time I could in fact see what looked like a fairly steep, but compared to the last one a relatively easy way to get down. Having completely got my breath back now, I couldn’t see the harm in at least having a look at what was down there, so I set off hoping that I was in the right place this time. As it happened I was and after a relatively easy scramble over some rocks I found myself on a “comfortable place to fish”, just as Tony said it was :BigGrin:. After that ordeal, the first thing I did was to take off my jacket and wooly hat to allow the air to circulate before I melted, and I then set about arranging my base camp for the evening and rigging up.
Now on every other conger hunt this year I have started off fishing a second rod, in an attempt to catch fresh bait, but on this occasion I had come prepared, thinking ahead I had kept the 2 pin whiting I caught in Sunday’s match, along with the small pouting kindly donated to me by Gwion and frozen them in readiness for a 2 rod assault on the conger from the start of the session. That was until Tony had mentioned catching a tadpole fish at this mark, so I didn’t see the harm in giving it an hour with smaller baits first :BigGrin:. With half an hour of the ebb still to go, I decided to save my secret weapons until later and I started off with a mackerel and squid cocktail on the conger rod, while the 2 hook flapper was baited with the usual lug and squid cocktail on the bottom hook and a sandeel on the top. As always when fishing a new mark I expected bites from the off but it looked like I was being over optimistic as usual and to begin with no bites were forthcoming, the night was young though and I felt sure that things would improve once the flood got underway.
After an hour with no action I decided it was time to up the stakes, so the first whiting was mounted on an 8/0 and consigned to the depths, I still wasn’t quite ready to give up on the tadpole fish yet either and so I decided to have a couple more casts before swapping over to a second conger bait. Ten minutes or so later, I was busy admiring the starlit sky when out of the corner of my eye I saw the tip of the conger rod nod sharply, this was followed by a few clicks of the drag as something picked up my bait. I immediately got to my feet in readiness, should the diner set off on a run, but as usual this was the kiss of death and the rod stopped moving immediately. It wasn’t all bad though as no sooner had the conger rod stopped moving, than the second rod also started nodding. Not wanting to tempt fate I left the rod in the tripod and just tightened up the line every time it dropped slack until I guessed the fish was on, I then struck to set the hook and thankfully there was some extra weight on the line. Reeling in was a routine job and the blank was duly beaten with the first dog of the night .
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Not quite ready to give up on the chance of something more interesting than a dog, I decided to give the small baits one more cast before concentrating completely on the eels, and once the rod was re-baited and cast out again, I turned my attention the other rod, which had stayed depressingly still since the earlier bite. As expected there was nothing on it but I was intrigued to find my whiting bitten clean in half, it looked like there might be some toothy critters out there after all :thumbsup:.
The second whiting was duly impaled and cast out, but I had barely put the rod in the tripod when the scratching rod was pulled hard over and a big bow of slack line dropped towards the water. I immediately picked the rod up and took up the slack, then at the next pull down I struck to set the hook. As I reeled in I clearly felt something trying to dive back to the safety of the sea bed, it didn’t feel particularly big but it was a nice change to feel something fighting back rather than come in as a dead weight. Realistically the result of the fight was never in doubt and after a minute or two my catch surfaced in front of me, a double header of dog number 2, and a very welcome surprise of a half decent codling :cool2:.
Unfortunately for me, the size of its body wasn’t quite as big as its head would suggest, but it was still a keeper and will be very tasty :wink:.
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Of course I couldn’t switch to 2 conger baits after that so both hooks on the flapper were baited with mackerel, the successful bait, and cast out once again in the hope of another cod. After a quiet first hour, things had certainly picked up now and I had high hopes for the rest of the session but sadly, it wasn’t to last. The second half of the session was pretty quiet, I did get a couple of decent bites on the small baits but they somehow managed to avoid the hooks, something which never ceases to amaze me as I only need to look at a hook for it to stick in me, yet fish can have a good old chew of my baits and then spit them out again without getting hooked :BigGrin:. As for the conger rod, apart from the rhythmical movement of the waves and the occasional quiver as assorted small stuff tore chunks off my bait, it stayed completely still and even my joker of a freshly frozen pouting failed to attract a snake :thumbsdown:. Eventually, with a steep climb ahead of me, followed by good long walk back to the car, I was forced to call it a night at midnight.
So it hadn’t been the most productive outing I’ve ever had in the area, but session unlucky number 13 of my conger hunt could have been an awful lot worse. It was also good to try a completely new mark, which I’ll certainly fish again, and despite another congerless evening the exercise certainly did me good :laugh:.
To begin with the walk took in some familiar landmarks, as I passed several spots I’ve fished before but after 15 minutes or so I was into unknown territory. Now In readiness for my outing I had studied Tony’s map carefully, and not only had I had placed a pin at the exact location on Google Maps, to help me find the spot, but as a backup I also had a printout of Tonys directions in my pocket, having read them so many times though I knew them off by heart so I relied mainly on a quick check of Google every few hundred meters. May main point of reference was to be the “stone in the middle of the path on its edge with 2 stones holding it up either side”, but knowing what to look out for and finding it in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night by headlamp alone was another matter :veryconfused:. After 20 minutes or so I knew I was in the right area but thinking it might be a bit further yet, I carried on until I came to a set of steep steps. As I struggled to climb them laden with gear and my lungs fit to burst, I couldn’t help but think of Tony’s words “if you start climbing up the path and come to a massive drop off then you've gone too far”. Eventually I reached the top and as I tried to catch my breath I had another look at the map, bloody typical I thought, I had only gone too far!
After a couple of minutes rest I began to retrace my steps, while keeping a close eye on Google, until I reached a point on the path adjacent to the pin, once there I looked towards the sea down a steep slope covered by a large expanse of dead bracken. Again, I remembered Tony’s wise words but the phrase “not much climbing either” didn’t seem quite right :Oo:. Thinking that the terrain might get easier nearer the sea, I decided to have a look anyway and I set off carefully down the slope. With no sign of the undergrowth thinning out, I eventually reached the top of the rocks but instead of “quite a comfortable place to fish”, I was confronted by a ridiculously steep almost vertical drop of at least 50 meters if not more and ending in the sea!
Thinking that Tony must have much bigger cojones than me, and with the words of another wise man ringing in my ears I thought to myself “s*d that for a game of soldiers” and I began the looong climb back up to the path.If the hike up the steps had been hard work, the ascent back up through the bracken was like climbing Everest and when I eventually made it my legs were like jelly, my heart was pounding out of my chest and underneath my floatation suit I was sweating like a glass blowers a**e crack but at least I had survived :laugh:. With fishing time on the line it was too late to head for Tony’s other mark, so I decided to head back the way I came and to fish one of the other ledges I know of closer to the car.
At least the walk back was an easy one I thought and I was gradually recovering from my exertions, when after 100m or so I became aware that I was walking through grass which was completely waterlogged, it was then I had one of those eureka moments when some more of Tony’s words popped into my head, “Other side of that is a bit of a trickle of a stream running down off the fields and it crosses the path in front of you so follow that down”. I immediately looked towards the sea again and this time I could in fact see what looked like a fairly steep, but compared to the last one a relatively easy way to get down. Having completely got my breath back now, I couldn’t see the harm in at least having a look at what was down there, so I set off hoping that I was in the right place this time. As it happened I was and after a relatively easy scramble over some rocks I found myself on a “comfortable place to fish”, just as Tony said it was :BigGrin:. After that ordeal, the first thing I did was to take off my jacket and wooly hat to allow the air to circulate before I melted, and I then set about arranging my base camp for the evening and rigging up.
Now on every other conger hunt this year I have started off fishing a second rod, in an attempt to catch fresh bait, but on this occasion I had come prepared, thinking ahead I had kept the 2 pin whiting I caught in Sunday’s match, along with the small pouting kindly donated to me by Gwion and frozen them in readiness for a 2 rod assault on the conger from the start of the session
. That was until Tony had mentioned catching a tadpole fish at this mark, so I didn’t see the harm in giving it an hour with smaller baits first :BigGrin:. With half an hour of the ebb still to go, I decided to save my secret weapons until later and I started off with a mackerel and squid cocktail on the conger rod, while the 2 hook flapper was baited with the usual lug and squid cocktail on the bottom hook and a sandeel on the top. As always when fishing a new mark I expected bites from the off but it looked like I was being over optimistic as usual and to begin with no bites were forthcoming, the night was young though and I felt sure that things would improve once the flood got underway.After an hour with no action I decided it was time to up the stakes, so the first whiting was mounted on an 8/0 and consigned to the depths, I still wasn’t quite ready to give up on the tadpole fish yet either and so I decided to have a couple more casts before swapping over to a second conger bait. Ten minutes or so later, I was busy admiring the starlit sky when out of the corner of my eye I saw the tip of the conger rod nod sharply, this was followed by a few clicks of the drag as something picked up my bait. I immediately got to my feet in readiness, should the diner set off on a run, but as usual this was the kiss of death and the rod stopped moving immediately
. It wasn’t all bad though as no sooner had the conger rod stopped moving, than the second rod also started nodding. Not wanting to tempt fate I left the rod in the tripod and just tightened up the line every time it dropped slack until I guessed the fish was on, I then struck to set the hook and thankfully there was some extra weight on the line. Reeling in was a routine job and the blank was duly beaten with the first dog of the night .Not quite ready to give up on the chance of something more interesting than a dog, I decided to give the small baits one more cast before concentrating completely on the eels, and once the rod was re-baited and cast out again, I turned my attention the other rod, which had stayed depressingly still since the earlier bite. As expected there was nothing on it but I was intrigued to find my whiting bitten clean in half, it looked like there might be some toothy critters out there after all :thumbsup:.
The second whiting was duly impaled and cast out, but I had barely put the rod in the tripod when the scratching rod was pulled hard over and a big bow of slack line dropped towards the water. I immediately picked the rod up and took up the slack, then at the next pull down I struck to set the hook. As I reeled in I clearly felt something trying to dive back to the safety of the sea bed, it didn’t feel particularly big but it was a nice change to feel something fighting back rather than come in as a dead weight. Realistically the result of the fight was never in doubt and after a minute or two my catch surfaced in front of me, a double header of dog number 2, and a very welcome surprise of a half decent codling :cool2:.
Unfortunately for me, the size of its body wasn’t quite as big as its head would suggest, but it was still a keeper and will be very tasty :wink:.
Of course I couldn’t switch to 2 conger baits after that so both hooks on the flapper were baited with mackerel, the successful bait, and cast out once again in the hope of another cod. After a quiet first hour, things had certainly picked up now and I had high hopes for the rest of the session but sadly, it wasn’t to last. The second half of the session was pretty quiet, I did get a couple of decent bites on the small baits but they somehow managed to avoid the hooks, something which never ceases to amaze me as I only need to look at a hook for it to stick in me, yet fish can have a good old chew of my baits and then spit them out again without getting hooked :BigGrin:. As for the conger rod, apart from the rhythmical movement of the waves and the occasional quiver as assorted small stuff tore chunks off my bait, it stayed completely still and even my joker of a freshly frozen pouting failed to attract a snake :thumbsdown:. Eventually, with a steep climb ahead of me, followed by good long walk back to the car, I was forced to call it a night at midnight.
So it hadn’t been the most productive outing I’ve ever had in the area, but session unlucky number 13 of my conger hunt could have been an awful lot worse. It was also good to try a completely new mark, which I’ll certainly fish again, and despite another congerless evening the exercise certainly did me good :laugh:.
