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By Vic, 13 September, 2006 12:37

Recent trips have been, how can I say, unproductive as far as bringing home “summat for tea”. As nice as it is, being in tranquil surroundings, observing nature and just being out in the fresh air, it would be a treat to take something home for the table.

In an effort to prove to my wife that I am indeed possessed with the “Hunter gatherer” instinct, I set off on Monday night armed with bait I had left over from the previous outing to Seaford. My chosen venue for this was Brighton marina, the East arm. The target was the delicious sole.

I wandered out as far as I could to the favoured ’50’s’ bays to get a decent spot. My normal favourites are around the high ’50’s’. However as these were occupied by a large group of people who were obviously camping there, I set up at bay 56.

One set was baited with lugworm and cast out about 20 yards or so. The other rod was set baited with squid and gently lobbed out a few yards out from the base of the caissons.

The weather night was still with not a breath of wind, warm and humid. The sea was flat calm with no wave movement. A distant thunder storm provided a fantastic light show with lightning bolts striking the sea. In fact as it got closer, I did consider leaving as I didn’t fancy waving thirteen foot carbon fishing rods around and acting as lightning conductors.

The baits were continually bombarded with bites from Pout which were savaging the squid and worm to pieces.

The next bite I saw was different, not the ‘rattling’ sort you get from a Pout. I left it a few seconds before the rod tip dipped right down and stayed there. I lifted into what felt a reasonable fish. Got it to the drop net and brought up a nice sole (along with some weed).

Then the inevitable happened. I had just lobbed a new fresh calamari and was busy sorting some bits and pieces when the ratchet screamed and I turned in time to see the rod arch over and then bounce back. I left it there for a while longer but there was no more action on it. Yet another example of “Sod’s law”.

By about 3am, I was just about ready to go home to a nice comfy bed. I began to retrieve the set baited with a whole squid and thought it felt unusually heavy. It was bound to be another clump of weed entwined in my line. As I dragged the weight up the side of the caisson, I felt a vague ‘flapping’ sensation from something on the end. Once the lot reached the top, I was pleasantly surprised to see a lobster firmly gripping onto what was left of the bait. An absolute bonus to end a pleasant evenings fishing and something to earn some brownie points with my wife.

Tuesday’s lunch was a real treat. The sole was simply grilled with butter, salt and pepper. The lobster was steamed and served with Mayonaisse dip.

I have now been ordered to make a return trip and do the same again.

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By Vic, 12 September, 2006 10:36

…is that when you least expect it, something dramatic happens?

I returned to Seaford Beach on Sunday night for a late session, hoping for a decent bass. Fished the tide up from 8.30pm opposite West View using lugworm and squid strips.

Small bream were in abundance and started to becoming annoying, rattling away at the baits as soon as they hit the water, leaving little chance for Billy bass to have his fill.

Anyway, onto the reason for the title. Over the years that I’ve been fishing, I’ve pondered on a phenomenon that has me puzzled. Why is that you can spend many seconds, minutes or even hours watching the rod tip for that sign that something is going to take the bait and nothing happens but as soon as you turn your back or are distracted in some way – Bang! You get a huge take, but you’ve missed it just because you had the sheer gall to have pour a coffee, have a pee, have a ciggy or perform some other badly needed function.

I have come to the conclusion that it’s probably nothing more than “Sod’s law” . Of course, the other theory is that fish have an acute sense of humour and like nothing more than taking the piss out of the humble angler.

Ah well – C’est la vie!

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By Vic, 11 September, 2006 12:13

Friday was going to be another foray to Seaford beach for an evening session at bass. For some reason I changed my mind and instead decided to head for Brighton Marina.

I went out on to the East arm and set up at bay 38. Two rods – one fished just down the side with small whole calamari or side of one large for lurking bass. The other rod fished with either King Rag or black lug.

It was expected to be one of the highest tides of the year at over 6 meters and they weren’t wrong. There was a strong current, which together with the huge amount of weed in the water, made it difficult to fish. Every few seconds saw the rods arching over under the strain of the weed collecting on the line.

Only catch of the night fish wise, was the smallest Pout I’ve ever seen. How it managed to get on the hook I’ll never know.

I tried all sorts to try and avoid the weed but to no avail. In the end, I just called it a night and packed away.

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By Vic, 5 September, 2006 23:32

I decided to fish at Seaford beach last night as the weather looked promising, I had a fridge full of bait and I could get there about an hour or so before high water.

I set up at around 8pm about 200yds East of the ‘The Beachcomber’ pub. There was a decent South West wind blowing and there was a good surf. Both rods were baited with King ragworm and black lug. I cast out both rods and sat, coffee in hand, quietly optimistic. A few bait changes, another coffee, more cigarettes. Was this going to be a blank night?

High water came and went with a few missed bites but nothing in the bag. Apart from the wind, it was reasonably comfortable, although I did wish I had wipers on my glasses as the bloody spray from the surf was fogging them up so much it was like trying to look through a carrier bag.

At about 11.30, I was about to start packing up when one of the rods bent over so hard it was almost pulled from the tripod. A short retrieve and a small bass was on the beach.

This happened on the next three consecutive casts and another three bass were added to the tally. All were about a pound and were returned to the sea alive an kicking. After this, all went quiet so it was off home for me.

I’m gonna have another go there on Wednesday night to see if I can haul something a bit bigger.

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By Vic, 26 August, 2006 11:48

..or more to the point their owners. For a while now, I’ve been going to a mark nearby to my home, sussing it out and ‘groundbaiting’ ready for a session at the Thick Lipped Mullet I know are there.

The spot really is a beautiful one considering where it is, but is spoiled by the huge amount of dog mess that litters the place. I know it’s a popular place for dog walkers but why the hell can’t they clear up after their pets. The local council have even provided bins for the offending substance to be put in.

Many people complain about anglers causing a mess (and I agree that a thoughtless minority do) but this sheer laziness and lack of regard for other people really gets my back up. Is it really too much to take a bag and pick this stuff up and place it in a bin?

With luck I can find a place to sit this afternoon and enjoy a bit of fishing without having to worry about descending onto a hidden pile in the long grass.

Hopefully, I’ll update here later with a catch report and maybe some pictures.