On Wednesday, I wanted to get out for an evening/night session, so loaded up the car and headed for my usual spot at Seaford beach, getting there at about 7pm. High tide was at about 8pm and the plan was to fish over high and then fish the ebb down to the 2.30am low water and an hour or so back up.
What little wind there was, came from the back of the beach which made the sea a little flat, although there were some small waves which gave a bit of movement. I was going to stick to the big bait principle in an ‘all or nothing’ approach to bagging a decent bass but thought I might stick a scratching rig out in the hope of maybe getting a sole after dark.
Bass rod was set up with a long link running ledger, 6/0-4/0 pennel, loaded with whole squid and cast out. The scratcher was rigged with a size 4, two hook flapper baited with lugworm.
Soon after I got there, a mate, Phil turned up and set up to the east of me. First off, he had a shot with some feathers in an attempt to bag some mackerel for bait but after half an hour of thrashing around, he gave up and began to set up his serious fishing outfit.
Darkness fell and bites started almost immediately, unfortunately, there was nothing decent on the end of the line and the long procession of whiting started. It mattered not a jot where the bait was put, as soon as it was settled, the bait was pounced on by these greedy, toothy little critters. Even the close in, squid bait wasn’t safe! To most small fish, a bait of this size would be a daunting task but not for the whiting, which unable to swallow a bait of this size, tore it to shreds more efficiently than a chain saw.
We were soon joined by Arkam, a guy who came down from London to fish with us after reading on Facebook about recent exploits at Seaford. He set up to the West of me and soon had his baits in the water, before coming over for a chat. He told me that he usually fishes at Dungeness but had wanted to try somewhere different to get away from the whiting – bad move my friend, bad move.
All three of us were catching at all ranges but it was just whiting, with nothing else getting a look in. Phil called it a night not long after midnight, while Arkam and I stayed on for a while longer but by about 3am, I’d had enough of the bloody whiting and decided on home time as well.