After yesterday afternoons dismal failure at trying to get some fresh mackerel at Seaford beach, I decided to return during the evening and have a go at trying to get something for the table. Only trouble was, the forecast gave Force 4 gusting Easterly winds and low water was at 10pm which would mean fishing into the early hours to make high water . Not ideal conditions but I did have some peeler crab that needed using up along with some lugworm that was getting a bit high. I had toyed with the idea of maybe going somewhere different but in the end, convenience won, which means my heart wasn’t really in it. Sometimes I’m so eager to get out and get stuck in, sometimes I’m a bit indifferent – last night was the latter.

8pm saw me set up on the beach near the Beachcomber pub in not too unpleasant conditions, with just a slight breeze and not the predicted F4. Usual tactics – one rod with two a hook flapper and baited with the fragrant lugworm. The other rod had a running ledger ending in a 3/0 baited with the peeler crab. Once both rods were out, I sat and had a coffee and watched as the sun began to set. Considering the weather, there wasn’t that many people on the beach, although there was obviously some sort of ‘bash’ going on up near the Martello as the thudding music drifted down towards me.

It wasn’t long before the flapper was doing it’s business and the rod tip was rattling to the in the familiar bite of the often too numerous Pout. Soon, the routine became cast, rattle, retrieve, unhook Pout, re-cast, rattle and so on; the only break in the procession being the retrieval of one small dab. At least it was something to do. Then the other rod joined in, only this time with a small knock which resulted in a palm sized thornback ray. It wasn’t long though, before the crab succumbed to the Pout as well.

As darkness fell, the bites increased, the crab ran out and I started using whole small squid on a 4/0 pennel rig cast out only a short distance. I hoped that this would entice any bass that may be lurking just off the beach scooping up prey as the tide rose. Alas, it appeared that nobody had told the spikey one that there was free food on offer and the only action on that rod for the rest of night was the rattling as tiny Pout mouths did their best to scoff the offering.

By 4am, I’d had enough, my back was screaming, the fish weren’t feeding, my coffee had gone, the sun was coming up and bed beckoned.