Tow-rag
Well-known member
- Joined
- Oct 30, 2020
- Messages
- 252
- Reaction score
- 1,273
- Points
- 95
- Location
- Cornwall
- Favourite Fishing
- Lure
Hi folks,
It has been a while hasn't it?
I hadn't had any sneaky sessions under Bodmin police radar during lockdown because if I was busted a 2nd time the cops would throw the book at me. However... You can't keep a bad man down... but to be honest, I waited until the Covid restrictions eased. (do you believe that? of course you don't). Unfortunately, I had nothing of much merit to write about on those few occasions behind enemy lines.
Cut to the chase...three weeks ago, my mate Baz rang me.
"Col...there's a monster tide this afternoon, it'll be fairly choppy...but wotcha reckon?"
I also had itchy fingers and considered a bash that afternoon, and despite my arm throbbing from my 2nd Pfizer's jab, I was up for it.
I said "you do realise there's a NE blowing at 20 kts? it'll be well cold".
"So wrap up warm...you pussy".
A plan was forming, we would have to go over the top at Gorran to afford some shelter from the NE, and although it's rough tough kelpy ground, the extra tide height would assure minimal lure loss. Still need to battle the wind, so en route to Baz in St.Awful, I stopped at Jim's and bought a couple of 42g Dexters, plus a few for Baz should he get bored watching his float, or if on form...lose it.
Parked up at Baz's and transferred my gear into his car, sun was shining and spirits were high.
"So Col, what's happening with your band?".
" Got a gig at the end of May, some Toff's big birthday bash."
"Restrictions will be relaxed by then".
"Yeah, I've bought a new guitar, in fact several".
"Aw come on...how many have you got now?"
"Twenty six"
"Jeez mate, you can only play one at a time."
"Actually no... you can, if you get a twin neck like Jimmy Page, thanks Baz, that one is now on my radar"
"I give up mate...still, at least you play them all, by the way, you still quit smoking?"
"Yup, four years now, that's how I afforded the guitars...no brainer".
We pull up at the car park and start the trudge along to the the steep climb down to our mark, Jeez, it's cold in this wind, but the heavy Dexters are whacking out at good distance without cracking off on my 15 lb line. Two hours in, and were both blanking. Baz changes from lure to float. I consider doing the same, I'm getting peckish, so time to watch a bobbing float while enjoying a coffee and sandwich.
"Baz, what depth is your bait?"
"18 ft"
Crikey, considering he's only twelve feet out from the rocks, we are in proper deep water.
I break out my eleven foot float rod with Sandeel bait, plop out and enjoy a snack, unfortunately the fish aren't fancying one, so after a while I leave it in the rod rest trotting, and take up my lure rod again now we are on high tide, but boy, is it getting choppy, any bass out there? I decide to try my fail-safe Pollack lure...old yeller. I'm sure I've told you about him before, bright yellow and orange and resembles no fish on earth, except in an aquarium, and he didn't disappoint... Three good size Pollack in as many minutes, all returned as I've a fair few in the freezer already thanks to odd Covid undercover excursions... shhhhh!
Baz not to be outdone bags a meaty dogfish, must be a three pounder, so he's happy to save the blank.
By now we are absolutely freezing, so decided to pack up. Tide is pulling out, and bites have well and truly dried up, so we pack up. As I clamber down to retrieve my rod rest my knee pops and I lose my balance and fall off the ledge and end up in eight metres of sea on my back with a loud splash, and pulling away rapidly from the safety of the rocks with the receding tide. Baz meanwhile has gone off somewhere for a pi$$, so no help there. I swivel over to my front in order to swim back, and that's when the cold hits me. The cold shock makes it almost impossible to breath, so I trod water for a minute or two to take stock and try to get my breath back, while being sucked further from safety by the undertow. I still have my bottom section of rod and reel in my hand but refuse to let go, and front crawl to the rocks. I make it there okay, but the weight of my sea sodden clothes make me too heavy to climb up. Then Baz is there, I stretch out my rod towards him for a lifeline and he shouts "sod your rod you numpty, give me your hand'.
Honestly, you couldn't write it...only I am. He thinks that I am saving my rod instead of offering my lifeline...all of a sudden I could not help myself...Baz is an effing legend! and I was engulfed in laughter, despite swallowing copious amounts of fetid seawater, which mercifully brought me my senses, I kick out for land again. Baz helps me up and out, and I waste no time stripping off in the freezing wind and rain and I wring out my clothes best I can in this freezing wind, and then replace them. Did I mention that it was freezing? I sploshed painfully along the 20 minute walk to Baz's car where I stripped off again Which seemed to take ages as I could no longer feel my fingers. " Stick this around you mate". wrapped myself in his dog's blanket. I wasn't complaining one bit.
Back at Baz's gaff, he lent me a dry set of clothes, at least now i didn't smell so much of old dog. Soon I was on my way home to a nice hot shower, a huge brandy, and a wonderful warm bed. Woof woof...
Cheers,
TR.
It has been a while hasn't it?
I hadn't had any sneaky sessions under Bodmin police radar during lockdown because if I was busted a 2nd time the cops would throw the book at me. However... You can't keep a bad man down... but to be honest, I waited until the Covid restrictions eased. (do you believe that? of course you don't). Unfortunately, I had nothing of much merit to write about on those few occasions behind enemy lines.
Cut to the chase...three weeks ago, my mate Baz rang me.
"Col...there's a monster tide this afternoon, it'll be fairly choppy...but wotcha reckon?"
I also had itchy fingers and considered a bash that afternoon, and despite my arm throbbing from my 2nd Pfizer's jab, I was up for it.
I said "you do realise there's a NE blowing at 20 kts? it'll be well cold".
"So wrap up warm...you pussy".
A plan was forming, we would have to go over the top at Gorran to afford some shelter from the NE, and although it's rough tough kelpy ground, the extra tide height would assure minimal lure loss. Still need to battle the wind, so en route to Baz in St.Awful, I stopped at Jim's and bought a couple of 42g Dexters, plus a few for Baz should he get bored watching his float, or if on form...lose it.
Parked up at Baz's and transferred my gear into his car, sun was shining and spirits were high.
"So Col, what's happening with your band?".
" Got a gig at the end of May, some Toff's big birthday bash."
"Restrictions will be relaxed by then".
"Yeah, I've bought a new guitar, in fact several".
"Aw come on...how many have you got now?"
"Twenty six"
"Jeez mate, you can only play one at a time."
"Actually no... you can, if you get a twin neck like Jimmy Page, thanks Baz, that one is now on my radar"
"I give up mate...still, at least you play them all, by the way, you still quit smoking?"
"Yup, four years now, that's how I afforded the guitars...no brainer".
We pull up at the car park and start the trudge along to the the steep climb down to our mark, Jeez, it's cold in this wind, but the heavy Dexters are whacking out at good distance without cracking off on my 15 lb line. Two hours in, and were both blanking. Baz changes from lure to float. I consider doing the same, I'm getting peckish, so time to watch a bobbing float while enjoying a coffee and sandwich.
"Baz, what depth is your bait?"
"18 ft"
Crikey, considering he's only twelve feet out from the rocks, we are in proper deep water.
I break out my eleven foot float rod with Sandeel bait, plop out and enjoy a snack, unfortunately the fish aren't fancying one, so after a while I leave it in the rod rest trotting, and take up my lure rod again now we are on high tide, but boy, is it getting choppy, any bass out there? I decide to try my fail-safe Pollack lure...old yeller. I'm sure I've told you about him before, bright yellow and orange and resembles no fish on earth, except in an aquarium, and he didn't disappoint... Three good size Pollack in as many minutes, all returned as I've a fair few in the freezer already thanks to odd Covid undercover excursions... shhhhh!
Baz not to be outdone bags a meaty dogfish, must be a three pounder, so he's happy to save the blank.
By now we are absolutely freezing, so decided to pack up. Tide is pulling out, and bites have well and truly dried up, so we pack up. As I clamber down to retrieve my rod rest my knee pops and I lose my balance and fall off the ledge and end up in eight metres of sea on my back with a loud splash, and pulling away rapidly from the safety of the rocks with the receding tide. Baz meanwhile has gone off somewhere for a pi$$, so no help there. I swivel over to my front in order to swim back, and that's when the cold hits me. The cold shock makes it almost impossible to breath, so I trod water for a minute or two to take stock and try to get my breath back, while being sucked further from safety by the undertow. I still have my bottom section of rod and reel in my hand but refuse to let go, and front crawl to the rocks. I make it there okay, but the weight of my sea sodden clothes make me too heavy to climb up. Then Baz is there, I stretch out my rod towards him for a lifeline and he shouts "sod your rod you numpty, give me your hand'.
Honestly, you couldn't write it...only I am. He thinks that I am saving my rod instead of offering my lifeline...all of a sudden I could not help myself...Baz is an effing legend! and I was engulfed in laughter, despite swallowing copious amounts of fetid seawater, which mercifully brought me my senses, I kick out for land again. Baz helps me up and out, and I waste no time stripping off in the freezing wind and rain and I wring out my clothes best I can in this freezing wind, and then replace them. Did I mention that it was freezing? I sploshed painfully along the 20 minute walk to Baz's car where I stripped off again Which seemed to take ages as I could no longer feel my fingers. " Stick this around you mate". wrapped myself in his dog's blanket. I wasn't complaining one bit.
Back at Baz's gaff, he lent me a dry set of clothes, at least now i didn't smell so much of old dog. Soon I was on my way home to a nice hot shower, a huge brandy, and a wonderful warm bed. Woof woof...
Cheers,
TR.
