Plucking weed..

What a shame. What was left of a nice sea greeted me at Cart Gap, plan was to have a few hours before work kicks in again. It was the session I tried to talk the Stepford Husband into, he's glad he didn't come.

Basically I spent 3 hours plucking weed off my line, that loose red stuff, even stood at the waters edge holding the rod up above my head it was a pain. Smudge popped in after bagging on the river, in hindsight I should've gone down there for a few hours. A solitary pout saved a blank and just to rub salt into the wound the lug cost me £9 for 50 worms. Roll on November. Did I mention the worms cost me £9 for 50?

£9 for 50 lug, that's a facking liberty!

I should've said that high water was around 8pm and I fished from about 6:30 until 9:15. Unusual to get weed on the flood and the ebb, it usually clears on the ebb, I stuck it for as long as I could. Soon be winter.

Plans and schemes..

It's getting to me. No fishing since mackie bashing with Nobby and too much work and I'm starting to go cold turkey. I start thinking I might have a go Tuesday night, so with that in mind I ring Genocide to see if he's got any ideas...

Me "High water at 20:00, westerly wind after 2 days of north up to 17mph and the weathers set fair. I fancy a go at the gaps or Cart Gap next Tuesday".

Genocide "I can't mate, we have so much on at work and I can't go in to work after a late night fishing, I won't be able to concentrate properly".

Me "Have you gone mental?".

Genocide "I'm going in today for 5 or 6 hours just to get ahead of the game and I'll go in bank holiday monday too".

Me "Seriously mate, have you hidden some cameras somewhere, is it a you've been framed job? You're fecking scaring me now your like one of those stepford wives without the nice tits".

I daren't risk phoning any of the others until I've recovered some composure, two days later and I'm still shaking like a shitting dog. Imagine if Nobby told me he couldn't fish because he had a salsa lesson with Ursula it would just about finish me off. I'd be looking for the petrol can and a lighter..

PK had a good day down the river Friday with DD, he reckoned he had 50lb odd of skimmers. They make me laugh when they talk about skimmers round here, to me, a Lincolnshire lad brought up on the Trent and Witham, a skimmer is a bream up to say 1.5/2lb. If your from Norfolk its as black as your hat and weighs around 4 or 5lb, they're not proper ones until they're between 6 and 9. I'm going out Tuesday morning with a mate to get some coarse bits, I'm determined to have a go before the autumn sets in and I get focused on whiting and codling.

I'll also pick up some cartridges while I'm out Tuesday, I haven't been for a while. My best field has pigs on it now so I can't shoot, I'll have a word with Johnny and see what he's been up to. I did mention it to Nobby, his brother inlaw is a farmer and he was going to sort out a shoot on his land, sooner the better I say.

Mrs Aitch is applying for jobs, I told her there's something wrong with my eyes. She said why whats up with them, I said I can't see you going to work.

Speaking of the lovely Mrs Aitch, I bought her one of those mood rings. She thought it a nice present but with me there's usually a motive, its a fishing permission indicator. The idea being if it's that pretty pea green colour its safe to ask her if I can go fishing. If its not safe the ring leaves a deep red spot on my forehead. I got wrong the other day for sending her some texts, she said "you know I hate texting", I said "well shut up and listen for a change then". That went down well.

Right I'm off before I turn into a slim and attractive Bernard Manning, hopefully there'll be reports of a few fish this weekend, give us all a bit of inspiration, feck knows we need it.

"Eee my mother inlaw, fat as f*ck she is"

Roll on autumn..

I can't be the only one who's sick of it. Hardly had a proper summer, weather's done its best to scupper any decent fishing, round here at least. I took Aidan out for an ice cream at lunchtime, the sea looks more like January than August and I really wouldn't be surprised to see a few codling if anybody can be bothered to fish for them.

I'll probably have a go next week if I can rustle up any enthusiasm. PK did say, half in jest I reckon, that he might have a fling this Friday if the wind eased. I can't join him as I'm at work and busy over the weekend, if he goes don't be surprised if the old fox prises one or two out. Probably because I'm a sad, daft or a combination of both, I've reproduced below a joke I was emailed, as an engineer it tickled me:

An engineer dies and reports to the pearly gates. St. Peter checks his dossier and says, "Ah, you're an engineer -- you're in the wrong place." So the engineer reports to the gates of hell and is let in. Pretty soon, the engineer gets dissatisfied with the level of comfort in hell, and starts designing and building improvements. After a while, they've got air conditioning, flush toilets and escalators, and the engineer is a pretty popular guy.

One day God calls Satan up on the telephone and says with a sneer, "So, how's it going down there in hell?" Satan replies, "Hey, things are going great. We've got air conditioning and flush toilets and escalators, and there's no telling what this engineer is going to come up with next."

God replies, "What??? You've got an engineer? That's a mistake -- he should never have gotten down there; send him up here." Satan says, "No way. I like having an engineer on the staff, and I'm keeping him." God says, "Send him back up here or I'll sue." Satan laughs uproariously and answers, "Yeah right, like there are any Lawyers in heaven"

Right, I'm off to do some house bits before paid work takes over, will somebody go and catch a few fish please, I think we all need a pick me up.

A local rod fished Happisburgh way today and had a handful of bass and codling with a few flounders thrown in, cracking conditions at the minute and there'll be a few this weekend if the forecast is anything like right. Get some worms ordered and get out there! H.

Tinsel tossing..

I had hoped to go with Genocide, Nobby and Pete tomorrow, plugging and fluff chucking. I was on the phone today to Nobby making travel arrangements when Mrs Aitch turned round and said "You're not going fishing". She never says that, I'm a very lucky man she rarely if ever stops me fishing, "Its our 11th anniversary". Shit the bed, I'd forgotten. I've never forgotten before (which I swiftly reminded her) in fact the year before last she forgot, cost her a giant bar of galaxy that did. I can't believe I forgot, after all I am married to the most wonderful woman (outside of Uma Thurman) that ever walked this earth, feck I hope she reads this...

I picked Nobby up at 1800, high water would be around 2030 and I reckoned we'd fish until it got dark then nip for a swift one on the way home. We got to the car park at Weybourne and was pleasantly surprised to see hardly anybody fishing. It was raining, not hard but enough to give you a good wetting. Guess which doughnut forgot his smock as well as his anniversary. We nipped back into Sheringham and I managed to buy one of those poncho things you see yanks wearing, I looked a proper twot but at least I'd be dry.

I never look great at the best of times, now I looked like Mama Cass in her "green" phase. Autumn's coming, all the leaves will be brown and the skies grey..

We just walked straight over the ridge and straight down, I suppose we were somewhere near the start of the cliffs going back down towards Sheringham. I don't think it mattered too much to be honest. I started on these small opaque and green things more like a herring string than anything. Nobby started on good old fashioned silver strips, second put in and he's got a string of four.

I chopped and changed rigs, fished plugs for a bit to no avail, I reckon Nobby was on 7 before I managed my first 2. He gave me a proper towelling. I've never been any good at this kind of fishing whereas old Nobby has the knack. Anyhow we finished up with 24, the plan being that we'd keep some eaters and freeze the rest down for bait. Nobby took 5 and I had the rest and guess what, none are ending up as bait!!

Most were around 8/10oz but some went 12/14oz, good fun with light gear and a succesful 2 hour splodge. Time the Aitch's got an omega 3 overload!

I did enjoy tonight, just a light couple of hours. People know that the shingle isn't my favourite venue, but thinking on I've fished it twice this year and had 2 nice little sessions. I had the Salthouse smuts with Karl and Smudge and tonight with Nobby. I've had better sessions at other beaches this year but tonight did at least make sure I didn't have 2 blanks on the trot and it's put some top quality scran on the table. A course at Peterborough tomorrow followed by an anniversary supper. Then three night shifts will mean I won't get out until next week at the earliest, that and I'll be too busy making pate, roasting, grilling etc etc etc.

Madness..

I hadn't intended to have a go. I go back to work on the 11th after nearly a month off and I wasn't fussed about going. Karl had rung and mailed earlier in the week with a proposal to fish Southwold for a sole on Friday night. Trouble was high water wasn't until around 2130, add to that a 2 hour drive and the fact I have to be up at 6am on the Saturday I wasn't keen. There were northerlies forecast too, they wouldn't put too much on down there but they would have some effect on the fishing.

Another nice looking sea without a fish in it for miles!

High water locally was around 1800, pants really as it would mean the best part of the tide, the first couple of hours of ebb, would still be in daylight. Still what it would allow (I can't believe I got talked into it), would be packing up around dusk, a couple of pints and bed by 2300...

Karl got down there for around 1600, I didn't get there until 1730 and was just beaten by Actionboy. He's home for a while and decided to bless us with his company for a little social. He'd brought along one of his daughters too seeing as it was such a nice night.

He's been crazing me to put this pic on, thank god his daughter gets her looks from mummy!

Just before I got there Genocide had fluked a schoolie. The day before the sea had looked mega and I'd stupidly told Genocide that it looked great, the upshot being this stupid session! The sea looked ok but a fraction of the surf that had been there the day before. I set up and fought loose weed for the first of the ebb, winding in my bait after 10 minutes to find it perfect. Christ how bad is it when the fecking crabs won't eat your bait?

Anyway Geno's schoolie was the sum of the piscatorial action, Actionboy didn't care he was happy to be out and his daughter just wanted him to take her to Macdonalds. Me and Karl said our goodbye's to the boy when we got to the cars then cleared off for a couple in the Ingleside to discuss the lack of fish. It's been done to death on internet forums but it has me baffled. We've fished good seas where we should've had bits and bobs if no proper fish, Karl's schoolie saved four blanks on the trot for him. I know we are not International class anglers or anything but we usually manage a few. Its not just the bit of coast we fish either, seems everywhere (with very few exceptions) is finding the going tough.

Still its never a waste of time and it was a nice night to be out and good to see old friends fit and well. I wish I could say the same for all of my friends, a guy I know has been given some terrible news. I have first hand experience of cancer, thankfully I've been very lucky too, but this guy has had the worst news imagineable. There's nothing anybody can do or say to help but he should at least know we are all rooting for him and his family during these very difficult times.

Right I'm off to chuck some fluff tonight, I was going to go with Genocide, Nobby and Pete tomorrow night but forgot it's my 11th aniversary, that went down well....

Frustrating session..

I was looking forward to fishing last night. I'd made arrangements with Pete, Genocide and PK to have a go down one of my local beaches. Conditions looked good for a few smoothounds and I had a real sense that something would happen. It didn't.

PK just cast for a bit, he'd been on nights the last two nights and left us after fish and chips around 2200 and we started fishing in earnest around then. First chuck I had a weaver, a big one too around 6oz the very next bung and I have a smut pup not half a pound. I feel very confident now that we are going to get some proper smuts on the ebb, we didn't.

In fact it was worse than very poor. They were the only two fish I had, Karl blanked though Pete managed 3 sizeable codling at close range. When I say sizeable they were on the measure but they were all returned, I guess the biggest would've been around 1lb. Codling often turn up on our beaches in the summer, particularly after a blow. Weed was a nuisance rather than a showstopper and dropped when the tide did an hour into the ebb. I lost some kit on an ebb snag (not there on the flood) and Karl lost some bits too. Smuts can be a bit of an enigma, conditions were right but the beach wasn't, be interesting to see if they were caught anywhere else in Norfolk last night.

Driven to distraction..

Fishing gets under your skin, anybody that fishes more than just "occasionally for fun" knows how it can drive you to despair. It can cost marriages, friends, vast sums of money and sometimes you have to wonder whether the results are worth the effort.

I got an email from a dear friend, I've reproduced it below. I've omitted his name to hide some of his shame, no wonder he's at that "is it all worth it" point, enough to drive any man to distraction or worse to knitting..

I'll tell you what mate. I've had a f***ing gut full.

I get down to the beach and I'm fishing for half six. The sea is perfect. Absolutely perfect. The nightmare begins.

Although it was fishable, weed was a proper pain in the arse. Down to one rod at times. It was like that all the time I was there. Guess what. No fish, no crabs, no bites, and no more f***ing enthusiasm.

About half eight these two women (thirties, slim, attractive) come down the beach walking their dogs, a terrier and a doberman. Well there wasn't much dry beach, just that corner where we fish, but they set off northwards. Next thing, they've disappeared round that first point, bearing in mind there's a big sea and it's still flooding. Oh dear. As it started getting dark I was packing up and they still hadn't come back. Now I am concerned.

I packed my kit away and started walking down the beach in the direction they'd gone. Going round the first point I get hit by a wave and get a proper boot full. What joy! Anyway I hadn't gone much further when I spot them both walking back towards me so I turned round and went back to my kit, picked it up and trudged off back to the car.

By the time I get to the car it's almost dark. I've got the rods in the car and the rest of the kit is on the floor when they turn up.

"Thanks for coming to check on us" they say. I explain how dangerous it is down there when the sea's like that, why I was a bit concerned as it was getting dark, how I got knocked over by a wave last winter, and about an angler getting washed away at Kessingland. (did I mention I won the memorial match? - ed)

Next thing I turn round and stand on the terrier which screams and squirms from under one foot, and straight under the other sending me flying. Just for a laugh the doberman gets all protective and bites my f***ing leg! The only good thing was it bit me on the boot and the teeth didn't make it through my bib-n-brace, but it's a bit worrying having an angry dog at close quarters when you're on the floor!

Anyway, when I'd dusted myself off, the dogs both came over and made their peace (and they were both very friendly), and I apologised to the girls for nearly killing the little one, and made it home without further incident.

I'm left thinking, why me? I'm not a bad person. I haven't ever DELIBERATELY run over any old people, or cats (well there was once but it was a long time ago).

I need a new hobby. One that doesn't involve water, women, dogs, weed, long walks, short walks, physical effort of any kind, or much expense.

Do you fancy forming a knitting circle?

Stick your hand up your arris man and pull yourself together before you degenerate to this!

When I see him next I'm going to get one of those crystals, you know the ones, you hang them in front of your eyes and they hypnotise you and make you believe you can do anything. I should think that it'll work for him, it works for Scooby Doo..

Look into my eyes, not around the eyes, look in my eyes