“The closer the fish got, the more of a tussle it became, and then about 30 yards out I noticed a pair of eyes in the dark water”
I waited and it bent around again. With my heart racing, I picked up the rod and struck into something heavy.
While pumping on the rod and winding in the line, I tried to work out what was happening. It wasn’t running, and neither stuck to the seabed. “It can’t be a blonde,” I thought. The closer the fish got, the more of a tussle it became, and then about 30 yards out I noticed a pair of eyes in the dark water. I knew it was a ray.
“I’ve got a ray on,” I shouted to my friend Paul Blehs, who also lives in Bournemouth. I continued to wind in the fish, but now more tentatively, and eventually heard the words “It’s an undy” echo up the bank. I instantly felt deflated, even though many anglers would love to catch an undulate ray. Normally, I would too. But not when my heart was set on a blonde which, even though I thought I knew so much about, I had never seen.
Having looked at the undulate, I felt less deflated because it was a cracker at 13lb 2oz. After a few photographs and removing a parasite from his clasper, I walked down to the water’s edge and released him into the depths.
In one sense I was confident because the rays were feeding and it meant I had chosen the correct tide and moon phase.
However, I was not convinced about
catching my target because I’ve heard that when the small-eyeds and undulates are around, the blondes are not.
SPECIAL GROUP
My next baits were sent out at range again and I sat back on my box and glared at the tips of my rods. After what felt like an hour, my right-hand rod tip took a dive and line started peeling off the reel. This was it, it had to be!
I tightened the star-drag on my reel, wound down and struck into the fish, which decided to swim uptide. At first it caught me off balance. It lunged deep to show me its power and provided some great sport for five or 10 minutes before it rose to the surface about 40 yards out.
Again, I shouted to Paul. I’m not sure what I said in the excitement, and it may have been only a whimper, but the words “blondie, mate” danced around my ears. My hands were shaking, my legs were trembling and, at one point, I swear my bottom lip went because this fish was everything to me. I’d finally done it. All the hours, the miles, fuel, bait, hot water bottles and takeaways on the way home were all worth it.
I had got all six rays in one year. I could finally join the special group of anglers who have felt all the emotions I have to get to this point. The fish weighed 11lb 10oz and, to be honest, could have been 2lb and I would have been equally happy.
To catch a double was a bonus. I got some photographs and carried her down to the water. On release, she kited across the surface before sinking to the depths.
I had to take 10 minutes to compose myself because my hands were still trembling even though the feeling of cold had gone.
Finally, I regained my composure and got some more baits in the water. I caught a double-figure conger on one rig and another three blonde rays on consecutive casts over the top of the tide. They weren’t as big as the first, but that didn’t matter, something special had happened.
I had gone from around 100 hours of fishing at this mark from zero blondes to four in two hours. The stars aligned for me and I was in the right place at the right time. It was probably one of the most fulfilling sessions I have ever had as an angler.
Unlike after previous trips it was not a sluggish trudge back up over the bank and beating myself up over what had gone wrong or questioning my ability, decisions and sanity. This time, with a sense of pride and achievement, I briskly climbed the bank. I haven’t stopped talking about it to everyone I know since. ■