What a great move!
Our writer finds time to enjoy some fishing when moving a friend’s boat from the Lincolnshire coast to the Humber
It took a while for marinas and port authorities to allow us back on the boats after lockdown was relaxed, mainly due to conflicting guidelines being thrown about by various Government departments, so my first fishing session afloat was going to have to wait.
My friend Roger Cooling and I had been planning to move his boat RYN from Fosdyke marina, near Boston, to Grimsby on the River Humber for quite some time, and about a week after we were allowed back on the water, we seized our opportunity. This was going to be an exciting journey, taking more than 11 hours, including a 90-minute fishing stop at Skegness. Roger had put together a route plan, and we had notified the relevant authorities (namely Humber Coastguard and Humber Port Authority), so they could track our progress. I make no apologies for what I’m wearing in the photographs. I’d spent an evening laying in a paddock, shooting rabbits, a couple of nights previous, and when I arrived at Fosdyke marina at 2am the following morning it was a little bit too chilly for just wearing the T-shirt and hoodie I had donned, so I grabbed my shooting jacket from the boot of my car before heading out – and I’m glad I did.
Our plan was a simple one. We’d driven over to Grimsby the previous afternoon to drop off Roger’s van, then headed back to Fosdyke in my car. I dropped Roger at the boat around 6pm and headed home to grab some sleep, then awoke at 1.30am to head to the marina, which is just five minutes from my house.
Roger had the kettle on and soon the coffee was flowing, and after a good ten-minute briefing while RYN’s engine warmed up, we
slipped the mooring and headed downriver on our way to Skegness.
It was very misty, almost foggy. Although visibility was more than 100 yards, we kept the speed down to four knots for the first hour downriver just to be safe and to allow the sun to do its thing and give us some light.
Both Roger and I were excited to be afloat again after being stuck indoors for a couple of months. I can’t explain to you just how good it felt to be on that boat at that moment, even though I knew we were only stopping off for an hour or so’s fishing en route.
SKEGGY SESSION
It took us three hours to reach one of our favourite marks off Skegness, which was our planned pitstop to allow the engine some down time, and for us to have a little fish, along with a bacon sandwich. We’d got squid with us for bait and, to be honest, you really don’t need much else when fishing off Skegness or in The Wash.
Within no time our 10-40g lure rods were hooping over as a pack of hard-fighting smoothhounds pushed through the shallow water. It was absolute mayhem for half-an-hour, with three rods going off at the same time. We boated a good dozen or so hounds nudging double figures before Roger latched into the species we’d both hoped we were going to catch – a bass. This fish put up a decent scrap and, weighing around the 4lb mark, it was a good eating fish and destined for Roger’s frying pan.
Because the action had been so intense, we’d not managed to cook our breakfast, so that was my job once we’d reeled in, upped anchor and set off on the last leg of our journey to Grimsby.
By now it was 7am and it was still quite misty, but there was no wind. We could hear the fog horns blasting in the distance as we continued on our way, and talk onboard was mostly about what the next day’s fishing was going to hold and what the rest of the year would throw up.
Another hour or two passed and the sun finally began to break through. That was my cue to turn on the gas and get the frying pan out for a bacon butty and fresh coffee. The trip went seamlessly.
A we entered the River Humber, Roger called the marina and Port Authority on the radio to let them know we’d made it. The amount of marine traffic in the river is stupendous, with masses of huge container ships, and just about every other kind of vessel you can imagine. We soon learned that we had to check in every couple of miles to make sure we were clear to keep on our heading. All I can say is thank heavens for AIS (automatic identification system) – I wouldn’t want to attempt navigating the Humber without it.
SAFE ARRIVAL
The lock system at Fisherman’s Dock has a freeflow function for an hour or so around high tide, which means you can just call up on the radio and they’ll tell you when it’s safe to pass through, without having to wait for lock gates to open and close. Roger had planned the trip for us to arrive at 1.45pm for this very reason, so we motored straight through and on to Roger’s new berth.
It really didn’t seem like we had been at sea for over 11 hours, which I guess is because we both enjoyed the day so much. However, plans for the next day’s fishing were now being discussed, after what we had learned on our way upriver.
The problem with the Fisherman’s Dock where the boat is moored is the road bridge over the water. Underneath the bridge is really silted up and, as such, you can only get in and out a couple of hours either side of high water. If they dredged the channel, like the locals have been campaigning for over two years, you could go in and out at your leisure.
This little setback now put us on the spot. We’d planned to drive back to Boston, which takes 75 minutes, then return about 8am the next day and lock out to get into the Humber. Obviously, this was not going to happen now due to the silted-up channel, so we had to decide whether to go out at 2.30pm the next day and come back in at 2.30am, or rush home, grab a couple of hours sleep and get back to the boat for 2.30am. Roger and I deliberated for all of ten seconds – 2.30am it was.
You might think us mad for driving an hourand-a-quarter home for a few hours, then driving the same distance back to go fishing. If we’d known about the silted channel, we’d have taken
enough supplies and kipped on the boat, but alas we hadn’t. It’s no big deal, though, because part of the reason we moved the boat in the first place is that it takes a good hour to get to the open sea down the river from Fosdyke, so we we’re really just replacing that boat ride with a car journey – with access to much better fishing.
EARLY BIRD
Now this is where it gets interesting. I won’t go into too much detail, but let’s just say that I left my hunting jacket on the boat, with my car keys in it! So when we got back to Fosdyke to pick up my car, I had a good three hours of running around. Roger dropped me at my mum’s so he could go home and get some kip, then I had to go to my wife’s work to get her house keys because mine were safely locked in my car, then once back home I had to dig around for a spare battery for my spare car key. It was an absolute nightmare, and I finally hit the sack at 10pm.
Roger arrived at mine just before 1am, and we loaded his kit into my car then set off for Grimsby. He was wetting himself when I told him about the previous evening’s escapades. When we arrived at the boat at 2am it was deathly silent. There were small bass and mullet milling about on the surface in the marina, and we were both really excited about the day ahead. However, it was still rather foggy, due to the lack of breeze, and this was going to be the ultimate test for Roger’s boating skills – going out into new territory, in the dark and in the fog.
We needn’t have worried because the port authority runs the river like an airport. All vessels must have AIS switched on, even small boats, and that way they can control the flow of marine traffic all the way up and down the river. It’s no big deal, you just radio through when you want to move marks and tell them where you want to head. They then get back to you and tell you if you can go there and then, or, like we had to do, wait for twenty minutes for three ferries to move through the channel.
Although we’d both fished the Humber a few times on various boats over the years, we had no marks to head to, so I picked a spot off the chart and that’s where we dropped anchor first. It was slow fishing, with a few dogfish and smoothhounds, so after an hour we decided to move to the Hull side of the river, where Roger had a rough idea that there may be a few fish.
His plan was correct, and just minutes after arriving we were straight into a better stamp of smoothhound. The action continued thick and fast for at least four hours, with hounds, doggies, small bass and a rogue 4lb codling to one of my rods, then about an hour after the tide had turned, Roger latched into another decent fish. I just assumed it was another feisty hound, but soon Roger was shouting for the net. “Dave, it’s a bass, a big bass,” came the cry as I dropped my rod and ran to the stern, net in hand.
This bass didn’t want to give up, and with very little in the way of tide to push it back into my waiting net, it was like a slapstick scene from a Laurel and Hardy film. That bass was in and out of the net twice before I finally managed to scoop it up of the third attempt. I’m just glad we did manage to land it, because it turned out to be Roger’s new personal best, weighing in at 7lb 1oz. What a result!
From that moment on we both fished extra hard for the last couple of hours, but the change of tide had slowed the fishing, and that was that. Not a bad effort for our first session. I can’t wait to get back out there, and after meeting some of the commercial lads and other skippers we now have a few areas to try. ■