The mud lark
It might be a messy task to get to this mark, but Farm Fields proves that where there’s muck there’s brass
Farm Fields is what you might call a Marmite mark. You either love it or hate it. At best, access to this vast expanse of intertidal mud involves a bit of a trek, followed by a scramble over the wall and a foot-sucking hike through a few hundred yards of mud-covered peat.
Who can forget about the ankle-breaking channels that crisscross the sea-grass area, like a map of the London Underground, immediately in front of the wall. You shouldn’t let that put you off though.
It’s a place I know well, for during my formative years as an angler in the early 1970s, almost all of my sea fishing took place at the various seawall marks between the mouth of the River Rhymney at Cardiff and Magor, at the eastern end of the Bristol Channel.
The fishing then was good and occasionally very good. The bulk of most catches consisted of silver eels, flounders, an occasional sole, pouting, strap conger, and if we went fishing during the autumn and winter, we could be certain of catching lots of whiting, along with a few codling.
When I return to any of these marks today they look much the same as they did before, the only real difference being that each year access seems to be getting more difficult. What has changed, though, are the species of fish you can expect to catch at these various mud and peat venues. Some species are doing much better.
Cod, for example, were abundant during the 1980s through to the early years of the Millennium. Even in recent years I’d say there are more cod around than there used to be in the 1970s. Bass used to be a rarity, but are another species that is now plentiful, as are conger eels.
Thornback rays too are thriving in these shallow, muddy waters. Once a very rare capture in the area, they are now a popular target species, and the numbers of fish caught are impressive, to say the least.
However, silver eels are present in nothing like the numbers they used to be, and their average size has dropped considerably. They are now protected and, if caught, must be returned immediately. Flounders are rarer, too, and I can’t remember the last time I saw a pouting caught to the east of Newport. Whiting are less abundant, and again the average size has dropped considerably.
TIME AND TIDE
Farm Fields is located between the mouth of the River Usk and Goldcliff Point. It is backed by the concrete seawall that is so much a feature of much of this area. Peat ledges are the main features and in one or two areas, for a certain time on certain sizes of tide, they provide a comfortable platform from which to fish.
You’re still going to get plastered in mud, but at least the mud covering the ledges is a thin layer, rather than the knee-deep goo you will have trudged through.
Forget fishing at Farm Fields on any tides other than neaps; it just isn’t possible, and it can be decidedly dangerous. I wouldn’t recommend night fishing either. The smaller the tide the better, with the optimum time to fish being from around three to four hours before, to a couple of hours just after high water. On the smallest neaps you can fish from the edge of the peat for most of the session, but on larger tides you’ll have to beat a retreat to the slightly elevated altitude afforded by the grass for the hour or so around high tide.
My most recent visit to Farm Fields was a short-notice and subsequently shortened jaunt to meet up with Cardiff angler Roy Tapper and his friend Justin Bird, both of whom fish extensively throughout the area, and have been doing exceptionally well.
Thornback rays have been particularly abundant and, just the day before fishing a mile or so further east, Roy had caught six, along with both conger and silver eels, a bass, a sole and a codling. Where else in the UK could such a haul be expected from the shore in early June?
RAIN AND FISH
As I made the ten-minute hike from the nearest car park to the seawall, the weather was hot and humid, but a darkened sky out to the south west threatened rain.
By the time I located Roy and Justin, the sun was all but lost behind a dense veil of slate, and the first heavy drops of rain were starting to splatter impressively into the liquid mud underfoot. Fishing at Farm Fields really is the polar opposite to the clean sand and sparkling surf of an Atlantic surf beach. Like I said, it’s a Marmite venue.
Roy’s recommended rigs for Farm Fields include either a pulley rig, or long and low for the rays, with size 3/0 hooks. For soles, he fishes either a simple three-hook flapper or clipped rig, tied with size 4 hooks. He pointed out that if targeting soles, then these can be caught by simply lobbing a bait over the peat ledges or casting as far as you can.
Squid was Roy’s choice of bait for both thornbacks and congers, but any other fish bait will work. A whole king ragworm is number one for the soles.
My arrival not only coincided perfectly with what rapidly developed into a torrential downpour, the likes of which I would expect to experience on a tropical bonefish flat rather than the mudflats of southeast Wales. Within minutes I was truly drenched.
Given the utterly atrocious weather conditions, the sensible thing to have done would have been to secure my camera in its bag and wait for the storm to pass. At the time there seemed no end in sight and Roy was busy catching fish.
His first cast had produced a nice ray, and not long afterwards both he and Justin
beached, or should I say, mudded, a ray each, giving me a great opportunity for a double shot. What we thought was going to be the first sole of the session turned out to be a flounder (inset pic far left), with Roy’s next bite producing a lively strap conger.
Not long after this my Nikon DSLR camera stopped working, and despite trying to continue working with a smaller waterproof instamatic, everything I possessed reached the stage where it was utterly drenched and I decided to run for cover. Of course, as soon as I had slid and waded my way through the mud and climbed on top of the seawall, the rain started to ease. By the time I got back to my car the sun was starting to break through the black clouds, with an occasional patch of blue sky promising better weather to come.
Roy and Justin fished on. I later learned that Roy caught a third ray, another conger and a bass, while Justin had a couple of conger eels. For me, I think it’s time for a new camera. ■