Disappearing act!
Lincolnshire’s beaches have been producing some of the best sport for many years, but when two local experts arrive for an early morning session, they were in for a rude awakening…
Anglers visiting shore marks on the Holderness Coast and down into Lincolnshire have been enjoying some seriously incredible fishing recently. To put it bluntly, it’s been hectic and off the scale in terms of success for many. The usual species such as smoothhounds and bass have not only ventured inshore in huge numbers, they’re even bigger.
Thornback and spotted rays have also been muscling in to provide variety and there’s also been rumours of the odd stingray being landed. But for some anglers who are on the ball, experiencing hardhitting bites followed by long powerful runs, eventually resulting in strong hook snoods being bitten clean through, has seen them turning to using wire traces. Incredibly, this summer has seen more tope also feeding closer to the beach, and some are nudging a whopping 50lb. If you get your tactics wrong when these are around, don’t expect to be connected for too long if one grabs your bait.
ACTION-PACKED FISHING
Gone are the days of just turning up to a venue on sheer speculation. The internet has become a firm provider of up-to-date information for anglers, and none more so than social media.
My Facebook feed was stuffed with pictures of happy shore anglers, proudly showing off huge specimens. Many of the smoothhounds were into high double-figures, with the odd fish over the magical 20lb in weight. I even saw a huge, jaw-dropping hound proclaimed to be more than 23lb.
Feeding among the sharks have also been bass and I’m not talking merely just one or two fish either. Some anglers have caught as many as 20 fish in a single session, with lots of these spikey predators well into double figures. And then I came across images of large tope that had been beached, it was incredible to see.
I continued scrolling through pages upon pages of Facebook posts, mesmerised by what I was looking at and it was plain to see, this part of the east coast of the UK was certainly on top form.
It was at this point I stumbled across a post from Grimsby angler George Smith. He was holding a bass of over 10lb. As I continued reading, he explained that he caught it on his first cast, followed by a nine pounder and many more around 6lb. He’d also encountered an abundance of smoothhounds too. I don’t think I can recall ever seeing such a session by a single angler. But when I read further on, he mentioned that every other angler on the beach was enjoying equally good sport. I needed to get in on the action and began forming a plan to have a session.
SENSE OF EXCITEMENT
A phone call to George resulted in a long conversation, during which I sensed the excitement in his voice as he explained just how good the fishing had been, and still is.
As he flicked through his tide book, we arranged to meet at Huttoft two days later. It meant an early morning start for us as low water was around 6am.
The Lincolnshire beaches aren’t particularly far away from me here in Cambridgeshire where I live, roughly around 70 miles. But, with many of the roads being single lane, it’s not uncommon to find myself sat behind an articulated lorry for much of the journey.
I arrived at 6.30am and as I walked on to the beach front promenade, I spotted two lone anglers already fishing right on the low water mark. George had been joined by another mate of ours, Simon Drayton, a match angler from Gainsborough.
Conditions couldn’t have been any better with a cloudless, blue sky and a bright sun already rising high. There was plenty of colour in the water too, which is always a positive sign that there could be a few fish to be caught.
An hour into the flood and George had a walloping bite on the rod tip. Not a slow pull, or a tap tap, but a huge lunging hit that bent the tip right over, a classic bass hit. Sadly, and frustratingly, it failed to connect with the hook, which can often happen with bass, and it was gone.
The fishing was slow to say the least and as two hours turned into three hours, there were no bites. And, to make matters a little worse, the flooding tide brought with it a huge amount of weed. It was horrendous and reeling in was difficult with much of the mainline covered in it.
After reeling in to change his bait, George removed the large clumps of weed onto the beach and revealed thousands of tiny crabs and shrimps among it. There was no doubt that there was a huge amount of feed out there to attract the fish. He clipped on another pre-baited rig and whacked it way
out into the tide.
At last, the first fish emerged from the surf as Simon beached a nice flounder. Not quite what we were targeting, but welcome, nevertheless. George looked puzzled: “Four hours into the flood and it looks like the smoothhounds aren’t around – or the bass,” he said.
For weeks, months even, this beach had been on fire, producing lots of fish. However, today it seemed that the fish had done a disappearing act. I was disappointed but past experience has taught me that smoothhounds move around in packs and can arrive on the scene in an instant.
Suddenly, George had a proper dropback, slackline bite. Was this the arrival of the hounds? As he slowly reeled in, the fish wasn’t putting up too much of a fight, just enough to signal to him that he had a fish on the hook.
Eventually, the fish emerged on to the sand in a flash of silver.
“It’s a bass,” he shouted. As we both made our way to the fish, George looked at me with a smile and said:
“Hang on, it’s not a bass!”
He was right as the forked tail and lack of spiked dorsal fin became a real giveaway. “Look at that, it’s an Allis shad,” he said. It was huge too, possibly close to 2lb and easily the biggest I’d ever seen caught. These fish are protected and must be returned to the sea if caught. At this time of year, they head to the rivers and estuaries in preparation of their annual spawn and this one had succumbed to a peeler crab bait.
Excitement over, the shad was returned quickly, and George cast out another peeler crab bait that quickly resulted in a plump flounder. The hounds and bass were proving to be elusive.
It was almost high water and the signs weren’t looking good, perhaps the ebb tide may be more productive?
DETERMINED TO SUCCEED
As the sea slowly started retreating on the ebb, George reeled in his fifth lesser weaver of the session. It’s easy to see why so many holidaymakers become victims of these tiny, venomous fish each summer. They like to bury themselves in the sand in shallow water, with only their black dorsal fin poking through the top. Paddling bare foot on an east coast sandy beach can indeed be perilous and hundreds of people end up in A&E every summer after stepping on one.
The weed had virtually gone with the ebb tide but still the bites and fish were scarce. We were nine hours into the session, and it was turning into a gruelling trip.
George and Simon are experienced matchmen and were by no means giving up. They were counting on their expertise and knowledge of the venue to search out a decent fish. However, occasionally, the fish are simply not there to be caught.
Just then, George had a bite. A pull down on the rod tip and he was in. A few moments later and a bass of around 2lb was safely at his feet, proving that if you don’t give up, you can still find a feeding fish.
It was right on low water and a decision had to be made. The lads had been fishing a full 12 hours, my flask of coffee had been empty for two of them and I was shattered.
“They might come on the next flood tide into the evening,” explained George. He was determined that the fish would eventually move in, but I know when I’m beat and said I was ready for home.
This all proves that fishing can be so unpredictable and even when the conditions are perfect, the fish just suddenly decide not to feed or move elsewhere.
That’s the reason we keep on going fishing. When it’s good, it’s good, but when it’s dismal, we know in just a few tides, the fish will return.
Looking at my Facebook feed a couple of days later, the fish did return, I guess we were just unlucky on this occasion. That’s fishing. ■
“A few moments later and a bass of around 2lb was safely at his feet, proving that if you don’t give up, you can still find a feeding fish”