SOME THOUGHTS ON BIG BASS
Submitted by Leakyboots 05/3/2016
As I write, I’m trying to fix my gammy leg, so fishing is on hold. No terrible loss as far as I’m concerned: February and March aren’t my favourite months. And being stuck at home has given me the chance to play around with my catch records.
Submitted by Damion Fryer 10/2/2016
You arrive at your chosen fishing mark just as the sun’s trying to rise on the horizon. The winds are light, the sky is clear and conditions look good. You put on your sturdy walking boots, load your rucksack onto your back and pick up your rod and reel. Read more
Submitted by Bill Fagg 26/10/2015
It’s a decent set of tides so I arrange to meet up with my mate Nigel Mullet Machine.
We arrive at the car park at the same time, tackle up and get going.
As we tromp along in the drizzle I mention to my mate the fact that my braids been fluffing up for the last couple of weeks, after a few hours of fishing it gets the point where it snaps at the slightest tug. I know something is wrong with my gear but I just can’t put my finger on it.
Submitted by Tim_the_Manc 26/05/2015
Seems like I picked the wrong two weeks to come up to Cornwall, fishing wise, as I’ve had nothing of note since we got here, and not for the want of trying, which is why I’ve squeezed all of my recent sessions into one report..
Submitted by Tim_the_Manc 19/05/2015
The last few months working on a project to install a new Stock Management system at work have been hard going in many ways; hardly enough spare time to scratch my backside and a whole new language to get to grips with; prior to January Java Beans were what you ground to make coffee and an example of SQL (sequel) Script was Rambo: First Blood Part II so my eyes have been well and truly opened these last few months.
Submitted by Bill Fagg 10/4/2015
Sally the woman gets up, she is going to work I know it.
I follow her around the house as she bustles about. Maybe she’ll give me some food.
Sally the woman has a cup of tea and looks at her phone.
“oh no” she groans and picks up a piece of paper and scribbles a note.
“Just my luck” she mutters as she heads out the door. Read more
Submitted by Bill Fagg 28/2/2015
As 2014 wound down so did the bass fishing in Dorset, others have reported 2014 as a good year but for me it fell short of average.
I used to do a lot of bait fishing from Chesil beach and also do a lot of fishing from one of Weymouth’s finest charter boats Top Cat but these days I like to go lure fishing for bass which to many might seem pretty pointless in the grimmer Winter months (it is).
But there is something about the patch I fish that keeps me going back even when I know the chances of actually catching something are slim to zero.
Since my last catch report at the end of November I’ve had a few fish, nothing special and some of them weren’t even the silvery kind but that hasn’t stopped me going to the coast most weeks as there is always something interesting to see or something interesting to find.
At the end of the year after a wet and windy blank I came across a lady who had hurt her leg after slipping on the rocks and was being tended to by a local emergency response volunteer who happens to be a chum of mine
After the previous day’s close encounter with the one that got away (while I was spinning for Mackerel and Pollack) I thought it well worth giving the mark another shot to see if I could replicate yesterday’s events, albeit this time with a successful landing of the as yet unidentified fish.
Try as I might, it wasn’t happening. A few hours of spinning proved fruitless so I went in search of a different Loch Leven mark. But not before a spot of breakfast consisting of a good handful or two of fat, juicy mussels I discovered at the low tide mark whilst foraging (unsuccessfully) for bait.
After packing up so late after my last session at Fort William, the plan was to drive just outside of town and sort out a proper plan the following morning. The problem was that I couldn’t find anywhere just out of town, at least not to the south, suitable to pull up and have a kip for a few hours.
Long story short, its nearing 1am by now, I’m absolutely shattered an I’m still driving south looking for somewhere to stay. I see a signpost for a road off the main A82 after about 20 miles or so. Given that it was a smaller road, I thought the chances of finding a little cut to pull into were higher than on the main road leading to the biggest town in the Western Highlands. Thankfully, for once I was right.