I found this article this evening whilst looking for something else on the computer. It first appeared in the monthly Sea Fishing Magazine that went out of circulation a while back.

A visit to a remote beach I last fished over thirty years ago gives cause for reflection and analysis of the passing years.

On summer nights we waded out into the surf and cast our strips of mackerel into the dark night beneath star-studded skies. The high cliffs and hills towered above us; behind us on the foreshore paraffin Tilley lamps hissed emitting a comforting glow. We held our rods in eager anticipation as the early flood tide crept up sandy channels between the rock and kelp. The cool night air filled with that delightful aroma of surf and seaweed. The Modern Arms super flex hollow fibreglass reverse taper beachcaster was matched to an ABU Ambassadeur 7000c with its iconic red side plates. This was loaded with dark blue 18lb b.s Sylcast line. Of course not every night was a success though sometimes it all came together and that slight tug on the line would be followed by a powerful lunge as a silver sided bass moved away with the bait. The rod was swept back and we would run backwards up the beach to set the hook. The drama of the battle remains etched upon the mind and the sight of the bass as it came to the shore with its bristling defiant fins. Followed by the triumphant moment when the silver prize was held aloft to be gazed upon in wonder.

Looking back into old diaries I find notes of successful forays. On one such night we fished from 9.30pm until 6.00am and I landed a bass of 6lb 14oz whilst my mate Nick Phillips landed a fine bass of 8lb 4oz. This was September 5^th and 6^th 1980 hard to believe that it was over thirty fours years ago. Looking at my diary I fished there again the following summer landing a bass of 6lb 10oz. These bass whilst not huge were the culmination of several summer and autumn nights fishing this wild and rugged beach. I had first fished the beach in 1976 after hearing of a double figure bass landed from this remote shoreline. In 1976 I was a teenager of fifteen mad keen on fishing especially for bass and grey mullet.

Those nights of adventure are vivid images burnt into my memory. I wonder how many teenagers would venture out to fish through the night these days? Back then the Combe Martin Sea Angling Club had a strong junior membership of over twenty. For a few years sea fishing was all the rage amongst the village youth. Of course in this day and age how many parents would allow their children to disappear onto a wild rugged shoreline and fish through the night returning home the following day long after the sun had risen.

There was an elderly gentlemen I knew who had lived in the village all his life and must have been into his late eighties. He had fought through the First World War and undoubtedly had many tales to tell. I remember him mentioning the beach and how they had set long lines there as boys. Did you catch bass I asked? No codling he replied and lots of them.

I have intended to go back to this beach many times over recent seasons but had not got around to it until I eventually set a date in the diary to meet up with long time fishing buddy Kevin Legge. I had viewed the beach from high above back in the spring after the winter storms and was heartened by a large expanse of sand. The beach has always been a mixture of rock and sand patches with dense kelp beds flanking the beach at low water.

On this evening in early September we arrived at the top of the cliff after a strenuous hike and looked down at the familiar bay below. The path descended winding through dense blackthorn, bracken and brambles. The sweet fragrance of honeysuckle hung in the air and the distinctive sound of crickets was all around. The last few yards to the beach saw us scramble down a grey scree of loose shale and mud.

Standing on the beach I was eager to tackle up but paused a moment or two to take in the scene. The tide had already pushed up past the sand and onto the steep shelving shingle. The sun was still high in the sky and illuminated the familiar coastline that I have fished for over forty years. A big swell was pounding the shoreline, that familiar smell of surf and seaweed filled the air.

The mile long walk to the mark would have been hard going in waders so Kevin had worn light weight walking boots, whilst I had worn a pair of old trainers. Waders and wading boots were packed in our rucksacks to don on arrival at the beach.

I baited with a side of Ammo mackerel whilst Kevin elected to use a large portion of juice and scent oozing spider crab. The baits were launched out beyond the breakers. A considerable quantity of weed could be seen close into the shore and it was obvious that this could cause us difficulties if the line became fouled. To conquer this we held the rods high up to keep the line clear.

After twenty minutes or so Kevin indicated that something had intercepted his bait. Kevin seldom rushes and analysed what was happening out beyond the waves. A tap on the rod tip was followed by slackening line as whatever had the bait moved towards the shore. The rod was lifted and the reel handle cranked until the prize was persuaded to come towards the beach. I placed my rod in the rod rest as high as possible and walked to the waters edge. We both expected to see the silver flanks of a bass but it was no bass that emerged but a bull huss of around 8lb!

To catch in full daylight was a great start to the session as the best time is generally at the turn of the light or after dark when many species move closer to the shoreline. The night’s High water was an hour after sunset; ideally it would have been an hour later but we could only fish Saturday night due to work and other commitments.

Whilst it was light we could observe the presence of the floating weed and at times it was possible to fish with rods upon a rest with the butt cups situated well up the tripods back leg with the rod tip high. As darkness fell I decided to try and fish a second rod and improve my chances. Shortly after casting it became obvious that weed had fouled the line as the rod tip bounced with the crashing of each wave. I reeled in quickly placing the rod with my tackle at the top of the beach. As I returned to the other rod I cursed for I had undoubtedly missed my first chance of a fish as the line had fallen slack ensnaring the line in several pounds of weed.

I continued with the fish bait using a cocktail of Ammo mackerel and dirty squid fished on a pennel rig consisting of 6/0 Sakuma Extras. After casting out I made every effort to ensure that the line was tight with the rod held high. A large rock at the top of the beach enabled me to clamber higher ensuring the line was well clear of the breaking waves and weed. At around high water I felt a tap followed by slackening line, on setting the hook I felt that pleasing living resistance as the fish was brought ashore. Again it was not the expected bass but another plump huss of 5lb to 6lb. After a quick picture out went fresh bait that was once again intercepted after a few minutes with another similar sized huss brought writhing through the surf.

Kevin was also getting bites but failed to connect until eventually hooking the culprit a plump codling of a couple of pounds.

We fished the tide back for two hours of the ebb and packed away close to midnight. With a star-studded sky high above we set off up the steep winding path to the top of the cliff where we lingered for a few moments to glance back across the Bristol Channel and the bay.

It was hard to believe that it was over thirty years since I had last walked this path rod in hand. I will be back to fish the beach again soon in hope of a silver bass. Time stands still on this wild beach as generation’s fish there from time to time. A hundred years ago my old friend caught codling, as did Kevin on this night. We never caught bull huss on our trips three decades before so perhaps this reflects an increase in numbers of this species. Strangely I have never seen a dogfish caught from the venue.

It’s a strange perspective returning to a mark after thirty years in some ways nothing has changed. This gives a comforting realisation that nature and the landscape endure beyond our mortality. Next morning my aching legs reminded me that I was either getting older or I needed to get more regular exercise. The fishing tackle we used had improved but in reality it contributed little to the experience. We tend to think that there were more fish about thirty years ago but in reality my fishing diary tells a different story. Whilst we remember the silver bass we forget the blank sessions and nights when we caught just a couple of pouting.

 

TOP TIPS     

• If it’s a long walk pack the waders in the rucksack and wear light weight walking boots or trainers.
• If there is a lot of weed fish one rod and hold the tip high.
• Observe where the weed is gathering twenty yards along the beach it may not be as dense.
• Be aware that beaches change with sand and rock patches changing with tides and storms.
• Time your session to coincide with peak times.

 

 

I glimpsed the spotted flank of a good-sized brown trout in edge of the river and vowed to return with the fly rod and suitable selection of offerings. Warm sun was beating down and we had suffered a blank outing to the river in search of thin-lipped grey mullet. We had glimpsed a shoal further up stream but they had drifted out of sight after a baited Mepps spinner was cast close to them.

James was lacking enthusiasm; tired after a few too many ales the previous night he would have preferred a day sat quietly watching his rod chilling with bait in the water. It was a warm humid day’ cows ambled lazily swishing their tails as flies buzzed around them. Their scent and that of estuary mud hung in the air. The sky was blue with high white cotton wool clouds and barely a breath of wind. The day had slipped by surprising quickly despite the lack of success and I told James a little of the history of this pleasant meandering bend in the river.

Many generations of angler have visited the bend over the years and I have been privileged to speak with some of them and share their memories. Several years ago I purchased a little green book Coarse Fishing in the Barnstaple Area’ By D.J. Rogers and G.W.Mosdell

The book tells of big roach tempted from the bend on bread flake and paste. Silver flanked beauties that frequently topped the magical two-pound barrier. Dave contacted me a few years ago after reading an article I had written on the lost roach of the Taw. We shared a drink in the Chichester Arms before walking to the river down a well-trodden path beside Venn stream that joins the River Taw on the bend. Dave showed me where the Cricketers’ once played on those long ago summer days back in the sixties. We stood upon the flood embankment and Dave pointed to the flat area of grass that had once been the cricket pitch, he told where the small pavilion had stood. In the still evening it was easy to visualize the scene of years ago. The cricketers in their whites: that quintessential English sound of summer; the rap of leather upon willow echoing through the balmy air.

.Yet if you closed your eyes that distinctive smell of warm estuary mud would be there still. The roach are perhaps long gone. I once fished there on a cold winter’s night ledgering with a pinch of bread-flake on a size 10 hook. A quiver tip illuminated with a luminous attachment that failed to twitch. The cold night was punctuated by the sounds of geese flying over.

Jack Anderton fished the bend in the fifties catching up to 100 mullet on a tide. He told me of fun carefree childhood days frolicking in the river. Jack lived within sight of the bend and often fished there early in the morning before breakfast. His mother would call to him from the bedroom when breakfast was cooked and Jack would amble back to enjoy a feast undoubtedly smelling of estuary mud. Jack also told me of escapades trapping eels that were abundant then.

Many roach over the magical 2lb mark were landed by Jack, which proved highly profitable as the famous wine makers Williams & Humbert offered a prize of a bottle of sherry for any roach topping this weight. One red-letter day fishing close to the Cricket pitch at Bishops Tawton using float-fished maggots he landed 39lb of roach including five over 2lb.

In the 1970’s Kevin Richmond was drawn to the bend in search of big eels. He wrote of this in the Journal of the local specimen group of how he landed a huge eel of 5lb 73/4oz.

Kevin Richmond

Since 1974 it has always been my ambition to land a five-pound eel. I came close to achieving this during the later part of 74 when I had a very large fish straighten a 1/0 Aberdeen at the net. Richard Dennis was there at the time and he will confirm the size of that fish.

During the years 1976 to 1978 I slowly improved my best eels; 4lb 1½oz (1976) 4lb 5¼oz (1977) and 4lb 7oz (1978). It was not until the 13^th July 1979 that the fish came my way………

I decided to have an attempt fishing what is known as the cliff swim (due to the opposite bank from the fishing position being continually eaten away during periods of high water) as it is my belief that somewhere on the river is a point where the salinity content causes an interaction between estuarine and freshwater species enabling both to coexist together. I also believe that the growth rates would be much more greater in such an area due to the fish population getting the best of both worlds.

Upon arriving at the swim I ground baited with approximately 20 to 30 chopped trout, laid over an area of 10’ x 15’ to which an additive had been added. Rods were set up. Terminal rigs put on hooks sharpened. I cast out at 20:30 and had my first run at 21:45. Due to the very high tides the fishing at this stage was very difficult due to the very fast tidal flow. I did not land my first eel until 22:50 – it weighed 1lb 6oz. three more eels came up to midnight weighing 11oz, 6oz and 2lb 6oz and then sport died until 03:15 when I landed an eel of 1lb 9oz.

At 03:30 I had a run, which was no different to any of the others – until I hit it!!. The 1½lb test curve rod slammed over and line was rapidly taken. The fish kept pulling over to the cliff and virtually reached the other bank before I stopped it. Constant pressure slowly brought the fish across the river, until it was three or four yards away- where the fish woke up!

Suddenly the line went slack as the eel belted past me and went through my other two lines ‘tangling one. By now I was wondering just what the hell I had hooked?

Once again constant pressure brought the eel in close again and I managed to bring it within netting distance. My main worry at his stage was that the tangled line would in some way foul the bottom or the landing net. I gently eased the fish over the net- and the sodding thing slid over the net cord and belted off again!

As can be imagined this almost made me into a nervous wreck and it was with great relief that I finally netted the fish. I bit off the tangled line and carried the fish up the bank into the field just to be safe.

Even at this stage the eel looked big and when I shone the torch on it I realised that it was bloody enormous. With the weigh net included the eel went 5lb 15¾oz and as my net registered 8oz the eel was 5lb 7¾oz, a Devon best and over a pound better than my previous biggest eel. The eel was in superb condition measuring 40½” long and was almost a constant 9” girth throughout. The photographs were taken and the eel was slipped into my keep-net.

Early next morning two ‘noddies’ off salmon fishing strolled down and I got one of these guys to take a couple of shots of my fish and myself. It was then returned and swam away strongly.

Who said Friday 13^th was unlucky?

It was not just eels that Kevin tempted on his dead baits for one night his bait was seized by fine double figure bass.

Much water has flowed around the bend as generations of fishers have ebbed away. As James and I walked from the river on a summer’s afternoon the church bells rang out and I wondered if earlier generations had paused to listen as they left the waters edge? There is something timeless about the bend and many other places we cast our lines.

 

When I decided to go to Norway with my son I wanted to target some of the species using tackle that would maximise the enjoyment of the catch. Some friends had landed some large coalfish on a trip to Norway last year and I decided that the opportunity to catch twenty pound plus fish on spinning gear was likely to be an exhilarating experience.

I contacted St Leger Custom Rods and was provided with a matching pair of their Renegade lure fishing rods. When the rods arrived I was very impressed with their smart appearance and the pleasing addition of our names neatly inscribed on each blank. I will confess however that I was a little unsure whether such a light rod could handle big fish?

My first couple of outings with the rod in early summer targeting bass in homewaters proved unsuccessful fish wise but an eye opener as regards to the rods casting performance. Matched up with a reel loaded with 20lb b.s braid they put a standard sized plug out a good distance with ease. The rod also transmitted the movement of the plug well.

The rods true test was to come in Norway’s Havnnes Handelssted where we would be targeting cod and coalfish. On the first day of our trip we set off in search of fish and I caught my first double figure fish on the rod an evil looking wolf fish of 11lb 2oz. The rod handled this hard fighting fish with ease whilst ensuring that the account was an enjoyable one. Several cod up to 10lb followed with the rod absorbing the lunges of each fish well yet still ensuring an enjoyable tussle.

The rods first real test came when we fished the deep waters of the Rotsund. A six-ounce lead, a boom with an 8ft trace and a sidewinder lure was sent to the depths over 100 metres beneath the boat. I had matched the rod with a Penn   loaded with 50lb b.s braid. The rig was slowly retrieved through the depths searching for the        coalfish that we knew haunted the deep clear waters. When the take came it was brutal the rod locked over in an intense curve the reel singing as the coalfish crash-dived. At the end of each dive heavy pressure was applied and the fish encouraged towards the surface. The Renegade had far more backbone than I had at first thought and handled these exceptionally powerful fish well allowing an exhilarating battle whilst giving confidence that the battles outcome would be successful. I used the rod to land several coalfish the best scaling 24lb. My son James also used the rod to successfully land several coalfish up to 14lb along with plenty of cod up to 10lb.

The rod also proved a very versatile tool and gave great sport targeting dab off the harbours pier. Easily casting a 3oz lead and a two hook rig for the dabs that we caught to well over a pound. I could happily travel the world with one of these rods knowing that they could be used to target a wide range of species.

The one-piece design certainly gives the rod a very pleasing action with a steely backbone that can tame the largest of fish. The only disadvantage is of coarse the length of the rod necessitating the use of a rod tube to transport when flying. I have also suggested the inclusion of a hook retention eye to secure the lure when moving around.

Rod Specifications

Length 7ft one piece

Action – Medium Heavy Fast

Handle- EVA

Reel Seat – Aero

Guides Microwave and Minima

 

St Leger Custom Made boat rod

The second rod I took with me to Norway was a 30lb class through action boat rod. Smart eye catching livery and quality line guides with a pleasing to the touch duplon handle oozed quality. I coupled this with a multiplier reel and 50lb b,s braid. This rod was put to use where the depth and current dictated the use of heavier leads and lures to reach big fish that lived within the depths of Norway’s majestic fiords. It was also used in the hope of hooking the huge halibut that can be caught all around Havnnes.

The rod proved a joy to use with a responsive tip that registered takes well. On hooking the fish there was plenty of reserve to bully big fish and a forgiving action that absorbed the lunges of the fish. It would have been good to put the rod through a good test but in the event I only managed to hook cod to 22lb and halibut to 13lb. On a few occasions I snagged the bottom and sensed the rods steely backbone. I would confidently take the rod in the search of bigger fish including large halibut and shark.