To Aldeburgh on the Suffolk coast for a family holiday. I managed to persuade my wife that of course we could get my sea fishing kit into the car, together with luggage, dogs etc. The tripod is so long that it had to rest horizontally across the top of the seats, with the pointed ends perilously close to my wife’s neck in the passenger side. An emergency stop would have been interesting…
Aldeburgh is an impossibly pretty little seaside town sitting on a shingle beach. We’ve been going for years. It’s been colonised SW3. Put it this way, if you want to blend in as a man you must wear the uniform of Burberry cashmere sweater casually draped over the shoulders, Oakley shades perched on your head, powder blue chinos and deck shoes without socks. The sound of ‘Oh Jeremy Cor-byn’ is not heard much here. But enough of the inverted snobbery; the fact that I holiday here means that I won’t be exempt from the blindfold and the cigarette come the glorious revolution.
Anyway, to the fishing. A disclaimer – when it comes to sea fishing I do not know what I am doing. My minimalist set up on the beach:
I brought some old frozen ‘dirty’ squid (ie stinks) and frozen mackerel with me. The reek of the bait sticks on your hands for days. Whack a bit of either, or both, on a hook attached to a lump of lead and hurl it into the sea. Over six days I fished for maybe seven hours at all states of the tide. I probably saw five or six distinct knocks and converted one of those into a micro-codling not hugely bigger than a gudgeon:
Had another two of similar size on different days without knowing they were on:
I was harassed constantly by this remarkably brazen little brute who was after my bait:
So that was it for the week – three piddling codlets. I’m not moaning: there are worse ways to fritter away your time on this Earth.
[UPDATE: Gary (see comments) has kindly pointed out that the fish are in fact whiting. Oops!]