Chris McCully

Fishing Diary

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Not quite a dabfest

Saturday, 27 January 2018 at 14:13

Dab Three hours on an ebb tide - not the optimal time to fish. At half-ebb, though, the rod-tip started to knock and the next hour produced a couple of fat dabs and two equally fit flounders. Of the winter hordes of whiting there was no sign; I think whitings bite best as the tide floods, preferably towards dusk and dark. As it was I kept hurling paternostered lugworms out into the ebb as far as I could, spelling the lug with herring strips...which last gained minute and loving attention from all the local crabs. Varied and enjoyable sessions, these.

When winter comes...

Saturday, 13 January 2018 at 08:56

Snowdrops ...can spring be far behind? And only the sixth cliché of the morning....

Strange little session, utterly blank and with a broken tooth to add insult to bafflement. I suppose we all realise that there are times in deepest winter when the pike have their mouths firmly shut. I wondered about static deadbaits but the angler I encountered fishing sardines did no better than I did, so I guess it was just one of those days when the pike are simply lying there semi-torpid, digesting their last meal - which gulp of roach might have been two or three days ago. And so I spent half an hour finding and photographing clumps of wild snowdrops. There are worse ways to spend time outside.

A vintage year

Tuesday, 2 January 2018 at 15:13

Vintage I think that if you were to name one of the world's best ever cane fly-rods then the Hardy CC de France would probably feature in the discussion. As it happens I've been after one of these wands for some time, but ideally wanted to try and get hold of one made in the same year that I was. By an absolute fluke I found an 8-foot #5-6 of the right vintage - the number on the reel seat tells us the year of manufacture - and it seems to be in stunning condition. All I need now is a passing chalkstream or Yorkshire headwater on which to christen this lovely thing. Roll on the new trout season.

Tales from the Flounder King 1

Tuesday, 2 January 2018 at 14:09

Flounder A short birthday session on the pier, and a mixed catch of whiting, flounder and dab. The whiting took well (lugworm on a two-hook flapper, size 1 hooks) as the tide flooded but I didn't get a bite once we'd reached high water, whereupon the laughing rain began and I packed up among squalls. This flounder took on the first cast of the session, and most welcome it was. Happy birthday, me.

Tales from the Flounder King 2

Tuesday, 2 January 2018 at 14:06

Dab Now this, I think, was a (pretty anaemic-looking) dab - which felt rough-skinned when stroked from tail to head, with those pronounced eyes and a bulge in the lateral line just behind the pectoral fin. The last dab I caught was in Ireland (2010), on a bar-spoon intended for sea-trout; the spoon was bigger than the dab.

Tales from the Flounder King 3

Tuesday, 2 January 2018 at 14:04

Whiting This was one of a double-header (of which I had two). The other whiting was bigger...but then I would say that. I don't suppose any of the whiting were more than 27cm but it was good fun.


Tuesday, 2 January 2018 at 09:07

1966 Plus ça change.... I have curiously mixed feelings about turning 60. What is it about that dimension - you might almost say, that property - time, that means it seems to speed up so radically as you get older? If I'd told this young chap about the life he would go on to lead, what would he have said and done? ('Stay here and fish some more,' he would have said - and who's to say he would have been wrong?)

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