The idea was to fish my favourite Bass and Cod wrecks some 20 to 35 miles to the South and East of Weymouth.
I have been like an excited little girl for weeks as I was supposed to be running my charity trip for a couple of the other lads on here and, let's be honest, the weather has been pants. The trip was due to be Sunday gone and it was still blowing 5 touching 7 so we cancelled and are still trying to rearrange.
I still have a day off and whilst my charity winners can't come I arrange to meet up with Terry Hill (Cascars on PBSBAC) and his mate Ray from WSF.
Early forecasts suggested Thursday (today) would be fantastic and yes, I woke this morning to not a single leaf moving in the trees around my flat. So sods law dictates I can only fish on the Wednesday due to work.
Wednesday is looking OK. The south west winds were abaiting overnight from 4 to 5 to a 2 to 3 variable. Lovely me thinks. Enough sea to make you know you are on the water, but nothing to make you cringe.
Yeah right!!!!
A stiff breeze, a good 5, greets all of us at Weymouth marina but the forecast is still promising the wind will drop away so we head off in the general direction of my chosen wrecks. In the Lee of Portland you could be forgiven for thinking that it was going to be, almost, pleasant, but then as we hit Portland Race we can see what the day has install for us.
In a lesser boat (sorry had to say it), it would have been verging on dangerous and in a trailerable it would have been stupid. It was the sort of conditions you only wanted to be in if you were making a living out of it and we were there for fun.
Another 5 miles and I am saying to the guys that this is still the influence of the "race" and it will come down soon.
Again, Yeah Right!!!!
Now the picture doesn't look too rough, until you start to look hard. We could have carried on South to the wrecks if we really wanted, but, like I said, this was supposed to be fun and not a day getting thrown around the deck.
So after dropping into of several "holes" that appeared from nowhere and after a number of true green waves I took this snap shot and at about 13 miles out we spun round and headed back towards the relative shelter of the "Race".
http://www.pbsbac.co.uk/photoalbum/display...e.php?pos=-1042
In the race, which was still very lumpy in the usual places, were a number of charter boats fishing live joeys for Bass. We were a little despondent, but after trying a couple of drifts on Storm Lures and gaining nothing, but losing tackle I set about feathering a few livelies for the guys to use.
An hour or so in and the despondent feeling was beginning to grow to despair. Our hearts weren't truly in it and the wind felt like it may be dropping off so we spun about and headed off again.
It wasn't dropping at all, it mus have been a momentary lull. Another 4 miles pretending to ride a rodeo horse whilst on a mini submarine and we thouhgt we'd go "mini wrecking". I headed for a comfy inshore wreck that throws up the odd Codling. When we got there the tide was belting through. A drift speed of about 5 knots saw us setting up the drift some 1/4 mile uptide and screaming past it before you knew what was going on. We had a couple of possible snatches at the lures, but nothing for sure so I said, how about the nearby Shambles for a Turbot as the tide eased.
It was very strange, the drift speed on the wreck was immense, but just a mile away on the bank we were all but stationery.
Down went the Turbot rigs and we sat and waited.
And we waited.
And we waited.
Ray had a clonking bite and in his surprise (we had all forgotten what a bite was like), he struck and missed whatever it was. I told him I'd seen bites like that before. "Typical of a 20lb+ Turbot", I said. Ray's jaw dropped and he grabbed his rod to see if this monster flattie would return...
As the tide just started to push us in a Westerly direction Terry commented on how Raymondo's line was going a different way to ours. He thought nothing of it and carried on fishing.
Now I don't know if Ray actually got another bite or if he was simpy checking his bait, but he reeled in and whilst his gear looked a little heavier than normal, you wouldn't have expected even a doggie to be hanging off it. As it broke surface you could see an enormous dark shape behind his tube boom and a flash of silver as the big girl (not Ray) suddenly woke up.
After, possibly a further five minutes of really good scrapping she was in the net and I swung into the boat. I was way out on my estimation when Terry and I had first seen in the water. I reckoned about 8lb. Terry was spot on when he said 10 or 11.
On the scales she was bouncing between 10lb 8 and 12lb before finally settling at a tiny fraction under 11lb.
http://www.pbsbac.co.uk/photoalbum/display...e.php?pos=-1044
Well done Ray, another boat PB onboard Quest II.
The day went from being one of longing wishes to be way offshore to jubilance in the space of a few seconds. For Ray anyway.
Terry and I were still fed up, but the mutual mickey taking around the boat kept us all in good spirits until our drift reached the end of the bank and the big standing waves ahead of us started breaking in a mass of white water.
Allegedly, Terry had been given a good mark inside the shelter of Portland Harbour.
Rays, Bass, Smoothound, Gilthead's were all, almost 100% guaranteed.
"Sounds good" I thought. The idea of a little shelter and still some good fishing appealed so we pointed Quest II north and tied up to the to secret buoy that we had been told about just 20 minutes later.
The wind was still whistling past the wheelhouse, but the sea was all but flat and down went the "species rigs" in anticipation.
This is pretty much where the story ends as the secret mark can remain secret.
The Rays only came from the sun.
The Bass were remarkably like a mini species we sometimes catch called Mackerel.
The Smoothound were in abundance, but were actually Roughounds and a sandy colour with brown spots.
The Giltheads, or should I say Gilthead shared the exact markings of a Black Bream of no more than 2oz.
So at about five o'clock we untied from our bouy and headed into Weymouth for my usual ritual abuse from Andy, our local fuel man. A quick clean of the boat and we are off in separtae directions.
A very hard days fishing. Had it not been for Ray's superb Bass it would have been a disasterous day's fishing, but that is why it is called fishing and not catching.
I was desparate to get out after not going for weeks. Terry and Ray were superb company (they both fart an awful lot whcih was the only downside) and are both welcome to come and join me if we do ever actually get offshore.
I am so jealous of the guys today. Not a breath of wind and I am sat typing this instead of hauling in huge wreck Cod with them.
Well done on your boat caught PB Ray, get another today!
Tom
