The Traditional Fisherman's Forum

In the earlie Eighties I seriously got to grips with Sea Fishing. I had tried on other occasions, particularly my early Twenties, but for one reason or another the success I craved eluded me. A more mature head and a deeper analytical approach coupled with a few well connected friendships brought about an upturn in my fortunes. Happily this coincided with some of the best Cod fishing the Bristol Channel had offered for a long time. My Summer Bass fishing revolved mainly around low water peeler crab fishi nag around the tidal islands of the Mumbles, the Gateway to the Gower. I was out there one day surveying the expanse of mixed ground interspersed with beds of Kelp and I thought surely there must be Cod here in the winter? That Winter I struck Gold with some excellent catches when conditions were right, low water on a Spring tide was best just as with the Bass in the Summer. The low water extremity of the further most island uncovered the last thirty yards of an occasionally active sewage outfall. The pipe was encased in a flat pier like concrete structure about twelve foot wide giving a comfortable fishing station an hour each side of low water. This is where the frightening incident took place. I was out there one cold February night well after Midnight, my old mongrel Ben for company. A three pound codling in the bag and light snow fluttering down on to a tranquil sea. A tremendous splash occurred at the end of the pipe just feet from where I stood and next thing a huge Seal landed on the pipe! I don't know which of us was most shocked but Ben was the first to react. A fearless character, part Staffie, he lunged at the Seal which jumped back in as suddenly as it had arrived! It took me quite some time for my heart rate to settle down and needless to say I didn't catch anymore Codling either.

Nice to read some good sea angling tales on here Catfish
Selkies can certainly scare the bejayzus out of you! I did a bit of kayak fishing up in Orkney a few summers ago and I'm sure they cottoned on to the colour of my hull and would play games of 'scare that land liver to death'. They took several hooked pollock too but I didn't mind

My sea fishing experiences are very small but sea shore / marshes can be lonely places when the light fades, the mist comes down. Not fishing related but the M R James ghost story ‘whistle and a I’ll come to you’ which features the lead character being pursued ( or imagining he is ) along a Suffolk beach by a sprit he has inadvertently released whilst poking about in a hole is a very spooky watch the film version, you can see it on YouTube

Not one to believe in spooks , but one winter night right on the end of Spurn Point almost changed my mind, 2.00 am ish, very cold and low water, I was by myself, brolly up and Tilley lamp giving out some heat to warm up the inside of the brolly, rods out, suddenly had a real banging bite and reeled in a cod about four pounds, knocked it on the head and put it behind my box under the brolly, ten mins later having baited up and cast in ,a second bite, fish on , wound in , similar size, unhooked and knocked on the head, went to put it with the first fish, which had gone !!
Vanished !!
Looked around , nowhere to be seen , the point and beach were deserted except for me, very puzzled , sat down, another bite, got up and went to rod, missed it, wound in to re bait, turned in time to see one of the Spurn Head Foxes slinking off with Cod number 2 .

After that I learned to put the catch into the box .

Spurn point is/ was a very isolated place sometimes you would get mist drifting over the Humber estuary, noises carried there for miles . Occasionally you could hear the voices of the passengers on the ferries when they passed , hear the foxes barking and yelping, owls, and other strange noises that I could never put a name to .
Not so sure about now, but 30 years ago it was all worth it to fish four hours over low water , the only time the tide was slack enough to fish without getting dragged into the rocks .

OMR

Yep those Foxes get everywhere. One tried to drag my bag away on the storm beach in front of Port Talbot Steelworks.