They're in!

It's that time of year again! When hardcore mackerel bashers dust last year's mackerel scales off of their tackle and head to the sea to pull out five at a time! What better way to spend a glorious summer evening than standing shoulder to shoulder with fellow mackerel bashers and repeatedly flinging feathers as far as you can?

The sun just about poking through the clouds. This is about as close to a glorious summer evening as we've had so far!

Having heard the rumours of their arrival, I decided to pop out for a couple of hours earlier this week, to see they were true, and hopefully catch my first mackerel of the year. Finding a relatively quiet spot, well away from the assembled masses, I opted to throw a 15g metal jig out into the Forth on a fairly light setup. It's much more fun catching them this way, and it didn't take too long to do just that!

They're in!

So, having ticked them off for the year, I don't think I'm going to bother catching any more mackerel. I'm not really a big fan of the mackerel season if I'm honest. I’d much rather be targeting other, more interesting species away from hordes of tinsel tossers! I'll only be targetting them if I need some to use as bait, and with a shark trip in the pipeline, that may mean that I may have to fling some flashy feathers about myself soon enough. Needs must!

Tight lines, Scott.

Putting my heart and sole into it.

Whilst checking the tides and weather conditions recently, I noticed that there was an opportunity to head down to the Solway Firth again for another go at adding a Dover sole to my Scottish species list. Between deciding to go and making the drive down there, I was sent an email by a fellow species hunter asking for my assistance identifying some fish he’d caught during a holiday to Lanzarote. During our conversation, he told me he was one of the anglers that I’d heard had caught a topknot whilst fishing in Greenock. He also told me that a week later, his friend had also caught one there at pretty much exactly the same spot, that by examining their photos they knew it was two different fish, and he also confirmed that I had been fishing in the right area when I had been trying to catch one myself. This was all the encouragement I needed to turn an evening sole session into a full day flatfish mission!

Leaving early, so I could avoid the morning rush and get the right spot before lots of feather flinging mackerel bashers turned up, I arrived in Greenock at about 08:30 and set up two 10ft feeder rods. Dropping small sections of ragworm down into the area where the topknot had been caught had predictable results. Wrasse, after wrasse, after wrasse, after wrasse!

Goldsinny made up the majority of the wrasse I caught.

Corkwing wrasse also chipping in to munch all my bait in rapid fashion!.

I was hopeful that perhaps a topknot would somehow muscle its way past the ravenous wrasse, but after over six hours of fairly frantic, non-stop action, the only other species I had caught was a solitary pollock, and I only caught that because I cast a bait just out past the rocks away from the area that the topknot had been caught from!

This pollock was a reasonable size and put a nice bent in my feeder rod!

By the middle of the afternoon, I had used up fifty percent of my ragworm, and had long since lost count of the number of wrasse I had caught. Admitting defeat and packing up my gear, I got back into my car and made the drive south to begin phase two of "Operation Odd Flatfish". Before starting my evening session, I spent almost two hours digging some blow lug, ensuring that, along with my remaining ragworm, I had enough worms to fish two rods for four hours at least. 

Armed with quality bait and using a baiting needle to improve their presentation would hopefully improve my chances of success!

I began fishing just after halfway into the flooding tide, just after the current begins to ease off. Rather predictably, the first fish that found one of my baits on the muddy bottom was a thornback ray. In my limited experience of fishing there, they are easily the most common fish in the area, or at least the most active feeders!

No surprises really. This was the first of many thornback ray.

It was an overcast night anyway, but as the sun got lower on the horizon, and it began to get a little darker, I was hopeful that any sole in the vicinity might begin feeding too and be drawn to the scent of the juices slowly leaking from my worm baits. The thornback ray kept coming though, interspersed with a few lesser spotted dogfish. 

A nice change from the endless thornback ray.

The action was pretty hectic, with most casts producing a bite, if not a fish. After just over an hour, I’d lost count of the number of thornback ray I’d caught, including a double shot of thornback ray and a double shot of a thornback ray and a bass. Eventually my rod tip rattled and lifting it and winding in I felt something a little lighter that came in relatively easily. Definitely not a thornback ray or a lesser spotted dogfish I thought, but what was it? As it came to the surface I realised that it was a flatfish, when it rolled over flashing a bright white underside. It was also a good size for a flatfish too, but as it came closer I knew it wasn’t a sole due to its rounder shape. It turned out to be a very nice flounder. Normally I’d have been thrilled but given it wasn’t my target species I wasn’t as excited as perhaps I should have been. 

Despite this being a new personal best flounder of 40cm, I was slightly underwhelmed. It was a sole I was desperate to catch!

More thornback ray followed, but as high tide approached, the bites dropped off a bit. By this point it was almost pitch black, such was the amount of cloud cover. After winding in and rebaiting, I cast out both rods again. One at distance and one closer in. I got an aggressive bite on the closer in rod and lifting it and winding in I felt something putting up a decent fight. Again, I thought to myself this definitely doesn't feel like a thornback ray or a lesser spotted dogfish, but also it didn't feel like another flounder either. Shining my headtorch out into the dark, I waited to see what species would appear. I wanted to get the fish in quickly but also didn’t want to pull the hook, so I just wound it in steadily. When the elongated shape of a sole did appear, I felt my heart rate increase dramatically, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous pulling a flatfish up onto a beach in my life, especially when it started wriggling around like crazy! Quickly putting my rod down, I grabbed the fish firmly by its head. I needn't have worried about it escaping, as my super sharp Sakuma Manta hook had done its job and the fish was well hooked. I’d done it! My first Scottish Dover sole! One more step taken towards catching one hundred species in Scotland! 

My first Scottish sole was a reasonable size. They are a very strong flatfish making them tricky to handle but I took it well away from the water's edge before unhooking it and taking some photos.

What a weirdly simple mouth they have, with virtually no articulation.

Popping the fish back, it swam off strongly, disappearing into the murky water with a few thrashes of its long body. I was standing there in disbelief, but absolutely buzzing. Even though it wasn’t my first ever Dover sole, as I've caught one on the south coast of England many years ago, it almost felt like it was! I was pretty tired from a long day, but with worms left to use up and adrenaline still pumping through my body, I fished on for another couple of hours until I had exhausted all of my bait. I didn’t get home until 04:00 and was absolutely shattered the next day. Driving, fishing and digging bait for twenty-two hours straight, I think that’s the longest and most intense solo fishing trip I’ve ever done! Catching one of my target flatfish species meant it was well worth the effort!

Tight lines, Scott.

In the mood for micros.

I’ve been out enjoying a few short freshwater micro fishing sessions over the last few days. I just got the urge to go out and do it, I’m not sure why. Maybe I’ve been fishing in saltwater too much lately! Anyway, fishing locally, it’s been good fun and a relaxing way to spend an hour. The first target species was the humble minnow. I caught a few of them from the Water of Leith, fishing small chunks of maggot on a tanago hook under a pole float.

 Minnow are one of my favourite UK freshwater mini species. 

A few days later, I visited Inverleith Pond. As far as I’m aware, there is only one species of fish present in this small, semicircular body of water in Inverleith Park. I’m not sure if fishing is even permitted, but there are no signs saying it’s not, so until I’m told otherwise I’ll continue to visit it once every few years when I get the urge to! Again, a tiny piece of maggot was fished under a pole float to try and tempt some of the pond’s three spined stickleback. Plenty of interest was registered on my tiny float, but I struggled to connect with most of the bites. I guess the average size was pretty minuscule!

I only managed to catch five three spined stickleback. Still, it was an enjoyable little session. 

After dark the same day, I popped out again. This time armed with my headtorch to go hunt some bullhead in the rocky shallows of the Water of Leith. Catching them is ridiculously easy. Just scan your headtorch over the gaps in the rocks until you spot one on the bottom, and slowly lower a maggot down in front of their face. No need to chop a small piece of maggot off, they have relatively large mouths for a small fish! A little patience is required, because their response isn’t always instantaneous, sometimes they sit motionless ignoring the wriggling bait for a short time. Eventually though, they give in to temptation and lurch forward, greedily guzzling it down. 

Experts at hiding during the day. After dark, no so clever. 

So, micro fishing has added another three species to this year’s tally. I don’t really have a species target in mind for this year. My focus has instead been shifted towards trying to catch new species. This doesn’t mean I don’t still enjoy catching much more familiar species, even the small ones!

Tight lines, Scott.

Three new Scottish species in one day!

I’m off to Norway at the end of August with two of my mates, Nick and Ryan. We met up yesterday down at the outflow area of Torness Power Station to catch up, discuss our upcoming Scandinavian adventure and hopefully catch some mullet on freelined bread flake. Despite there being lots of mullet around it proved to be incredibly frustrating trying to catch them. Even more so than usual! After a couple of hours, a few had been hooked, but most hadn’t stayed hooked for very long, and the few that had, threw the hook at the net. Nick got a dog earlier this year, so he had to head off to take it out for a walk. Ryan and I carried on fishing and eventually a small mullet took his bread, was well hooked, and I netted it for him after a short fight. 

Ryan was over the moon to catch his first Scottish thick lipped mullet.

We fished on for a bit longer, but eventually I admitted defeat, and the two of us headed around to the inlet area to fish for a few more hours. There we fished small pieces of ragworm, black lug and prawns to see what mini species we could catch. The bites came sporadically, but when they did come, we were steadily racking up a few different species.

I’ve caught a few goldsinny wrasse down at Torness Power Station now. They seem to be fairly localised in only a few specific spots.

I’ve caught way more than my fair share of butterfish lately, and added another to my tally, this being number eight!

We both also caught a few leopard spotted goby.

After a short quiet period, Ryan hooked a fish, and as he wound it up I looked down from our elevated position to see what it was? As it reached the surface, I could see that it was a Yarrell’s blenny. I knew this was a species that Ryan really wanted to catch, so I told him to lift it up from the water and over the fence in front of us quickly, without actually telling him what it was. Luckily, the fish was well hooked and made it up onto the platform. Ryan was ecstatic when he saw what he’d caught!

Ryan was thrilled to catch his first Yarrell's blenny.

Ever since he witnessed me catch one last year, Yarrell's blenny has been top of his mini species wish list!

Before we left, we decided to clamber down the defence boulders to have a few casts with metal jigs to see if there were any mackerel around. This turned out to be a waste of time. 

I search the deep inlet channel with a 10g metal jig. 

There may have been no mackerel around, but Ryan did catch a greater sandeel just before we left. This was his third new species of the day, but didn’t seem to excite him quite the same way as the first two had. He didn’t even bother taking a photo of it, instead just quickly unhooking it and throwing it back. All in all an enjoyable session, and it was great to see someone else getting a new species adrenaline rush a couple of times! 

Tight lines, Scott.

In the zone.

I popped down to Newhaven Harbour again this afternoon. I’m quite enjoying fishing there at the moment, three visits in four days is testament to that! Whilst the quantity of fish caught isn’t anything spectacular, it’s been pretty reliable in terms of the species present. The weather wasn’t great today, and it did rain again, but it was fairly light and only lasted about half an hour. 

Dull, with rain on the horizon. 

Employing the same simple tactics as my first two sessions, dropping small pieces of ragworm straight down the side of the wall, I winkled out two of the less frequently caught mini species I’ve been repeatedly catching there already.

My fourth viviparous blenny in as many days,..

…and my seventh butterfish in the last six days!

All three visits have produced both butterfish and viviparous blenny. Clearly, there are small, healthy populations of both of these interesting mini species present. It may sound like catching them is easy, but they’re actually fairly localised within a short section of the wall. Fishing outside this relatively small area or not close enough to the vertical surface, and you wouldn’t know either species were there because it’s highly unlikely you would catch either of them. As a species hunter, I find it very satisfying figuring these things out and then being able to target and catch specific species consistently.

Tight lines, Scott.

So glad I went fishing.

Some days you go fishing when the conditions are less than ideal. Yesterday was one of those days. Overcast, rain forecast, and an onshore wind. Not great and a continuation of the poor summer we’ve had this year. Despite this weather, I drove down to St Abbs to use up some ragworm I had left over from my sessions at Newhaven Harbour the two previous days. As I expected, the sea was quite rough, so I focused my efforts initially inside the harbour, dropping fairly generous sections of ragworm down tight against the inside of its walls. 

Outside the harbour, the slowly undulating sea was breaking violently over the rocks.

This approach proved too tempting for the long spined sea scorpion hiding out on the vertical surfaces. Moving along and trying different spots, I soon caught about a dozen of the aggressive little ambush predators. One of them was a bit of an old warrior. It looked pretty beat up, and its spines were curled round at the tips. I’ve never seen one like that before.

This long spined sea scorpion had ragged, misshapen fins and its spines were blunt. Its right one noticeably curled right round at the tip.

Having covered a good portion of the harbour’s walls, I moved around to the harbour’s mouth where I was hoping to catch a flounder, but didn’t have any joy. The sandy area where they normally hang out was covered by loose sea weed that had been washed in by the swell. Turning my attention to the fringes of the kelp beds at the right hand side of the harbour’s entrance, I caught about half a dozen corkwing wrasse. All males, one of them had some very colourful markings.

The vivid colours on this corkwing wrasse were lovely, particularly the blues and greens on its fins.

At this point, I noticed that the weed covering the sandy area had been partially washed away from it, so I had a few more casts onto it to see if any flounder were lurking there. After a working my rig slowly across the sand back towards me a few times, a nice coalfish took my ragworm as I recast, and my rig dropped through the water column.

A nice chunky coalfish that put a bit of a bend into my ultra light rod as it tried to get into the kelp.

Things went quiet for a while and as the tide picked up a fair amount of suspended weed appeared, so I took the decision to head up the A1 to continue fishing at the inlet area of Torness Power Station, a spot I knew would afford some shelter from the northerly wind and accompanying swell. Walking back up the hill to where I had parked the car, I noticed a sticker on a rubbish bin and, curious about what it said, stopped to read it to find out.

Having recently taken the decision to quit my own job, I’m not working at the moment. I can relate to some aspects of the message conveyed in this sticker. I’m taking some time off to carefully consider what I want to do for a living going forward.

Arriving at my chosen spot, that produced lots of butterfish and leopard spotted goby during a visit last week, I soon caught a few tiny cod and a couple of small corkwing wrasse. The water was a little coloured up however, bites came intermittently, and I was struggling to connect with some of them. When I finally hooked another fish, it was a fairly large leopard spotted goby. I had my little photo tank with me and popped the fish into it for a photo.

All the details of the leopard spotted goby shown in their full glory.  The mini species tank really is a great thing for examining a fish's features fully!

After catching a few tiny coalfish and cod, the bites dried up almost completely. Persevering through a fairly long period with nothing showing any interest in my ragworm, I then had a very subtle knock that I slowly lifted into. Feeling the weight of a fish that wasn’t fighting particularly hard, I slowly wound it up in case it was something odd. When it appeared on the surface I initially thought it was a butterfish due to its brown and pink colouration, but as I lifted it up, and it got closer, I realised that it was in fact a Yarrell’s blenny!

One of my favourite UK blenny species! Its coolest features were laying limply on its forehead though. Time to put my photo tank to use again!

The fish just fit inside, but its impressive bushy eyebrows were on display in all their funky glory!

Many years ago, my mate Nick caught a Yarrell's blenny, not too far from where I caught this one, so I always hoped there was a potential resident population. I have over the years tried numerous times to catch one there myself and had kind of given up, so I was over the moon to finally get one at this venue. Shortly afterwards, I used up the last of my ragworm and called an end to a most enjoyable day’s fishing, during which I had been rewarded with some odd, colourful and interesting species. The Yarrell’s blenny in particular being a real highlight. They’re such a strange looking fish!

Being honest, I was pretty close to not going fishing at all due to the poor conditions. It just goes to show that sometimes you never know how a fishing trip will turn out. Even when the weather is poor, the fishing might not be!

Tight lines, Scott.

...but didn't stay long.

Well, rather predictably, the nice weather we had on Friday didn’t last long. There was no sign of the sun at all yesterday, it was grey and rained several times throughout the day. At least it wasn’t windy, that’s something I suppose. Despite these slightly miserable conditions, in the evening I met up with a couple of mates at Newhaven Harbour to target mini species. 

An overcast and soon to be wet Newhaven Harbour. 

Scratching around with little pieces of ragworm on small hooks, things were quite slow, but eventually a few fish were caught, including my fifth butterfish of the week! After a while I caught my second viviparous blenny in as many days as well.

Butterfish are very slippery customers. 

Also known as eelpout, viviparous blenny are tricky to handle too. Wriggling and writhing around when you try to hold them, making unhooking them tricky at times. A wet towel comes in handy. 

About an hour after meeting up it started to rain again. Lovely. After catching a lot of micro whiting and a small long spined sea scorpion, I then caught the only two wrasse of the session. Normally by this time of year there are quite a few wrasse around but they still seem to be a lot thinner on the ground than they usually are. 

First up was this goldsinny wrasse.

Followed shortly afterwards by this small ballan wrasse. 

After about three hours, it was still raining, we were all pretty wet, and the bites had pretty much dried up, so we decided to end the session. The arrival of some feather throwing mackerel bashers making this decision a little easier!

Tight lines, Scott.

Summer has arrived…

Getting up this morning and looking out of the window I was puzzled by the weather. There was very little wind and the sun was out. Excited by this rare occurrence I decided to visit a couple of local spots today armed with a few ragworm. First up was Newhaven Harbour.

Blue skies? Calm conditions? Oh my god!

Not sure how long the freak weather would last, I decided just to fish the last two hours of the ebbing tide at the mouth of the harbour, dropping small pieces of ragworm tight down the sides of the walls. Things were pretty slow, but eventually a few fish started having a go at my bait and I caught some cool mini species. 

Ragworm. Yummy!

My first viviparous blenny of the year. 

My fourth butterfish this week! This one did a spot of breakdancing as I tried to get a hold of it to remove the hook. 

Eventually it tired itself out!

As low water arrived, the bites dried up so I decided to head to the exposed boulders opposite the entrance to Leith Docks. Not much to report from there apart from a few tiny whiting. I tied on a 7g metal jig and had a few casts with that to see if there were any mackerel around, but if they were around they weren’t impressed by my efforts! 

Probably the smallest whiting I’ve ever caught!

Before leaving, I dropped my ragworm section down into some holes in the boulders I was standing on. This surprisingly didn’t produce any fish. Something did grab my bait though, and it felt quite strong, violently pulling my rod tip down a few times. Initially I thought it was a small cod or a wrasse thumping away, but it turned out to be a tiny lobster, using its tail to try and make its escape. 

Lobster are such strange creatures. Their bulky, powerful claws look ridiculous when compared to their thin, spindly legs. 

Their colours are amazing too. 

I persisted for a while, but with no fish biting I called it a day and headed home. A short, fun session and for some reason my head has gone a little bit red. I’ll be heading out again to Newhaven Harbour tomorrow evening to fish the last few hours of the flooding tide. I wonder if it’ll still be summer? Who knows, I might have to put some factor on!

Tight lines, Scott.

More sole searching.

On Monday I spent a couple of hours digging some lugworm. It’s been a few years since I’ve done so, and doing it again was a reminder of why I hadn’t dug any for so long! It’s not an easy task! Especially if you're not as young and fit as you used to be!

After two hours of digging I was fed up looking at these!

My efforts produced over sixty worms and wrapped in newspaper in my bait bag, I drove down to Dumfries & Galloway again on Wednesday to use them in another attempt at catching a Dover sole. I arrived early, so rather than head straight to the spot I planned to fish, I took the opportunity to head further south to take look at a second stretch of the coast for future trips. Walking along the shoreline I eventually arrived at a strange arch in the rocks at the top of the beach. 

This quite odd feature went right through the limestone rocks. It probably started as a crack and water and time have opened it up into an arch. 

Having got an idea about where I would fish should I return to that part of the estuary, I jumped back into the car and made the short drive north, unloaded my tackle and was soon setup and fishing on the rocky shore. It didn’t take too long for fish to locate the scent trail coming from my juicy worms and after missing a couple of bites, a small thornback ray was hooked, landed, unhooked and returned to the murky water. 

A promising start. 

I love watching them as they slowly beat their wings and gracefully glide off. 

In the hours that followed the tide came in and I repeatedly moved up the beach. The action was pretty steady, with perhaps fifty percent of my casts seeing my rod tip rattle eventually when a fish found my flapper rig. Thornback ray was the only species I caught until a nice bass picked up a lugworm and charged off, hooking itself against my 6oz grip lead and almost pulling my rod and tripod over. 

Spiky. A welcome change from thorny. 

As high tide came and went there was a lull in the action and I was expecting weed to become a problem, but it didn’t, so I carried on fishing until my lugworm were all used up. Once the tide began to ebb I caught a couple more thornback ray and lost a starry smoothhound a few metres from the shore when it thrashed violently and bent out my #6 Sakuma Manta hook. Having cast out my final three lugworm I hooked something that was a lot smaller. Was it the Dover sole I was hoping for? Winding it in carefully, so as not to pull the hook, a flatfish came to the surface and I was briefly excited, but as it got closer I realised that it was just a dab. 

The last and smallest thornback ray of the session. 

Not the flatfish I was hoping to catch!

So, another sole pun has been used up. Fingers crossed I manage to actually catch one before I run out of awful puns to use in my post titles! I’ll be heading back down to Dumfries & Galloway soon to try again, although next time I might try my luck at a different venue. 

Tight lines, Scott.