Black and gold.

I visited the west coast last month to see if could get myself onto the pontoons in a large marina. Inspired by a series of Instagram posts from Scandinavia and the east coast of the US, I wanted to see if I could see any juvenile lumpsucker lurking close to the weed growing around the edge of the floating platforms and their ropes and chains. Upon arrival, it soon became obvious that all access was controlled via a single keycard operated security gate, and there were lots of boat owners around, so I ended up aborting my reconnaissance mission before it had even got underway! I decided instead to fish around the edge of the marina for a while. Perhaps in the weed around that I might spot something unusual? The water was crystal clear, but I couldn’t see any fish at all in close and casting out onto the marina’s silty bottom, it quickly became apparent that one species in particular was totally dominant.

After catching one black goby after another for about an hour, I decided it was time for a total change of scenery and target. 

A fairly short drive later, I was soon trying to spot a completely different species. Whilst there was absolutely no possibility of seeing a lumpsucker, there were also no access difficulties either, despite the small body of water being in front of a public building. The long, narrow pond in Greenock I was standing in front of contains goldfish. No doubt one time family pets that had been irresponsibly released. Walking along the edge of it, I soon spotted one slowly working its way through the weeds in the pond. As it reached some lily pads, I lowered a small piece of bread through a gap in them into its path and, after a brief pause, it turned towards it, swam forward and lazily gobbled it up. If only finding and catching a lumpsucker was so straightforward!

Only my second every goldfish from a Scottish venue. 

Popping the fish back, I carried on working my way along the side of the pond, looking for another colourful fish to catch. The weed was pretty dense, but eventually I spotted a second, much bigger goldfish methodically nudging it’s way through it. This one didn’t show any interest in my baked bait, so I decided to try something completely different, an isome worm. Somewhat to my surprise, the fish aggressively attacked the heavily scented lure straight away, darting over and inhaling the entire thing in one go. Striking quickly to set the hook before the fish could reject and eject my artificial worm, I quickly pulled it up through the vegetation and lifted the fish out onto the grass by the side of the pond. 

About the size of my hand, I believe this rather plump goldfish is an example of the shubunkin variety, due to its scattering of beautiful pearlescent scales.

Popping the fish back, I decided to call it a day. I was reasonably confident I’d just caught the nicest looking goldfish in the pond, and besides, people passing by asking me what I was fishing for had become mildly irritating. The photo I took of the first goldfish I caught in Scotland a few years ago wasn’t the best, so I was happy to get some better ones. As far as locating lumpsucker goes, I might need to rethink my marina fishing plans. I’ll either need to seek permission, sneak in behind someone or find a different marina that has less or no accessibility restrictions. With more horrible weather on the way at the end of this week, I might also have left this project a little too late in the year and might have to revisit it next summer instead.

Tight lines, Scott.