Not easily triggered.

Loads of anglers have been a great help to me over the years. I always try and help others when I can as it's always good to give something back to the community. It's also nice when someone tells me that they enjoy reading my fishing related ramblings and if it's helped them get more out of their own fishing then that's even more satisfying. Welsh angler Ben Price is an acomplished match angler and specimen hunter who turned his attention to species hunting a few years ago. Finding this blog and getting in touch with me, he used the information found here and some advise I gave him to make the most of several trip up to Scotland to add to his Angling Trust Species Hunt tally, winning it two years in a row. 

We've kept in touch over the last few years and he recently invited me down to Pembrokshire in Wales to have a go for a couple of species that I've never caught before in the UK. The primary target was a grey triggerfish, but arriving in the evening we headed out to a local beach where we were hoping to catch a sand sole.

To save me taking loads of tackle with me Ben very kindly loaned me some of his.

As the tide flooded, we retreated back up the exposed sand, but things were very slow to begin with. As it got dark, our rod tips eventually registered some interest in our ragworm and mackerel strip baits. Winding in, I felt a little bit of weight and a double shot appeared in the wash. It was a small turbot and a sole, but which species?

Spot the turbot. My first of 2026.

The first sole of the night wouldn't be the last, but sadly they were all Dover sole. Also my first of 2026.

Between us, we had about half a dozen small Dover sole, all in a fairly short period of time. After that, we began to catch a few juvenile bass and strap conger eel. The bass were not a surprise, but I was quite shocked to catch so many conger eels from such a clean sandy beach!

My first bass of the year too. We caught a few!

We caught loads of these little conger eels. They were a bit of a pain to be honest, making a mess of our rigs, but they were another addition to my 2026 tally, so I was happy to tick off yet another species!

After a while, the action dried up and it was pretty late, so we headed back to Ben's house for something to eat before headed off to bed. The following day, we visited another sandy beach in the morning, hoping again to catch a sand sole, but after a coupe of hours, all we'd caught were a few tiny bass, so we decided to move to a totally different venue. Heading to the mouth of Milford Marina, we spent an hour or so targeting mini species on ultra light tackle. In amongst a few species of wrasse, ballan, corkwing and goldsinny, I caught a few tompot blenny and a solitary pouting.

I love catching tompot blenny and this one was my first of the year.

Pouting I'm not so fond of, but again it was my first of the year, so I was pleased to catch this one!

Next, we headed to a mark further up the estuary to spend a few hours in the evening targeting gilthead seabream. After a bit of a hike, we ended up on a small rocky shell covered outcrop and the target species were most obliging. We were fishing with relatively heavy tackle as there was the chance of large specimens, but most of the fish were quite small. It was still a lot of fun and the action was pretty consistent too. We had several dozen fish between the two of us, with Ben managing to catch a couple of larger fish.

You've probably guessed? My first gilthead seabream of the year!

After catching a few on ledgered ragworm, I switched to loading up my hook with fresh whelk. The gilthead loved it!

As did this small ballan wrasse!

Ben with one of the bigger gilthead seabream he caught.

With a very early start the following day, we had a fairly early night and at 4:00 our alarms went off. Meeting up with Ben's dad near Mumbles Pier at 6:00, we got our small inflatable boat set up and got under way. Mumbles Pier is a well known grey triggerfish spot, but has been closed to the public for a couple of years due to structural safety concerns, and this means its two fishing platforms are inaccessible.

Ben borrowed this small inflatable boat and an electric engine from his uncle. Perfect for getting out to the structure under the pier.

We had high expectations, but sadly it wasn't to be. Shortly after we got out to the legs of the pier a spear fisherman arrived, and after going down a couple of times, popped up and told us there were no grey triggerfish present, only juvenile bass and mullet. We stuck it out for a few hours, trying different spot around the base of the pier, but in the end we had to accept that you can't catch what isn't there, and headed back to the slipway.

My second visit to Mumbles Pier in a few years produced the same result sadly. No grey triggerfish.

After returning the boat to Ben's dad, we headed to Rhosilli, where I spent and hour or so wandering around the meadows on the headland looking for a clouded yellow butterfly while Ben did some work on his laptop and chilled out. I'm sure I did see one, but it was pretty hot and it whizzed past at a rapid pace, so I couldn't get a good look at it let alone a photo.

In the evening, we drove north to a deep water rock mark for another go at catching a grey triggerfish. When we arrived, we had a quick stroll along the coastal path to a spot where a couple of clouded yellow butterfly had been spotted the previous day. After a while, I eventually spotted one fluttering past and much to my delight it landed on a flower to feed allowing me to sneak up on it and get a photo.

The clouded yellow was the first UK butterfly species I'd seen for the first time in Wales!

Heading back to the car park, and then west along the clifftop coastal path, Ben and I soon arrived on a comfortable flat platform, set up our rods and began fishing. Sadly, not much was biting further out in the deeper water. Ben had a couple of nibbles, but didn't connect with the culprits. Slightly frustrated with the way the day had gone, and determined not to end the day fishless, I dropped down the side into a weed lined gully and pulled out a ballan wrasse.

Ben holding his rod, waiting paitently for a bite.

A welcome ballan wrasse. Not my first of the year, but it was first and last fish of the day! We called it a day shortly afterwards.

So, I had a great time fishing with Ben, and despite putting an incredible amount of effort into organising the fishing during my trip, I sadly didn't catch a sand sole or a grey triggerfish. I did add a few species to my 2026 tally however and it was great fishing with Ben in a beautiful part of the country. A couple of days ago, Ben caught his first ever a sand sole, so I may have to head down there again to try for one myself. I'll be meeting up with Ben down in Cornwall at the start of September for another go at grey triggerfish. We've got spaces booked on a charter boat out of Newquay that targets them. I'll also be trying for a few other additions to my UK saltwater tally when I'm down there.

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.

Species hunting road trip: Cornwall calling.

After three nights in Dorset it was time to head west to Cornwall. Before leaving Weymouth I popped down to the Weymouth Angling Centre to pick up some fresh ragworm and then headed around to the marina nearby to try and catch a gilthead seabream, a thin lipped mullet and a common goby. The first target on my list was quickly caught. A whole small ragworm fished on the bottom on a running ledger saw me land two juveniles almost straight away. 

A nice little gilthead seabream. Another species added to my 2023 tally. 

There were plenty of thin lipped mullet swimming around so I rigged up a small spinner, removed the treble hook, replaced it with a small hook and baited it with a tail section of ragworm. Casting one of these around and slowly retrieving it usually attracts the mullet who then nip away at the worm section, but for some reason they just weren’t interested at all, and after an hour or so I gave up and headed to another spot nearby to try and catch a common goby. A split shot rig dropped down the wall with a tango hook baited with a pinkie produced two fish in two casts. The first was a tiny bass, the second my intended target. 

A little short of the minimum landing size!

Pinkie proving yet again to be a fantastic bait for saltwater mini species, including this common goby. 

Fairly happy with the start to the day, I visited Portland Marina for one last attempt at finding a black faced blenny. Upon arrival, I was confronted with several “No Fishing” signs, it was pretty windy, and taking a walk along the rocks I didn’t spot my target, so I decided just to head back to the car and continue my journey west. 

Spoilsports!

My next stop was Wembury in Devon, famous for its large rockpools. I have fished there before, many years ago, and was told recently that on a big sprig tide it was a good spot to try and catch Montagu’s blenny and also perhaps a clingfish. I arrived about an hour before low water, carefully made my way all the way down the exposed rocks and began my search. 

Wembury, a rockpooling angler’s Mecca. 

Tanago hook baited with a tiny pinkie was my weapon of choice. 

Due to the wind and overcast sky, I found it difficult to see any fish in some of the rockpools, so I speculatively dropped my rig in gaps in the submerged rocks and in front of cracks in the walls of the rockpools. This was fairly productive, and I was soon catching plenty of common blenny and the odd rock goby. Then I got a bite in a dark gap between three flat rocks and hooked the culprit. Lifting the small fish up and swinging it to hand, I could not believe my eyes when I realized it was a small clingfish!

A small cornish sucker, my second new species of the trip! The one I caught was very dark in colour, but you can just make out two dark spots on its head behind its eyes, a key distinguishing feature of the species.

I was over the moon with this capture, as I really didn't expect to catch one. I continued to fish for a while, exploring as many of the rockpools and likely looking fish holding spots as I could, but all I caught were more common blenny, rock goby and long spined sea scorpion. After a while, I decided to head back up to the car and hit the road again. My next stop was the small coastal village of Charlestown on the south coast of Cornwall. It was raining when I arrived, but a group of local anglers had braved the weather and were fishing together at the end of the outer breakwater. 

A few locals were out, suitably dressed for fishing in the rain.  

My target species at the mouth of Charlestown Harbour was a lesser weever. Small sections of ragworm were presented off the bottom and bites came every cast almost. After catching a couple of sand smelt, I caught a couple of lesser weever which were treated with great respect to avoid a potentially very painful sting.

Sand smelt. A few of these fried in flour make for a tasty meal. 

Lesser weever are venomous, so I carefully unhooked them using my forceps. They have a nasty reputation, but I actually think they're quite a pretty little fish. 

Having caught what I came for, I jumped in the car again and headed to Fowey to try and catch a topknot. They are a nocturnal feeder, so as I waited for darkness I fished over some rocky ground and caught a few small wrasse. 

Corkwing on a rainy day. 

The spot I intended to fish required a bit of dodgy climbing and as it got darker the rain got heavier, so I decided against fishing there. It had been a long day, I felt quite tired, and I didn't want to risk a fall in the dark in wet conditions whilst on my own. I was very happy with how my fishing had gone and didn't want to ruin it by having an accident! Another four species had been added to my 2023 tally and of course I was delighted to catch my first ever cornish sucker! Checking the forecast for the next two days when I arrived at my accommodation, it didn’t look very nice. I sent Adam a message to let him know. With weather warnings in place, my plans for the next two days in Cornwall were looking like they could be severely disrupted, and our plan to meet up again was also possibly in jeopardy. 

Tight lines, Scott.

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Fishing. Like a boss.

On Monday I headed west to the old crusher pier situated to the south of Creetown with my mate Ian. He’s an accomplished shore angler who fishes matches regularly. He also happens to be my boss, being the retail manager of the Edinburgh Angling Centre, where I work. Our main target species for the trip was starry smoothhound, a species I've never caught from the shore before, but I was also hopeful that I’d get a common eel too. Ian assured me I’d probably get one of those fairly quickly and he was right! A three hook flapper baited with small crab baits soon did the trick. 

I got a small common eel on my third cast!

Rig wrecking slippery swines. I’m not a fan if I’m honest.

I then turned my attention to fishing a big crab bait on a pulley rig at distance for starry smoothhound. Ian also cast out a pulley rig to target them as well, but he decided to also fish a three hook flapper on a second rod closer in with much smaller baits, to try and catch flounder, possibly bass and no doubt more eels.

Ian brought some top quality fresh peeler crab for us to use.

After watching our rod tips for thirty minutes or so we wound in to change our baits. There was a fair amount of weed in the water, but I got my rig in fairly quickly, Ian’s rig however had picked up a substantial amount of it, and he struggled to get it in. Eventually, once he'd dragged a huge mass of weed in to the side of the pier, he lifted it up by hand. As soon as he began removing the weed however he got a bit of a shock in the shape of a bass!

This silver surprise was hidden under a large amount of weed!

Over the next few hours, Ian caught a few flounder and eel on his second rod and spent a fair amount of time removing weed from his rig! I stuck with fishing just the one rod and sat watching it diligently, waiting for something bigger to hopefully take my pungent bait.

Ian winds in more weed. Occasionally there would be a flounder or an eel too!

A horrible messy tangle of eel and weed.

Just after the tide turned and began to ebb, Ian got a cracking bite on his big bait rod and wound in the first starry smoothhound of the trip. He had predicted their arrival at this stage of the tide and with some moving through the area I was hopeful I'd get one too before too long.

Ian showing me who's boss!

About an hour later, Ian caught his second starry smoothound of the session. We fished on for another two hours or so, but as the tidal flow increased it became very difficult to hold the bottom and I admitted defeat, probably a while after I should have. Ian had caught a lot of fish, species hunting like a boss too, catching all four that the mark usually produces. The solitary common eel I'd caught at the start of our session meant it wasn't a complete blank for me, and I'd added another species to this year's tally so that was something positive at least. On the way back we discussed the fact that spent more time driving than we spent fishing. Crazy really, but if I’d have caught a starry smoothhound I guess I wouldn’t have minded! If I return to the area I think I’d probably stay overnight and have a couple of sessions at the old crusher pier and perhaps head round to the Isle of Whithorn to fish over low water to try and catch a tompot blenny. 

Tight lines, Scott.

I'll be back!

Well, I said earlier in the year I'd be back down to the outflow of Torness Power Station, and earlier this month I did return with my mate Ryan. Having caught some golden grey mullet during one of my previous visits, I still had a few other species to tick off for this year's species hunting challenge that can be caught there. Corkwing wrasse was not one of them, but I caught four from the sea defence boulders next to the outflow, which was quite unusual.  I also spotted a leopard spotted goby, but it was being pretty skittish, and I could not tempt it. The corkwing wrasse were followed by a few common blenny.

An unexpected bonus. This the largest and most colourful.

To be expected. Ryan and I caught lots of them whilst we waited on the tide to come in.

Once the tide came in a bit, we turned our attention to targeting mullet using bread on float and freelining tactics. I was hoping to catch a thick lipped mullet and Ryan and I both hooked one each, only for both of them to throw the hook right at the net. Next to take my bread flake was a golden grey mullet, and then we both caught a bass each. Ryan's bass, which was his first, took his bread from under a float, whilst mine took a whole ragworm freelined.

Ryan was over the moon to catch his first ever bass!

I was just happy to add another species to my 2023 tally.

We carried on fishing and both of us hooked and lost a few more mullet in what turned out to be a frustrating day's fishing. Seven hooked and only one landed, I think. For me, landing half of the mullet I hook is about average, so our luck had deserted us somewhat. To further frustrate us we saw so many mullet swimming in the outflow, perhaps the most I've ever seen there, so really we should probably have hooked more than seven. Anyway, we eventually ran out of bread, so we headed home, popping briefly into Dunbar harbour on the way. It was very quiet there, I caught the only fish, a small cod.

I would have preferred to catch a flounder, but there will be plenty of opportunity to catch one of those later in the year.

The following day, I returned again on my own. The Easterly wind that has been blowing the day before, had doubled in strength and I thought the accompanying increased swell might make things tricky, but the sun was out and I went anyway. I was glad I did as it turned into a productive day. With little expectation, I enjoyed a relaxing session, flicking bread flake out into the current all day and waiting for bites. They were harder to spot with the increased surface movement, but there were a few fish around again and after hooking and losing two golden grey mullet, I landed the third.

Not the mullet I was after, and they were stripping all the bread off my hook.

After a while, I hooked a thick lipped mullet, but it threw the hook after thrashing about in the current for thirty seconds or so. A short while later, I hooked another bigger fish that was too big to be a golden grey mullet, but when it started swimming directly towards me, I knew it wasn't a thick lipped mullet either.

This bread munching bass didn't want to show off its spiky dorsal fin.

Here it is.

A couple of hours passed, and I was down to my last slice of bread, when my rod tip was aggressively pulled round. This time I knew it was a thick lipped mullet. After a few minutes, I managed to play it out and drew it along the surface into my waiting net. It was a decent size and was great fun on my trusty HTO Rock Rover.

Probably the biggest thick lipped mullet I've caught at the outflow.

Probably the thickest top lip I've ever seen on a thick lipped mullet!

Mission accomplished! My bread ran out shortly afterward, so I packed up and left, popping into Dunbar Harbour on the way home again to see if I could tempt a flounder using the last of my ragworm. The water was crystal clear and very flat too and despite slowly twitching my bait along the bottom at a few different spots, I didn't catch anything. I had a stroll around before I left and did find one interesting fish. 

Small fish are bycatch in the local prawn boat's nets, and rather than waste them, they leave them so that fisherman using lobster pots can use them inside their traps for bait. In amongst a fish box of pin whiting, small dab and flounder, a long thin flat fish caught my eye, so I picked it out to have a closer look at it. It was a long rough dab, also known as the American plaice.

Dunbar is a very busy working harbour.

This is a partially decomposed juvenile long rough dab. I wonder how far offshore the prawn boats go? Maybe I could get out to their fishing grounds?

So an enjoyable and productive couple of sessions with a few more species ticked off in this year's species hunt. In the past I probably wouldn't even have bothered going down to Torness Power Station when easterly winds were blowing right up its outflow, but I might have to rethink that in future as there were plenty of fish around. I don't think the fishing elsewhere on the East Coast is quite there yet, the water temperatures need to rise a few more degrees first. I did also see what I suspect were shoals of sand smelt too whilst Ryan and I were there, so I'll be back down to Torness Power Station yet again soon no doubt!

Tight lines, Scott.