I got more than what I came for.

Over the years, I've met quite a lot of other species hunting anglers, and many of them have helped me out enormously. As a result my fishing knowledge has improved greatly and my success as a species hunter too. I now try my best to give back to this branch of fishing whenever I can. Knowing that I'm still keen to add more species to my Scottish and UK life lists, fellow Scottish and UK species hunters often get in touch when they hear about anything unusual being caught or even seen. This is exactly what happened on Monday evening, when I received a screengrab from a Facebook group chat discussing the recent sighting of some lumpsucker in Hartlepool Marina. Checking the weather forecast, it looked very good, so I found myself some cheap accommodation, booked it for two nights and drove down there the following morning. Arriving early in the afternoon, I had a look around and paid a quick visit to the bronze statue of the infamous Hartlepool Monkey to make a wish.

Hartlepool Marina on a pleasant March afternoon.

You can probably guess what wish I made!

Returning to the area where I had been told the lumpsucker had been spotted, I set up two rods and fished fairly long three hook flapper rigs straight down the side of the Marina wall. With my hooklengths spread out at different depths I was hopeful that should my target swim past it would find one of my six raw prawn chunks! The water in the marina had a bit of a green tinge to it and I wondered if the nice weather had caused an algae bloom. Things were very slow for the first couple of hours, and I was beginning to think the trip might turn out to be a waste of time, when some interest was registered on one of my rods. Picking it up I felt a couple of very subtle knocks and lifting the rod I was pleasantly surprised to feel the weight of a good fish. It turned out to be a nice plaice that had taken my bottom bait. Not too long afterwards, this scenario played out again almost exactly, and with the aid of my extendable net, a second much bigger plaice was landed!

At 47.5cm this is the biggest plaice I've ever caught from the shore!

Over the next few hours my rods sat pretty much motionless. I was hopeful that darkness would bring some action, but things didn't really improve much. Occasionally, I was getting strange little indications, so I wound up one of my rigs and swapped out the hooklengths for some coarse fishing #26 hooks to nylon. Baiting them with miniscule flecks of raw prawn, I dropped them down expecting the next bite to result in a tiny goby or some other micro species I'd caught before, but you never know! More time passed, with nothing happening, not even the little taps, and to be honest I was contemplating calling it a night, when my tiny hook rigged rod began twitching away. Picking it up, whatever was on the end felt bigger than a small goby and was putting up a strange fight. As it came up to the surface, I got quite a shock when I realised that it was a rather big pipefish! My first ever, it turned out to be a specimen greater pipefish.

What a bizarre fish! Cousin of the seahorse, they have a bony armoured body, but are surprisingly flexible. While trying to get some photos it kept moving its long tail around in a circling motion!

With a long straw like snout, they slurp up their food. I'm not sure what they normally eat to be honest, but was certainly glad this one had taken a tiny piece of raw prawn!

A totally unexpected bonus species, I was over the moon to catch my first ever species of pipefish. It was also my 93rd saltwater species in the UK, so I now only require ten more to hit my target of one hundred. I carried on fishing for a couple more hours but nothing else was biting, so I packed up and headed along the coast to my accommodation, happy in the knowledge that regardless of what happened during the rest of the trip, it most certainly had been worthwhile visiting Hartlepool Marina!

The next day, I didn't get up too early and after breakfast I decided to visit the exposed intertidal rocks on the shoreline between Pilot Pier and Heugh Breakwater. I wasn't expecting anything unusual there, but it was a lovely day, and I was still in a high spirits after the previous day's specimen plaice and greater pipefish. Carefully making my way down over the bladderwrack covered rocks, I eventually found a few rockpools that looked quite promising and spending some time dangling tiny pieces of prawn into potential hiding spots eventually produced a few fish.

My playground for a few hours of rockpooling fun.

Slightly deeper rockpools with large rocks in them provide perfect hiding places for small ambush predators and highly territorial species.

I caught a few tiny long spined sea scorpions. They're super aggressive, and if present, quickly rush out to gobble a tiny bait.

Common blenny are a bit more cautious. They won't dart out and prefer the bait put inside their hiding place or at least right next to it, so they can grab it and retreat to safety. Once caught they like to bite you, which I still find very amusing.

Walking back to the car, feeling quite relaxed and enjoying the sun, I passed a mural featuring a local angler who seemed to be struggling to catch anything.

Andy Capp wasn't having much luck with the lumpsucker either.

After some lunch, I headed back to Hartlepool Marina for another session. Hoping that lightning would strike twice, and I'd somehow catch my second new species of the trip in the shape of a lumpsucker, it was very slow. Towards the end of the session, Bill, the local angler who had spotted the lumpsucker last week, came down to say hello, so at least I had someone to talk to for the last hour or two. It was great chatting to him and the info he shared on the lumpsucker and their behaviour was very interesting. A few have been seen and some of those caught over the last few years in Hartlepool Marina, in fact only one person that he knew of had caught one fishing blind. As we chatted away, my rods sat still, and by the time I threw in the towel the only thing that I'd landed was a solitary large common prawn.

Crustaceans do not count! I'd suffered my first blank of 2026.

The following morning, I met up with Bill and another local angler named Kev. Meeting up near the marina, we walked out across Middleton Beach to fish in some rockpools next to Middleton Pier that were about to be exposed over low tide. They were both fairly confident that we'd be able to catch viviparous blenny, a species I normally target in the open sea, so the prospect of catching them from rockpools was a fairly novel concept to me.

Bill & Kev patiently searching for our target species.

One of several long spined sea scorpion I kicked the session off with.

Eventually I caught a common blenny from a deeper hole.

The rockpool that Bill had caught nine viviparous blenny from during one session a previous year, sadly didn't produce any, and left us wondering if there were any around. The lads explained that recent storms had moved a lot of the boulders around and sand had also filled in some of the cracks underneath some of the larger rocks too, limiting likely spots somewhat. Working our way along the base of the pier, Kev found a dark recess and dropping a piece of isome in, pulled out the first viviparous blenny of the session.

I think this is the first viviparous blenny time I've seen caught from a rockpool.

As we carried on exploring all the nooks and crannies we could find, a few more long spined sea scorpion were caught. The deeper and darker the hole, the bigger they got. Some also had some beautiful spots on the back sides of their pectoral fins.

The colour variations in long spined sea scorpions are diverse, but these marking are pretty awesome too.

The biggest long spined sea scorpion I caught.

As the tide turned and began to flood, we doubled back and made our way back towards the shore. When we reached the spot where Kev had caught the viviparous blenny, I dropped my bait into the same spot. It wasn't in there long before a fish was pulling my rod tip down and the second viviparous blenny of the session was quickly pulled out.

My first viviparous blenny from a rockpool. A new way to target them that I might try locally.

Bill then encouraged me to drop my split shot rig down into a small but particularly deep hole. Rather than a gap in rocks in a rockpool, it was part of the foundations of the pier and the hole went down a few feet. Again, it didn't take too long for a fish to take my bait and pull my rod tip down. Pulling it out, I could tell it was a bigger fish and was quite surprised when a shore rockling appeared!

My first shore rockling from a rockpool too!

Three beards does not always make it a three bearded rockling!

By that point, the tide was about to cut us off, so we made our way back up onto the sea coal covered sands of Middleton Beach. It had been great fishing with Bill and Kev, I'd really enjoyed their company and had learned a new approach for targeting viviparous blenny that may prove to be useful in the future at similar venues.

Middleton beach is covered in a layer of sea coal giving it a jet black appearance.

Heading back to our cars, I thanked Bill and Kev for inviting me to join them, sharing their knowledge, and then we said our goodbyes. After some lunch, I decided to make the three hour drive back up the road. It had turned out to be a very enjoyable trip. The specimen plaice and the unexpected bonus capture of the greater pipefish made the tough fishing in the marina well worth the effort and the time spent rockpooling had also been very enjoyable too. I'd gone to try to catch a lumpsucker, but despite having failed to do that, it felt like I'd gained a lot more out of the trip. A new PB plaice, a new species, and I'd also met two local anglers who had given me valuable information and shown me a new way to target viviparous blenny. All that being said, the draw of catching a lumpsucker might see me returning to Hartlepool again very soon!

Tight lines, Scott.

All the right fish in all the right places.

Species hunting is fairly straight forward, once you know where to go hunting. Over the years, I’ve built up a good knowledge of places where certain species can reliably be caught at certain times of the year. Sometimes however, I’ll be fishing a venue that I thought I was very familiar with and be pleasantly surprised when I catch something I’ve never caught there before. This happened to me on Tuesday. Fishing at Newhaven Harbour in Edinburgh, I caught a sand goby, a species I’ve never caught there before. 

My first ever sand goby at Newhaven Harbour.

Two days later, I was fishing at the inlet area at Torness Power Station. It was very windy and things were very slow. When I finally caught a fish, it was yet another goldsinny wrasse, so I decided to go catch something else. Heading around to the outflow area, I spent thirty minutes there sight fishing for common goby from a large rockpool. There were lots of them present, and using tanago hooks baited with tiny pieces of ragworm, I soon caught a few and popped them in my photo tank. I also caught a small common blenny and popped it in the tank too, using the white push plate as a divider to keep the two species separate.

Common by name…

…common by nature.

On my way back, I took a detour and decided to try to catch a lesser weever. The eastern end of Belhaven Bay produces this small venomous fish at the end of the summer, so I headed there. Fishing a scaled down three hook flapper rig, with 4lb short snoods, small sections of ragworm baited onto #12 hooks and using a 14g lead, I cast out just past where the waves were breaking. Holding my ultra light rod in hand, I slowly wound in my rig along the sandy bottom. After a few casts, I felt a rattle and after a brief pause, wound in a small flounder. 

There must be thousands of these along the length of the beach, feeding in just a few inches of water. 

With an easterly wind blowing, it was pretty cold, but I persevered, catching two more tiny flounder before a fourth bite produced what I was after, a lesser weever. Happy enough, and not wishing to further increase my chances of being stung, I carefully unhooked and returned it, called it a day and headed home having added another species to my 2024 tally.

The lesser weever, a nice looking little fish that lives in the sand. It has a nasty sting that causes a great deal of pain should its black dorsal fin or gill plate spines puncture your skin. 

The beach is popular with people who enjoy watersports including this large group of children who were learning to surf. No doubt barefoot!  I’m surprised more people don’t step on buried weever if I’m honest. I guess when they detect nearby movement, they simply wiggle up from where they’re hiding and swim away to safety.

On Thursday afternoon, I headed to fish in a drainage pond about an hour from Edinburgh. My mate Chris caught a lovely rudd there recently and was kind enough to share the location with me. He caught it on a dry fly, but I decided to fish a maggot under a puddle chucker float. It was a cold windy day, but thankfully the small body of water was low down in a depression, so I was slightly sheltered as I stood there fishing. Feeding a small amount of maggots fairly often, and casting my float repeatedly to try and induce a take “on the drop”, I missed a few very subtle knocks but after a few hours I’d had no luck catching my target for the day. A solitary small perch being the only thing preventing a blank. A reminder that just because you know where a species can be caught, doesn’t always mean you’ll catch it! 

The blank saver. 

Summer is gone. Autumn is here. Winter will follow. A slightly depressing thought. As the temperature continues to drop, the fishing is going to get more difficult. Opportunities to get out will no doubt start to thin out too as conditions deteriorate. Anyway, on a much more positive note, the weather on Malta looks great over the next week or so, and I’m flying out there early tomorrow morning. I can’t wait for some species hunting fun in the sun! I’m also going on a three week trip to Singapore, Cambodia and Thailand in November, so I’ve still got plenty of species hunting to look forward to. 

Tight lines, Scott.

Thorn in my side.

Last weekend, I headed back down to the Solway Firth with my mate Nick. Having caught my first Scottish Dover sole there recently, I wasn’t really expecting to be returning so soon, but the conditions and tides looked good for an evening session. Nick hadn’t caught a ray for a while, and as I’ve discovered, they’re pretty much a guaranteed catch down there. After driving down and digging some lugworm to add to our supply of ragworm, we headed to our chosen spot, got set up, and started fishing. As expected, our first few casts all produced a thornback ray. 

The channel we were fishing was once again full of these spiky flat sharks.

As the session continued, the thornback ray kept coming, but eventually I also started to catch a few lesser spotted dogfish as well, a welcome change!

How exciting?!

Both fishing two rods, we were kept busy well into darkness but eventually, as it always does, the tide got to the point where it was ebbing strongly and weed became a major problem. With a couple of hours of driving for Nick to do and having enjoyed another action packed session, we packed up and headed home. A pity we didn’t catch any other species, but at least we caught plenty of fish!

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.

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.

Northern sole.

Dover sole is normally a species I’d associate with the estuary systems of southern England. At least that’s what I used to think. Last year I was told a few of them had been caught in the estuary systems of south west Scotland. Heading down there to try and catch one has obviously been on my to do list ever since, but last Friday evening was the first time I’d actually driven down there to give it a go. My mate Ryan was keen to head down there with me so after picking him up we drove down in the evening and fished the last three hours of the rising tide and the first hour of the ebb. I fished ragworm on a three hook flapper rig, trapping small weights on my snoods using float stops to pin them to the muddy bottom we were fishing over. Sole prefer a stationary bait presentation. Ryan wasn’t interested in catching sole, so he opted to fish two hook flapper and pulley rigs baited with crab and squid to target shark species. For the first hour of the session the current was ripping by in front of us and weed was a major problem, but both eventually began to ease off and this made fishing much more straight forward. Ironically, despite fishing smaller baits on much smaller hooks, I was first to catch a couple of thornback ray. 

I think it was the first time I’ve caught a ray on ragworm. Usually I prefer a frozen launce rapped in squid when targetting rays. 

As light faded, bites started coming fairly steadily and despite a few rather annoying midgies appearing as the wind dropped off, it turned into a very enjoyable session. 

The legs of an old pier next to us may have been rotten but the view certainly was not. 

Every time my rod tip registered some interest I was of course hopeful that it was an elongated brown flatfish greedily munching on my ragworm but every time it was a thornback ray. Meanwhile Ryan had caught a few thornback ray too, as well as some starry smoothhound and lesser spotted dogfish. Eventually, I caught a lesser spotted dogfish of my own, my first of the year. 

I don’t care what the haters say, when they’re not trying to rasp the skin from your arms, dogfish are awesome!

Ryan’s biggest starry smoothhound of the night. 

During the last hour I was tempted to switch out my rig and bait to try to catch a starry smoothhound myself, but I had ragworm left to use up and a new species to add my Scottish tally. As high tide approached the bites slowed right down and weed began to be problematic again. On my last cast my rod tip rattled and lifting into the culprit I knew it was too big to be a Dover sole. 

My last cast produced a nice thornback ray. 

I never grow tired of admiring their eyes. Stunning!

Despite failing to catch my intended target, it had been a good session. A new venue fished and I’m sure with a bit of persistence I’ll eventually get my first Scottish Dover sole. Like I said at the beginning of this post, I know that at least three have been “accidentally” caught at three separate south west Scottish estuary marks by anglers who were targeting other, larger species. I actually think there may be a few of them down there, it’s just that anglers aren’t specifically targeting them or using the required sole specific tactics.

Tight lines, Scott.