Fishing: 15:00pm - 18:15pm
Weather: Light NW wind, dying off later. Sunny.
Fishing Grounds: Somewhere off Sark.
Species: Anything Flat.
After picking the worms up from Chancre (thats the nick name of the bait man) down on the fisherman's key, Stu and I headed to a mark not too far from Sark that we knew was producing some nice size Turbot. Days before there had been 8lb's, 10lb's coming up. Hopes were high between myself and Tuc.We got to the mark to find that there was already a few boats fishing.
Down to business, Tuc set up using a 5/0 hook with a sand eel flapper, standard tactics for targeting Turbot. I was armed with a bunch of nice red and a few green sand eels on a 6/0 hook. 30 minutes in I had a very good bite, I reeled into what I thought was a good fish, I could feel movement and weight, hoping it was a flattie. A minute or two later and up came the most....huge....massive.....slimiest piece of seaweed you'd ever seen. Oh well may dream of catching a turbot was shattered.
Very little action after that, what made it more frustrating is that the anglers that were already there were catching, the boat alongside us had landed two nice sized fish. After 3 hours of sun bathing waiting for a bite we started to pack up and head home. That's when we saw wiggi out in his boat, so Tuc gave him a call to see if he had any luck. The following conversation went something like this.
Tuc: Any fish!
Wiggi: Na. And you!
Tuc: No flats this end. Heading home.
Wiggi: No fish here Tuc! follow me.
With that, Wiggi was hard on the stick and had his boat up on plane and was off to his secret spot, with us following close on his stern. We got to Wiggi's mark in good time and began the drift for bass and turbot (Drift No.1). We were within casting distance of one of the popular Sark fishing marks. First blood of the day went to Wiggi, we could here him jumping up and down with excitement as he landed a nice bass and looking very smug with himself. His face soon dropped as Tuc's rod tip bent over and touched the water.
After a few minutes scrap, up came a very nicely sized 9.5lb Tub. (Drift No.2) saw a little toaster size Tub caught by yours truly, which I put back to fight another day. By this time Wiggi was not jumping up and down with excitement he was giving us verbal abuse about how he showed us his little spot and we had cleaned up.... All to late now Wig, the marks are in the plotter.............
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