As competitions go, The Cornish Lure Festival, hosted by Art Of Fishing in Wadebridge, has a bit of an aura. With longest bass, longest wrasse and a species hunt, you wouldn't get a prize for predicting what category I went for... That's right, it was time to pit my wits against my fellow LRF obsessives.
Richard Salter has become a real partner in crime of mine over the last year, we are both a bit mad about mini-species and lure fishing in general. When I put it to him that we could have a decent crack at the comp', I was pleased when he said he could join me. With family commitments, Rich doesn't get to fish into darkness often and never gets to fish a whole weekend. With the go ahead from his rather understanding Wife, we made plans to meet up on the Friday of the competition. We both had to work on the Friday so we were starting late. Rich arrived in Plymouth around 5:30pm. We quickly loaded up my little VW Polo with LRF goodness (plus snacks) and headed to Wadebridge to pick up our cards.
The traffic was ridiculous; being Friday rush hour, so it was dark by the time we got to The Art Of Fishing shop. I had heard great things about the place and frequently used the online store. I was intrigued to see it in person and meet Ben Field, the owner. I wasn't disappointed. The place is a lure angler's wet dream! With every nook of the space being occupied by lure fishing paraphernalia and incredible, beautiful works of art trying to pass off as being fishing rods. Honestly I could have perved on those rods for days. The Tailwalk Light Gamer TZ S77L being the true object of my affection, and a steal at just £419(!). Ben really knows how to get an angler deciding he needs a new rod!
Eventually we managed to tear ourselves away and headed to the first mark. Now forgive me for not naming marks in this blog, I owe a huge amount of my location knowledge to the local anglers I have met, so I won't be blowing any of them here. It's not hard to work out our locations from some of the photos though. It was already nearly 9pm so we were keen to get going. We parked up and walked to the spot.
The conditions were perfect, flat calm and mild. The tide was nearly at low, but with plenty of water left. A bright light shone onto the surface from the pontoon in front of us. We couldn't have asked for more as we saw splashes and lots of fish movement. I said to Rich that it was definitely scad. We both eagerly made our way onto the sand to get into a fishing position. Excitedly I tied on a Spro glow in the dark 3 gram jighead with a small paddletail. First cast I was in! As I battled my first fish of the competition, Richard made me laugh as he had brought along a section each of two different rods! Meaning he would have to fish with a very poorly fitting hybrid rod, not ideal but very funny. Despite the laughter I landed the scad. First species down.
Call them aji, scad or horse mackerel, they are awesome fish.
This simple lure did most of the damage that night.
The hybrid didn't hinder Rich, he was quickly into a powerful fish, revealing itself to be a mackerel. At first we both couldn't stop catching the fish the other wanted, mine being all scad, his being mackerel. Then I had something different, the head shaking giving away it's identity - a schoolie bass. Species number two. I then caught the mackerel I needed. Number three. It was looking good! Richard managed his scad and so began one of the most enjoyable sessions I have had in ages. We had fish almost every single cast, jumbo sized mackerel and chunky scad, it was fantastic fun. I also managed to get the lure a little deeper to find myself a micro pollock, taking me to four species in a hectic hour. Even when I switched to dropshot I couldn't stop catching scad, it was almost impossible to pull ourselves away!
Richard was like a kid in a candy shop with all the scad and mackerel on offer.
Luckily enough the tide was on the turn, pushing us off our beach and onto the pontoon. This meant we were forced to abandon the scad and mackerel to search for other species. Aided by head-torches, we could see lots of tiny smelt on the surface. We switched to smaller jigheads but it proved pretty futile, save a few little pollock, taking Rich to three species. I turned my attention to another species, figuring there must be some flounder around. Using my torch I found a small one in the shallows. It followed my lure a few times but was proving wily. On one of the retrieves though, a hidden flounder snatched the lure from it's wily brother and hooked itself. Only small, it gave a spirited fight and ended up quickly in my hand. Result! My fifth species of the evening. Tried as we may, we couldn't find one for Richard to target after that, which was pretty frustrating.
Micro pollock like this one were a real theme of the weekend.
Rich was clearly loving the night fishing though and couldn't stop targeting the scad and mackerel. Casts along the side of the boats were providing constant sport for him. I have often told him stories of excellent fishing like this, so it was a pleasure to get him involved finally. With him distracted by the entertainers, I went for the frustrators. Sand smelt are either a doddle or a nightmare to catch, depending on their mood and size. A larger (I use that term generously), hungry smelt is one of the easiest fish to catch in the ocean, a small spooky one is not. There was a large shoal dimpling the surface so I knew I had a chance. This time it was a doddle; with a small one taking the lure on the first cast. Species number six. Richard couldn't find the same luck, losing a couple on the way in. Eventually tiredness beat us and we prepared for an early start the next day.
Smartphone cameras and darkness are an awful mix, so please forgive some of the photos here.
I live across the Tamar in Plymouth, so we needed a more local place to stay. Luckily enough my Gran still lives in Looe and is a very willing host. Imagine a classic Cornish old lady and that's her, she's an absolute legend. We got there about 1:30am but she didn't care. We set our alarms for 6 and prepared ourselves to be knackered the next day.
We awoke and quickly got ourselves showered and loaded with coffee. Four hours sleep was a pitiful amount but we convinced ourselves it would be worth it. Jumping back in the car we headed west. Into deepest darkest Cornwall to fish a harbour that had produced a lot of wrasse and blennies for me in the past. The weather was predicted to be awful and for once it proved accurate. A bitter northerly wind, coupled with heavy rain showers. I was starting to think we should have stayed in bed a bit longer. That feeling didn't disappear once we got to the mark. The low tide was lower than I had thought, with a lot of water missing and not a fish in sight. Well... We were there already so it was worth a shot!
Dropshot was going to be key in the wind, using a seven gram weight to keep me in touch with my lure. I dropped it into one of the holes I could see in the rocks below and had instant bites. After a few missed strikes (I blamed the tiredness) I had my first fish of the day, a corkwing wrasse. Species number seven. Richard soon had one himself, taking him to four. A pattern formed of lots of bites and the culprits being either corkys or pollock. With the wind relentless and the rain intense, it wasn't inspiring.
Beautiful and dainty, we both love corkys, but we needed more variety!
We moved along and spotted a group of large mullet under a very high walkway, we cast around the structure, half praying we wouldn't hook one, as we would never have landed one from 30 foot up. It did look like it might hold a goby or poor cod though. I dropped into a shaded corner by a sunken boat... tap tap tap, I struck. I reeled in the culprit, a black goby, probably wondering how it got so high up! Species number eight. Gobies only count as one species in this competition, regardless of type. Which, for the record, I think is a silly rule. With so many varieties it is a massive shame to put them all under one banner, something I hope Ben changes next year. These days we all have good cameras on our phones and have got pretty good at species identification. Hopefully they will be brought into the fold next year. Anyway I shall digress!
We couldn't find anymore fish from the walkway and the next spot produced nothing either. The rain was really beating down now and we had both had enough. I felt pretty bad as I had made the call to travel this far, but for two species it was hardly worth it. Richard was as chilled as ever though and, after a pasty/coffee break, we decided to head back east.
The weather was starting to improve and after a forty five minute drive (it seems everywhere in Cornwall is forty five minutes away from where you are, it's a blessing and a pain in the arse!), we got to the new mark. One of my absolute favourite sandy harbours, it was as picturesque as you could get, if you could ignore the wind. At this point I received a call from Will Pender, who informed me he was already on seventeen species, having fished from early afternoon and barely slept all night! Apparently fellow contenders Luke Fox and Ross Johnson were also close to twenty. We were slacking and had totally underestimated the insanity of the competition. We had to get our arses into gear to try and save face.
The tide was still fairly low so we headed to the rockpools first. We were greeted by the sight of a small scorpion fish hunting. I was briefly entranced by watching this natural behaviour first hand, but I eventually got set up. The scorp' was either full or spooked because all we could catch were shannies. Although that took me to nine species and Richard to five.
We caught loads of blennies over the weekend, they really can live almost anywhere.
We moved into the harbour and Rich was instantly into our target species, the lesser weaver fish. This hard to love fish being the species everyone is petrified of standing on over the summer, with good reason, they hurt! Richard expertly unhooked his six species of the weekend, returning the tiny venomous fish back into the sea. I had a horrible wind knot in my line that riled me a little more than was necessary. Obviously I was tired and grumpy! I took a moment, had a drink and composed myself, retying my leader and rig. First cast from new, improved, calmer Ben produced my own weaver, taking me to double figures.
Not on the top of everyone's wishlist! Be very careful with these when unhooking, using barbless hooks is a must for you and the fish.
Further casts produced no new species so it was time to move. East again. The next harbour was another of my favourites, shown to me by Will. It was time to target gurnards. The previous time I had fished there we had caught loads. Hopefully they were still around. White isome rigged on a dropshot worked before so I started with that. Richard was using something similar and we cast our way around, bumping the weight along the sandy bottom, hoping to catch a gurnard's eye. Rich drew first blood; the rat-a-tat bite followed by an awkward bumpy fight gave it away, a little tub gurnard. Species number seven for him. Myself? I was taking my time, I hooked my biggest ever weaver, which was a nice, venomous surprise. I then lost a much better tub right at the surface! Was I going to fail catching a fish that was so obviously plentiful? Of course not, as my next few casts produced a beautiful little tub gurnard, an armour plated sea butterfly. I love them, species number eleven.
I could probably sit and catch these all day. They are aggressive and beautiful, just what I want in my fish!
We both caught a couple more and decided it was time to move on. We needed more 'rockfish' species - with ballan and goldsinny wrasse, tompot blennies and scorpions still eluding us. We were back in the town from the previous night, except this time the sun was shining and we had more water to work with. We parked up and fished by the ferry, which had produced ballans for me before. It didn't take long for a thumping bite, I struck and line ripped off the reel! It had to be a wrasse and in the current it put up a great scrap. We battled for about a minute until it came into view, I have to say I was slightly disappointed it wasn't a bit bigger but it was a ballan. Richard expertly netted it as it dug in the weed in front of me, somehow leaving the hook in the weed but the fish in the net. Species number twelve. Rich soon followed up his supreme netting skill with a ballan of his own, bringing him to to eight species. After we were plagued by sand gobies we moved on to the next spot further into town.
The small pier in the town is a popular mark so I was surprised to find it devoid of anglers, although I was very pleased about it. I dropped my dropshot rig onto the rockier side of it and quickly had bites. I was hoping for goldsinny and after a few missed strikes I had one. Species number thirteen. The conditions felt right for a garfish so I quickly switched up, tied on a shore jig and got to work. I cast and cast and cast, with only occasional hits to give me hope. The wind had dropped a little and the sun kept peeking from behind the clouds, it felt right but I caught nothing but a tiny mackerel. Rich was instead reaping the rewards of my goldsinny spot, hoping for one himself but all he could find were tompots. Species number nine for him.
We decided to refresh ourselves, get some dinner and recoup. It had been a long day and we were getting by on four hours sleep. Being a generous soul, Rich treated us to cod and chips, coupled with a full sugar can of coke, definitely needed! We sat in near silence just munching through the (pretty decent) food. Eventually we hatched a plan, head back to the pier, try for the scorpions, tompots and dragonets, then fish the night in the previous night's spot.
Conditions were improving but I was definitely flagging! The Cornish LRF'ers are made of sterner stuff.
I was feeling a lot better now, funny how greasy food can do that eh? We got back there and I focused on the tompots while Rich targeted the dragonets. It actually didn't take too long to get the tompot blenny I was after, although it was probably the smallest I have ever caught. Species number fourteen. We were both using carolina rigs to keep our lures (either Gulp Isome or Ecogear Shirasu) on the bottom and where the dragons' hopefully were. Now it was Richard's time to shine as he caught a sand goby and his first ever dragonet. Species numbers ten and eleven, finally at the double figure mark that was the target for him from the start.
Rich is known to take a good photo and I love this one of his first ever dragonet.
Now could I get a dragonet? Absolutely not. Richard managed to catch another to rub it in too. I decided I would try for one later as I was getting a little bored of tiny sand goby rattles. After a half-hearted attempt at a scorpion, we decided we should head back the car, get our head-torches and some energy drink, to focus on the evening ahead.
Kitted up and topped up with caffeine drinks of dubious health benefit, could we get another species? We fished all around the town as the tide retreated, catching plenty of small pollock along the way. Eventually the tide had receded enough so that we could fish on the sand that had provided so much fun the night before. Rich really needed a bass and a smelt still, so this was worth another try. I donated one of my glow in the dark jig heads and a small paddletail, hoping it would do the same trick for him. And it really did! He soon had the predicted scad and mackerel in good numbers and sizes. Then, while I took a phone call, a bigger fish took it close in. At first I presumed another mackerel but as it came in close I shone my torch into the water, immediately I hung up the phone and got the net, It was a lovely schoolie bass. We got it in and we both beamed, it was wasn't a huge bass by any means but a fantastic catch on LRF tackle, around two pounds. Richard's twelfth species of the competition and a real bonus size.
Rich doesn't target bass often so I think this a new PB for him. It topped off some really enjoyable night sessions.
We carried on for a little while longer but we were both knackered and I had hit a wall. With the cross-wind a nightmare and tiredness taking it's toll, we headed home to get some rest for the final day.
We hadn't checked on how Will was doing, we just presumed he was smashing it as usual. The mark we headed to on the final morning was one of his, generously shown to me on a jaunt a month or two ago. Richard had never caught a montagu's blenny, a tiny fish that is as pretty as it is rare in the UK. Cornwall is lucky to have a healthy population of them, hopefully I could introduce Rich to at least one of them. You have to fish in rockpools to catch them and the Cornish coast is full of them, this mark being particularly rich with suitable habitat. Anything could turn up, but we didn't have long. We had to be back at Wadebridge for 1pm, so time was of the essence.
Size eighteen hooks and split shot rigs were the order of the day. The simple set up was tied and ready to go. We made our way across the impressive terrain, all full of tempting pools and hiding spots left by the tide. At first we caught shannies and not much else. Then Richard managed to catch the fish I was hoping for, a long spined sea scorpion, which took him by surprise darting out from under a boulder. That fish taking him to thirteen species. I was a tad envious but really pleased for him, I'm useless at catching scorps' during competitions.
They are my nemesis! Beautiful though.
Will and his 23 (TWENTY THREE!!) species.
Richard Salter has become a real partner in crime of mine over the last year, we are both a bit mad about mini-species and lure fishing in general. When I put it to him that we could have a decent crack at the comp', I was pleased when he said he could join me. With family commitments, Rich doesn't get to fish into darkness often and never gets to fish a whole weekend. With the go ahead from his rather understanding Wife, we made plans to meet up on the Friday of the competition. We both had to work on the Friday so we were starting late. Rich arrived in Plymouth around 5:30pm. We quickly loaded up my little VW Polo with LRF goodness (plus snacks) and headed to Wadebridge to pick up our cards.
The traffic was ridiculous; being Friday rush hour, so it was dark by the time we got to The Art Of Fishing shop. I had heard great things about the place and frequently used the online store. I was intrigued to see it in person and meet Ben Field, the owner. I wasn't disappointed. The place is a lure angler's wet dream! With every nook of the space being occupied by lure fishing paraphernalia and incredible, beautiful works of art trying to pass off as being fishing rods. Honestly I could have perved on those rods for days. The Tailwalk Light Gamer TZ S77L being the true object of my affection, and a steal at just £419(!). Ben really knows how to get an angler deciding he needs a new rod!
Eventually we managed to tear ourselves away and headed to the first mark. Now forgive me for not naming marks in this blog, I owe a huge amount of my location knowledge to the local anglers I have met, so I won't be blowing any of them here. It's not hard to work out our locations from some of the photos though. It was already nearly 9pm so we were keen to get going. We parked up and walked to the spot.
The conditions were perfect, flat calm and mild. The tide was nearly at low, but with plenty of water left. A bright light shone onto the surface from the pontoon in front of us. We couldn't have asked for more as we saw splashes and lots of fish movement. I said to Rich that it was definitely scad. We both eagerly made our way onto the sand to get into a fishing position. Excitedly I tied on a Spro glow in the dark 3 gram jighead with a small paddletail. First cast I was in! As I battled my first fish of the competition, Richard made me laugh as he had brought along a section each of two different rods! Meaning he would have to fish with a very poorly fitting hybrid rod, not ideal but very funny. Despite the laughter I landed the scad. First species down.
Call them aji, scad or horse mackerel, they are awesome fish.
This simple lure did most of the damage that night.
The hybrid didn't hinder Rich, he was quickly into a powerful fish, revealing itself to be a mackerel. At first we both couldn't stop catching the fish the other wanted, mine being all scad, his being mackerel. Then I had something different, the head shaking giving away it's identity - a schoolie bass. Species number two. I then caught the mackerel I needed. Number three. It was looking good! Richard managed his scad and so began one of the most enjoyable sessions I have had in ages. We had fish almost every single cast, jumbo sized mackerel and chunky scad, it was fantastic fun. I also managed to get the lure a little deeper to find myself a micro pollock, taking me to four species in a hectic hour. Even when I switched to dropshot I couldn't stop catching scad, it was almost impossible to pull ourselves away!
I'm useless at catch the big ones but schoolies always seem to find me!
Richard was like a kid in a candy shop with all the scad and mackerel on offer.
Luckily enough the tide was on the turn, pushing us off our beach and onto the pontoon. This meant we were forced to abandon the scad and mackerel to search for other species. Aided by head-torches, we could see lots of tiny smelt on the surface. We switched to smaller jigheads but it proved pretty futile, save a few little pollock, taking Rich to three species. I turned my attention to another species, figuring there must be some flounder around. Using my torch I found a small one in the shallows. It followed my lure a few times but was proving wily. On one of the retrieves though, a hidden flounder snatched the lure from it's wily brother and hooked itself. Only small, it gave a spirited fight and ended up quickly in my hand. Result! My fifth species of the evening. Tried as we may, we couldn't find one for Richard to target after that, which was pretty frustrating.
Big or small, flounder are one of my favourite species.
Micro pollock like this one were a real theme of the weekend.
Rich was clearly loving the night fishing though and couldn't stop targeting the scad and mackerel. Casts along the side of the boats were providing constant sport for him. I have often told him stories of excellent fishing like this, so it was a pleasure to get him involved finally. With him distracted by the entertainers, I went for the frustrators. Sand smelt are either a doddle or a nightmare to catch, depending on their mood and size. A larger (I use that term generously), hungry smelt is one of the easiest fish to catch in the ocean, a small spooky one is not. There was a large shoal dimpling the surface so I knew I had a chance. This time it was a doddle; with a small one taking the lure on the first cast. Species number six. Richard couldn't find the same luck, losing a couple on the way in. Eventually tiredness beat us and we prepared for an early start the next day.
Smartphone cameras and darkness are an awful mix, so please forgive some of the photos here.
I live across the Tamar in Plymouth, so we needed a more local place to stay. Luckily enough my Gran still lives in Looe and is a very willing host. Imagine a classic Cornish old lady and that's her, she's an absolute legend. We got there about 1:30am but she didn't care. We set our alarms for 6 and prepared ourselves to be knackered the next day.
We awoke and quickly got ourselves showered and loaded with coffee. Four hours sleep was a pitiful amount but we convinced ourselves it would be worth it. Jumping back in the car we headed west. Into deepest darkest Cornwall to fish a harbour that had produced a lot of wrasse and blennies for me in the past. The weather was predicted to be awful and for once it proved accurate. A bitter northerly wind, coupled with heavy rain showers. I was starting to think we should have stayed in bed a bit longer. That feeling didn't disappear once we got to the mark. The low tide was lower than I had thought, with a lot of water missing and not a fish in sight. Well... We were there already so it was worth a shot!
Dropshot was going to be key in the wind, using a seven gram weight to keep me in touch with my lure. I dropped it into one of the holes I could see in the rocks below and had instant bites. After a few missed strikes (I blamed the tiredness) I had my first fish of the day, a corkwing wrasse. Species number seven. Richard soon had one himself, taking him to four. A pattern formed of lots of bites and the culprits being either corkys or pollock. With the wind relentless and the rain intense, it wasn't inspiring.
Beautiful and dainty, we both love corkys, but we needed more variety!
We moved along and spotted a group of large mullet under a very high walkway, we cast around the structure, half praying we wouldn't hook one, as we would never have landed one from 30 foot up. It did look like it might hold a goby or poor cod though. I dropped into a shaded corner by a sunken boat... tap tap tap, I struck. I reeled in the culprit, a black goby, probably wondering how it got so high up! Species number eight. Gobies only count as one species in this competition, regardless of type. Which, for the record, I think is a silly rule. With so many varieties it is a massive shame to put them all under one banner, something I hope Ben changes next year. These days we all have good cameras on our phones and have got pretty good at species identification. Hopefully they will be brought into the fold next year. Anyway I shall digress!
We couldn't find anymore fish from the walkway and the next spot produced nothing either. The rain was really beating down now and we had both had enough. I felt pretty bad as I had made the call to travel this far, but for two species it was hardly worth it. Richard was as chilled as ever though and, after a pasty/coffee break, we decided to head back east.
The weather was starting to improve and after a forty five minute drive (it seems everywhere in Cornwall is forty five minutes away from where you are, it's a blessing and a pain in the arse!), we got to the new mark. One of my absolute favourite sandy harbours, it was as picturesque as you could get, if you could ignore the wind. At this point I received a call from Will Pender, who informed me he was already on seventeen species, having fished from early afternoon and barely slept all night! Apparently fellow contenders Luke Fox and Ross Johnson were also close to twenty. We were slacking and had totally underestimated the insanity of the competition. We had to get our arses into gear to try and save face.
The tide was still fairly low so we headed to the rockpools first. We were greeted by the sight of a small scorpion fish hunting. I was briefly entranced by watching this natural behaviour first hand, but I eventually got set up. The scorp' was either full or spooked because all we could catch were shannies. Although that took me to nine species and Richard to five.
We caught loads of blennies over the weekend, they really can live almost anywhere.
We moved into the harbour and Rich was instantly into our target species, the lesser weaver fish. This hard to love fish being the species everyone is petrified of standing on over the summer, with good reason, they hurt! Richard expertly unhooked his six species of the weekend, returning the tiny venomous fish back into the sea. I had a horrible wind knot in my line that riled me a little more than was necessary. Obviously I was tired and grumpy! I took a moment, had a drink and composed myself, retying my leader and rig. First cast from new, improved, calmer Ben produced my own weaver, taking me to double figures.
Not on the top of everyone's wishlist! Be very careful with these when unhooking, using barbless hooks is a must for you and the fish.
Further casts produced no new species so it was time to move. East again. The next harbour was another of my favourites, shown to me by Will. It was time to target gurnards. The previous time I had fished there we had caught loads. Hopefully they were still around. White isome rigged on a dropshot worked before so I started with that. Richard was using something similar and we cast our way around, bumping the weight along the sandy bottom, hoping to catch a gurnard's eye. Rich drew first blood; the rat-a-tat bite followed by an awkward bumpy fight gave it away, a little tub gurnard. Species number seven for him. Myself? I was taking my time, I hooked my biggest ever weaver, which was a nice, venomous surprise. I then lost a much better tub right at the surface! Was I going to fail catching a fish that was so obviously plentiful? Of course not, as my next few casts produced a beautiful little tub gurnard, an armour plated sea butterfly. I love them, species number eleven.
I could probably sit and catch these all day. They are aggressive and beautiful, just what I want in my fish!
Not massive but in classic wrasse colours with those beautiful blue spots.
The small pier in the town is a popular mark so I was surprised to find it devoid of anglers, although I was very pleased about it. I dropped my dropshot rig onto the rockier side of it and quickly had bites. I was hoping for goldsinny and after a few missed strikes I had one. Species number thirteen. The conditions felt right for a garfish so I quickly switched up, tied on a shore jig and got to work. I cast and cast and cast, with only occasional hits to give me hope. The wind had dropped a little and the sun kept peeking from behind the clouds, it felt right but I caught nothing but a tiny mackerel. Rich was instead reaping the rewards of my goldsinny spot, hoping for one himself but all he could find were tompots. Species number nine for him.
We decided to refresh ourselves, get some dinner and recoup. It had been a long day and we were getting by on four hours sleep. Being a generous soul, Rich treated us to cod and chips, coupled with a full sugar can of coke, definitely needed! We sat in near silence just munching through the (pretty decent) food. Eventually we hatched a plan, head back to the pier, try for the scorpions, tompots and dragonets, then fish the night in the previous night's spot.
Conditions were improving but I was definitely flagging! The Cornish LRF'ers are made of sterner stuff.
I was feeling a lot better now, funny how greasy food can do that eh? We got back there and I focused on the tompots while Rich targeted the dragonets. It actually didn't take too long to get the tompot blenny I was after, although it was probably the smallest I have ever caught. Species number fourteen. We were both using carolina rigs to keep our lures (either Gulp Isome or Ecogear Shirasu) on the bottom and where the dragons' hopefully were. Now it was Richard's time to shine as he caught a sand goby and his first ever dragonet. Species numbers ten and eleven, finally at the double figure mark that was the target for him from the start.
Rich is known to take a good photo and I love this one of his first ever dragonet.
Now could I get a dragonet? Absolutely not. Richard managed to catch another to rub it in too. I decided I would try for one later as I was getting a little bored of tiny sand goby rattles. After a half-hearted attempt at a scorpion, we decided we should head back the car, get our head-torches and some energy drink, to focus on the evening ahead.
Kitted up and topped up with caffeine drinks of dubious health benefit, could we get another species? We fished all around the town as the tide retreated, catching plenty of small pollock along the way. Eventually the tide had receded enough so that we could fish on the sand that had provided so much fun the night before. Rich really needed a bass and a smelt still, so this was worth another try. I donated one of my glow in the dark jig heads and a small paddletail, hoping it would do the same trick for him. And it really did! He soon had the predicted scad and mackerel in good numbers and sizes. Then, while I took a phone call, a bigger fish took it close in. At first I presumed another mackerel but as it came in close I shone my torch into the water, immediately I hung up the phone and got the net, It was a lovely schoolie bass. We got it in and we both beamed, it was wasn't a huge bass by any means but a fantastic catch on LRF tackle, around two pounds. Richard's twelfth species of the competition and a real bonus size.
Rich doesn't target bass often so I think this a new PB for him. It topped off some really enjoyable night sessions.
We carried on for a little while longer but we were both knackered and I had hit a wall. With the cross-wind a nightmare and tiredness taking it's toll, we headed home to get some rest for the final day.
We hadn't checked on how Will was doing, we just presumed he was smashing it as usual. The mark we headed to on the final morning was one of his, generously shown to me on a jaunt a month or two ago. Richard had never caught a montagu's blenny, a tiny fish that is as pretty as it is rare in the UK. Cornwall is lucky to have a healthy population of them, hopefully I could introduce Rich to at least one of them. You have to fish in rockpools to catch them and the Cornish coast is full of them, this mark being particularly rich with suitable habitat. Anything could turn up, but we didn't have long. We had to be back at Wadebridge for 1pm, so time was of the essence.
Size eighteen hooks and split shot rigs were the order of the day. The simple set up was tied and ready to go. We made our way across the impressive terrain, all full of tempting pools and hiding spots left by the tide. At first we caught shannies and not much else. Then Richard managed to catch the fish I was hoping for, a long spined sea scorpion, which took him by surprise darting out from under a boulder. That fish taking him to thirteen species. I was a tad envious but really pleased for him, I'm useless at catching scorps' during competitions.
They are my nemesis! Beautiful though.
We continued to move around, catching the occasional rock goby or shanny to keep us busy, but we had to move with haste. Time wasn't on our side. We then arrived at the rockpool that I knew had montagu's in it. At first the shannies bullied their way to the lure. Yet you could see small, pinky blennies just behind them, I knew these to be the target species. It took a while and we had to pretty much empty the rockpool of shannies, but eventually we both caught a montagu's blenny. Taking Richard to fourteen and me to fifteen species each. They are truly special little fish. With beautiful blue spots and a cute little lapel on their head, making them very distinctive.
I noticed that over the rocks to the right there was a large sandy channel exposed by the low tide. I wondered if that could throw up a bonus species as I was quickly running out of time. I clambered over the rocks and stealthily cast into the shallow water. Dragging the split shot and tiny piece of isome over the sand, I looked for follows. I couldn't believe my luck - a tiny dragonet! Another appeared and we had a chase on, they pecked but my size eighteen seemed too big. I legged it back up the rocks to where I left my tackle bag. I had some size twenty two hooks in there which would be perfect. I switched to the minuscule hook and pinched off a tiny piece of a knackered ecogear shirasu. Sneaking back to the spot, I searched for my target, had it gone? I couldn't see it so I cast around using underarm flicks, gently dragging the tiny lure across the golden sand. There it was... It followed, I was tense and then the spot of a lure disappeared. I pulled the tiny fish out of the water and held it in my hand. Such a beautiful, delicate last minute catch. Species number sixteen.
Time was up. We headed back to the car and got to The Art Of Fishing shop just in time, finding it to be full anglers who looked knackered but were full of banter and tales. We quickly found out Will and Ross had finished on a quite ridiculous twenty three species each! With Will winning on points due to the rarity of some of his fish. Me and Richard finished fourth and fifth, which was a pretty decent result for our first attempt. We had paid the price for missing most of the first day really, yet we felt we could both be proud of the species count for our first attempt. I'm not sure how the others did it because we were spent, we took the obligatory photos, met our fellow competitors and went for a quick half in the pub. After getting a chance to spin some yarn about LRF it was then time to head home, back to reality, satisfied with a cracking weekend's fishing.
Will and his 23 (TWENTY THREE!!) species.
I wanted to finish this blog on a couple of notes. Firstly that Will Pender and his mates in Cornwall are both brilliant and mental, they really know their fishing and Cornwall's marks. Ross, who came second, isn't local but is also a fantastic angler. As is almost always true in LRF, nobody in the scene is selfish or egotistical, they are generous with their marks and time. It's something to be proud of. The second point is that with the competition taking part on two different weekends next year, one for species, one for bass, hopefully we can get loads more anglers involved. That would definitely amp up the excitement even more.
Thanks for reading through this rather long summery of a weekend, hopefully it captured a bit of the hard work, the fun and the variety that was on offer during the competition.
Bring on next year!
Thanks for reading through this rather long summery of a weekend, hopefully it captured a bit of the hard work, the fun and the variety that was on offer during the competition.
Bring on next year!
