26th November - Dungeness with Gary and Si

I did try fishing where the rainbow pointed.......

Gary very kindly came and picked me up, and I settled back into the passenger seat relaxed and looking forward to an afternoon/evening session in pursuit of the barbeled one in Kentish lands. The relaxation turned into blind panic when I realised I had forgotten to put my bait pump into Gary's wagon, but all was well as Gary had luckily bought his along, all nicely tuned up as well. An excellent breakfast in the Bridge Cafe just through Hastings, and all was well in the world. On arrival, there was even a rainbow marking the spot where we would doubtless catch many fine cod. A leisurely stroll across the mud gave us 70 prime freshout worms. Everything was good in the world as we sent out our baits. A very strong westerly wind was deflected by the shingle, and meant the baits were turbo charged in the D-grippers, a high lob being carried a long way out. Anotehr friend, Simon, could be seen out on one of the local charter boats, and he came to join us in our quest, depsite having fished non-stop since the previous evening.

Queen Cockle. A usefull tip bait

Even a bit of sunshine came along. It was all so pleasant, it was inevitable things would start to go wrong.......... A few dark clouds skitted along the channel.........

Calm before the storm.......

A hint of things to come.....

As it got dark, the wind picked up a bit more. A few spots of rain began to fall. The beach buddy began to judder quite heavily. An hour later, and a squall form hell came through. Winds likely to be 60mph+ meant I was hanging on to the poles of my buddy to stop it being taken seawards. The rain was monsoon like. I peered around the corner to see Gary also hanging on to his shelter, the wind contorting it to a shape that shouldnt be. I looked to the right, and Si, having experienced similar conditions the previous night, was breezing it on account of having half the shingle of Dungie in a protective cocoon around his shelter. Wise man!! I had my rods high in the cups, to get over the big swells, and the inevitable happened, the rods tipping over, and the butts now being in the air. That was fine, and I thought I would sit out the squall before dealing with it. But, with the lines now at beach level, the bass rod picked up a big clump of weed and began being dragged into the sea. I knew the consequences of letting go of the beach buddie would be bad, but if I didnt I would say goodbye to the bass rod. I leapt forward, hoping to secure the rod and get back to the shelter before it flew. But instead it followed me and cocooned around me. I really thought the next stage was going to be me and it blown into the sea. For a second I could imagine the hilarious headlines. But in my panic, I attempted to fold the buddy. Except it was all rigidly set up. So, it did fold, at the expense of blowing the top of one of the poles to pieces. 20 yeards old, possibly time to retire it. A very good value bit of kit. By this time the sight of me flapping and rolling in a monsoon had attracted Si's attention, and he ran over to assist my plight. Getting sorted, I managed to resecure the shelter, with a LOT more shingle and we proceeded to fish.

The fishing had not lived up to expectations. Plenty of whiting, but no coddies. I fished a second rod in close, hoping for a bass following up the shellfish trail, but instead all I got was more and more whiting. The second squall, with equally strong winds and rain, complete with lightning, was enough to convince us perhaps it was time to be back on the road to Sussex........!!