The little blue reel seemed to draw my eye from across the room, the harsh artificial light reflecting off its frame. Despite a few scars from a session three years ago where I badly underestimated the power of the swell and nearly had all my gear dragged in, my 7HT Mag has had a pretty easy life with me as its owner. I’ve spared it the donkeywork of regular rock fishing and it’s mostly been saved for those occasions when squeaky clean ground, smaller fish and long distance are top of the bill. My first visit to Chesil in about 18 months was going to be just one of those occasions, and I knew that, despite my seat box already being heavier than a German who lives next door to a sausage factory, the reel just had to come with me. I had a root around, found a case to put it in and stowed it in my box with the three other multipliers that accompany me more regularly.
I always look forward to a trip to Chesil; the many famous venues spread out across the titanic tombolo can all offer great fishing at the right times of year, and the big-fish pedigree of the beach as a whole is beyond question. As well as being a place where dreams of hefty specimens can come true, Chesil also offers a fantastic variety of species to go at, particularly at this time of year when the summer and winter species can overlap. It was the chance of catching a selection of these species that was the real draw for me to leave my home range of Cornwall and head to Dorset for two days. It was fitting that on this trip, I would be joined by the guy who I’d first fished Chesil with four years ago; my friend Roy. Roy is a big fan of the big beach and is as keen on species-orientated fishing as I am. He is also a prolific catcher of fish big and small and, as previous trips had shown, he can fish long past my tiredness barrier. More than once I have fallen asleep after a long session and woken up to Roy happily reeling off all the decent fish he’s caught whilst I’ve been in the land of nod. The bottom line is that you’d be crazy to bet against Roy catching anything that swims; the man is a fish magnet. I was hoping that his mystical powers of attraction would also benefit me, and at least some fish looking for his bait would stumble over mine instead.
I had already made up my mind that the first area to tackle was going to be West Bexington. This stretch would hopefully give us the chance of great flatfish fishing, whilst also bringing the possibility of fish like cod, ray and bass to the table. One of the main targets would be dover sole; I had done quite well with these muscular mud-lovers a couple of years previously and was keen to renew my acquaintance with them. In a bid to virtually guarantee the attention of a hunting sole, I had done a little digging at a local estuary and gathered about a hundred white ragworm, which I split between Roy and myself. In previous sessions I had found that sole appear to be just as smitten with the pearly white polychaetes as plaice are and I was certain that a cocktail of a section of black lug tipped with half a white rag would prove to be the undoing of at least one tasty specimen.
After an early morning meet and a hassle-free drive, we rolled into West Bay to buy a few king rag from the angling centre there. I wasn’t entirely sure that we needed the king rag as we both had a good supply of fresh black lug, along with the whites, but I had a feeling that if I didn’t get some, I may find myself wishing that I had. This was added to our bait arsenal, which also included copious amounts of frozen squid along with a few frozen mackerel and the odd pack of sandeels. The short drive on to West Bexington was spent discussing the rival merits of heading to the east or to the west of the car park there. A couple of years before, I had enjoyed great fishing heading to the west and fishing an area somewhere between West Bexington and Cogden. I remembered the spot well and I felt confident that, if the clay beds were still as prominent there, it would produce the goods for us. The alternative was to head to the east and fish a more popular mark that had recently thrown up some good fish. I had fished this spot a few times before and found it not quite as productive for me, although I did suspect that it probably offered slightly better odds of a cod or ray. Ultimately, we headed to the west, assuming that the less-popular spot would give us a better chance of finding some fish to ourselves.
The conditions were beautiful, a light cross-shore wind was ruffling the surface of the water whilst the sun warmed the shingle around us and glinted off the clear water. Personally, I’m always happy to see at least a slight ripple on the ocean. I tend to feel that even with species that favour calm and clear seas, a little bit of disturbance on the surface breaking up the light pattern is likely to encourage them feed more confidently and improve the fishing. I was confident that we would find at least a few plaice through the day and I prepared my usual rigs; a long pulley dropper style with some green and black beads on the hooklength, and a two-hook clipped rig with a floating bead on the top snood.
I was slightly nervous about the blue 7HT as it had been a bit frisky last time I’d cast it. I clipped on a 6oz lead, turned the dial to ‘7’ and sent out a cast. The reel purred like a happy tabby and although the spool seeming to slow a little prematurely, the sinker flew a pleasing distance out into the sparkling waters. I figured I could get away with a bit less mag power and turned down to ‘6’ before trying again. This time, the reel didn’t seem to hold back at all and the whole cast felt free. It seemed I had found the sweet spot and I didn’t touch the mag dial again for the next 30 or so hours.
My first cast was with my regular first-choice reel, a magged Penn Fathom 15. On the business end was the two hook rig baited with black lug tipped with white rag, which would be carried by a 6oz plain lead. Noting the wind coming over my right shoulder, I opted to angle the cast slightly so that the trajectory wouldn’t fight the breeze too much. I find this is a useful ploy at places like Chesil if the wind isn’t quite in my favour. Instead of casting straight and losing range through drag, I like to direct the cast so that it flies more with the wind. This might mean casting from an unconventional position to get the cast uptide, but providing I have the room, I would rather do this and get the extra few yards than not.
The next cast was with the 7HT and the pulley dropper rig. It was immediately clear to me that the 7HT had a solid edge on the Fathom in the distance department and I was instantly glad that I’d brought it and wished I owned another! It was also apparent to me from my first two chucks and the clear perspective that casting from a shingle bank offers that the time I’d spent tournament casting since January (and all the associated practice) had made a pretty positive difference to my fishing casting as well. I am sure that I had added at least another 20 - 30 yards to the sort of range I had previously been able to fish at from Chesil, if not more. If this isn’t a great advert for the benefits of taking up field casting then I don’t know what is; Chesil is the sort of place where extra yards really can equal extra fish. This boost in distance also worked really well with the way I like to fish for plaice, using plain leads, casting well uptide and letting the end gear tow round and cover a lot of ground, almost presenting the baits like they would be if I was drift fishing from a boat.
My first cast had only sat in the tide for a few minutes before the rod tip began to show signs that something was taking an interest in my baits. I left the inquiry to develop whilst I cast out my other rod and deliberately ignored them both for a short while before having another look. Sure enough, the tip was still giving tell-tale signs and as Roy wandered over for a chat, I wound into the fish. There was weight there but not an awful lot, and I suspected I had attracted the attention of a small plaice. As the leader came into view, the fish made a few determined digs for the bottom and as a wavelet beached it, I could see the familiar brown back sliding up the shingle. The plaice was bigger than I’d anticipated, although it was a bit skinny, and lip-hooked so I was able to return it with the minimum of fuss. At 1lbs 10oz it was a good start and after retrieving another smaller plaice on my second rod, I was starting to think we may have been in for a bumper session. The next casts were sent out with high expectations of more flattie action to come.
As the afternoon wore on though, it became apparent that this wasn’t going to be a fish-a-chuck kind of a day. I added plaice to my catch at the rate of perhaps one an hour, although the stamp of fish was good, with about half of them being comfortably over a pound. The black lug tipped with the white rag was scoring well, although I did catch one or two on plain rag as well. What was surprising was the lack of any other species, normally I would have expected to catch a gurnard or two and perhaps a red mullet. I kept a rod knocked in closer with some blow lug going most of the afternoon looking for a red mullet but it seemed that none were on the feed in our patch. What were around in heavy numbers though were garfish, and after Roy bagged one on a float rig, I set up my own light outfit and baited with a sliver of mackerel in a bid to catch my own Captain Beaky. The gars were all over the float pretty much from touchdown and quickly finding the bait. It didn’t take long before the float was doing little dances and hooked garfish were leaping clear of the water, signalling the beginning of fun battles on light tackle. Roy was keeping a few gars for use as part of his after-dark strategy and I gave him the ones of mine that were deep-hooked.
Up until high water, I had been uptide of Roy and undoubtedly enjoying the better fishing for it. However, as the tide turned and darkness loomed, Roy started to profit from the reversed current and caught a tub gurnard, as well as a plaice and the first of the night’s dogfish. I had already switched on to sole rigs and my first cast into the fading light was met with a quick response. I sat on my hands and let the culprit find the hook before retrieving my gear to find I had not tempted a sole but the biggest plaice of the day at a couple of ounces shy of 2lbs. Roy, however, did manage to find a sole and a pretty nice one too at 1lb 11oz. I persevered on but it seemed the sole were sparse or not hard on the feed as I just couldn’t catch one. Roy did manage another smaller one but, on the whole, the sole fishing was unexpectedly quiet.
The garfish that Roy had been saving throughout the day were to prove a valuable part of our night’s fishing. As the light failed, Roy cut up the gars into bloody chunks and begin tossing them a few yards out into the water. These were intended to attract the attention of a particular favourite species of Roy’s: bass. It’s well-known that bass patrol the water’s edge along the Chesil bank, particularly in mackerel season when they can leisurely cruise around picking off guts and frames thrown in by featherers. It’s a common tactic of Chesil regulars to fish a mackerel head and guts right in close to target these patrolling silver-sides. Roy has had some success in the past doing this, whereas I had tried it a few times and not had anything, so I watched his approach with some interest. The cast was very short and the rod was propped up and left to fish for itself on the ratchet. So far, so good, this is exactly what I had done before when I had tried the method. I rigged up my 4 and Bait with a running leger, 3oz plain lead and a mackerel head on a pennel and lobbed it perhaps 5 yards out from the water’s edge.
After a while Roy shouted over that he had been getting some interest on his bass rod, with a couple of strong runs that he hadn’t connected with. I wound in and rebaited, hoping that the fish in the area would smell my fresh offering and swim in to investigate. As I was concentrating on my other rod tips, I noticed the 4 and Bait buck over and line screeched from the ratchet before everything went slack. I picked up the rod and felt for life but the fish had clearly felt resistance and had dropped the bait. I replaced the mackerel head with a tail section and lobbed out again but the fish had either spooked or passed on as I got no more interest for a while. It actually took some time and quite a few bites before Roy finally sank a hook into one of the fish that had been taking and rejecting his offerings and after hearing his ratchet go, I looked over to see his rod bent nicely into a bass. I quickly scurried over and looked down at the water to see the fish was steaming downtide on a tight line and was angling in towards the beach. I got into position to help land the fish but in the end, my efforts weren’t needed as the bass beached itself and I grabbed it by the gill cover and passed it to Roy. It was a stunning fish in fantastic condition and we both guessed it as being in the 6lbs class. It had swallowed Roy’s hook right down and there was no way it would have survived so after weighing it at 6lbs 12oz, he kept the fish. After heartily congratulating Roy and doing the honours with a few photos, my thoughts quickly turned towards emulating his success and trying to catch a bass of my own.
I returned to my pitch and immediately wound in my bass bait, replacing my shingle-blunted hooks and putting on the head and guts of my juiciest mackerel that I had been keeping back for the right time. I plopped the bait out about five yards or so again and sat back to see what would happen. I didn’t have to wait long before the rod tip showed some little plucks, which I thought might have been mullet. The rod sat still for a while and my attention had drifted before the tip suddenly whacked right over and the ratchet went ballistic as I jumped to my feet. Scooping up the rod, I could feel the fish lunging and I wound down hard, feeling healthy resistance and then little as the bass turned and powered downtide towards me. It wasn’t until it was a couple of yards out that I felt solid contact but by that time, it was too late for the fish as I was able to tumble it onto the shore with a wavelet and carry it to the safety of Roy’s shelter. It was another gorgeous fish, a little smaller than Roy’s but in the same mint condition, broad, plump and full-finned. We had a quick weigh and a photo before I carried the fish back to my shelter, removed the hook and took it down to the water’s edge to let it go. I made a bit of a balls-up of the first release attempt and got my feet soaked trying again, but this time the bass made it past the tiny waves and was soon swimming strongly back out into the clear water. At 5lbs 9oz it was no monster, but it was the first decent bass I’d had from Chesil and the biggest overall that I’d caught in a while so I was delighted.
We fished on for some time after but were pestered by small congers that were swimming into the shallows to investigate our mackerel baits. Out at range, things had gone very quiet with only a few pouting for me and a dogfish or two for Roy. At 2am, I decided to roll out my sleeping bag and get my head down for a bit. I was conscious of the fact that I had to drive home the next evening and I had promised my wife that I would help out with our baby girl through the night when I got back so I needed to get at least some rest! I had planned to get up at 5, but it wasn’t until 7 that I eventually woke and stared sleepily from my makeshift bed as Roy was making his way over to share his news. It turned out that he had caught another bass not long before that had taken a fancy to a ragworm bait on his sole rig. Hooked on a size 4 Aberdeen and 12lb hooklength, he had been forced to take it steady, but he had won out sure enough and beached a fish of exactly 8lbs. This one, unlike the bass we had caught in the night, was a long lean fish and Roy had taken some pictures and a video before returning it. I was made up for him and I had to laugh at the fact that yet again, he had caught a cracking fish whilst I had been asleep!
Once I had sorted myself out and put my soggy shoes back on, I made the morning’s first casts. The wind had died to nothing and the surface of the sea had an oily appearance in the half light. It was deathly cold as it always seems to be on Chesil after a clear night, and I did a bit of stamping around to try and get my blood moving. After a couple of casts, I had a bite which proved to be a plaice of about a pound. This fish had gorged the bait right into its stomach so I kept it, before adding another larger one an hour or so later. At this point we had a decision to make: both pack up, go back to the car and drive to another venue; or I would have to walk back to the car park, put another parking ticket on my vehicle and we could stay at this spot for another day. In the end, we chose to move as both of us were keen to have a go for some gurnard and bream. With these fish in mind, we plumped for a session at the Dragon’s Teeth at Abbotsbury, a spot that we were both familiar with that would offer us improved odds of a few more species. On the way out, we met two groups of anglers with very conflicting reports. One group of lads had not had anything exciting through the night and morning and were heading back to Wales looking a bit nonplussed, and the other group we met were absolutely ecstatic after catching 20 different species, including a 3lb tub gurnard and a near-double-figure cod. The second report really fired us up and my box seemed about a stone lighter as the anticipation of similarly awesome fishing carried me along the path and up the bank.
As it turned out, we were quickly brought back down to earth with a bump; the fishing was slow and apart from a few plaice, four red gurnards and a solitary black bream between us (along with some gars and mackerel) we both spent most of the day staring at still rod tips as most of the fish came in a short flurry just before high water. The call was made to pack up an hour early as both of us were suffering from extremely sore hands, making changing baits an excruciating task. I have experienced this many times before at Chesil, I think it must be something to do with the long hours of fishing and focus on juicy baits like worm and crab that does it. The fishing had been pretty poor, certainly, and a sudden change in the weather as the wind picked up had made things less comfortable, but I had enjoyed my day on the whole. Fishing Chesil is always a pleasure and one that I fully intend to enjoy at least once more before the end of the year, hopefully with cod in mind. We made the drive back to Cornwall, fuelled by a quick stop for energy drinks and junk food, arriving back in Newquay around 10pm. My popularity in my household was boosted somewhat by having a bagful of tasty plaice and gurnard for tea the following night, and I managed to keep my promise to my wife and helped her with the baby through the small hours.
Once again, Chesil had left me with an experience and memories that I will look back on and treasure in years to come. I particularly enjoy fishing like this that has some aspect of adventure to it, adding extra layers of fun beyond just the angling itself. Despite Chesil as a whole being superficially quite familiar to me now after visiting it perhaps fifteen or so times, I feel like the vibe of fishing it is different almost every trip and there is so much to learn about the various marks and their moods and subtleties. I think this is one of the things that keeps me coming back for more, the fascination of not really understanding how and why a place works, but gradually learning snippets and putting together the puzzle one or two pieces at a time.
As well as a few bits of fishing gen, one really key realisation was made on this trip: I want another 7HT Mag! I think it had been a while since I had fully appreciated the difference a racier reel makes to the top end of my casting range. I definitely felt that the extra distance I was getting with this reel (which was also helped some by using a slightly thinner diameter line than I had on my other reels) made a difference to my catch rate on the plaice. It’s a great tool for maximum range fishing and I prefer the feel of it to competitors like the Abu 6500 series and the Akios reels that I’ve used. The only drawback with the 7HT Mag is the price, with the cost of a brand new one definitely more than I would want to be paying for something I’m not going to be using week in, week out. Once I have the money together (which may take some time on current form!) I will be watching the second hand market like a hawk. Hopefully I’ll be able to pick up a tidy example for the right price.
For video footage of our West Bexington session, check out: https://youtu.be/EmwjcdwMF7Y
I always look forward to a trip to Chesil; the many famous venues spread out across the titanic tombolo can all offer great fishing at the right times of year, and the big-fish pedigree of the beach as a whole is beyond question. As well as being a place where dreams of hefty specimens can come true, Chesil also offers a fantastic variety of species to go at, particularly at this time of year when the summer and winter species can overlap. It was the chance of catching a selection of these species that was the real draw for me to leave my home range of Cornwall and head to Dorset for two days. It was fitting that on this trip, I would be joined by the guy who I’d first fished Chesil with four years ago; my friend Roy. Roy is a big fan of the big beach and is as keen on species-orientated fishing as I am. He is also a prolific catcher of fish big and small and, as previous trips had shown, he can fish long past my tiredness barrier. More than once I have fallen asleep after a long session and woken up to Roy happily reeling off all the decent fish he’s caught whilst I’ve been in the land of nod. The bottom line is that you’d be crazy to bet against Roy catching anything that swims; the man is a fish magnet. I was hoping that his mystical powers of attraction would also benefit me, and at least some fish looking for his bait would stumble over mine instead.
I had already made up my mind that the first area to tackle was going to be West Bexington. This stretch would hopefully give us the chance of great flatfish fishing, whilst also bringing the possibility of fish like cod, ray and bass to the table. One of the main targets would be dover sole; I had done quite well with these muscular mud-lovers a couple of years previously and was keen to renew my acquaintance with them. In a bid to virtually guarantee the attention of a hunting sole, I had done a little digging at a local estuary and gathered about a hundred white ragworm, which I split between Roy and myself. In previous sessions I had found that sole appear to be just as smitten with the pearly white polychaetes as plaice are and I was certain that a cocktail of a section of black lug tipped with half a white rag would prove to be the undoing of at least one tasty specimen.
After an early morning meet and a hassle-free drive, we rolled into West Bay to buy a few king rag from the angling centre there. I wasn’t entirely sure that we needed the king rag as we both had a good supply of fresh black lug, along with the whites, but I had a feeling that if I didn’t get some, I may find myself wishing that I had. This was added to our bait arsenal, which also included copious amounts of frozen squid along with a few frozen mackerel and the odd pack of sandeels. The short drive on to West Bexington was spent discussing the rival merits of heading to the east or to the west of the car park there. A couple of years before, I had enjoyed great fishing heading to the west and fishing an area somewhere between West Bexington and Cogden. I remembered the spot well and I felt confident that, if the clay beds were still as prominent there, it would produce the goods for us. The alternative was to head to the east and fish a more popular mark that had recently thrown up some good fish. I had fished this spot a few times before and found it not quite as productive for me, although I did suspect that it probably offered slightly better odds of a cod or ray. Ultimately, we headed to the west, assuming that the less-popular spot would give us a better chance of finding some fish to ourselves.
The conditions were beautiful, a light cross-shore wind was ruffling the surface of the water whilst the sun warmed the shingle around us and glinted off the clear water. Personally, I’m always happy to see at least a slight ripple on the ocean. I tend to feel that even with species that favour calm and clear seas, a little bit of disturbance on the surface breaking up the light pattern is likely to encourage them feed more confidently and improve the fishing. I was confident that we would find at least a few plaice through the day and I prepared my usual rigs; a long pulley dropper style with some green and black beads on the hooklength, and a two-hook clipped rig with a floating bead on the top snood.
I was slightly nervous about the blue 7HT as it had been a bit frisky last time I’d cast it. I clipped on a 6oz lead, turned the dial to ‘7’ and sent out a cast. The reel purred like a happy tabby and although the spool seeming to slow a little prematurely, the sinker flew a pleasing distance out into the sparkling waters. I figured I could get away with a bit less mag power and turned down to ‘6’ before trying again. This time, the reel didn’t seem to hold back at all and the whole cast felt free. It seemed I had found the sweet spot and I didn’t touch the mag dial again for the next 30 or so hours.
My first cast was with my regular first-choice reel, a magged Penn Fathom 15. On the business end was the two hook rig baited with black lug tipped with white rag, which would be carried by a 6oz plain lead. Noting the wind coming over my right shoulder, I opted to angle the cast slightly so that the trajectory wouldn’t fight the breeze too much. I find this is a useful ploy at places like Chesil if the wind isn’t quite in my favour. Instead of casting straight and losing range through drag, I like to direct the cast so that it flies more with the wind. This might mean casting from an unconventional position to get the cast uptide, but providing I have the room, I would rather do this and get the extra few yards than not.
The next cast was with the 7HT and the pulley dropper rig. It was immediately clear to me that the 7HT had a solid edge on the Fathom in the distance department and I was instantly glad that I’d brought it and wished I owned another! It was also apparent to me from my first two chucks and the clear perspective that casting from a shingle bank offers that the time I’d spent tournament casting since January (and all the associated practice) had made a pretty positive difference to my fishing casting as well. I am sure that I had added at least another 20 - 30 yards to the sort of range I had previously been able to fish at from Chesil, if not more. If this isn’t a great advert for the benefits of taking up field casting then I don’t know what is; Chesil is the sort of place where extra yards really can equal extra fish. This boost in distance also worked really well with the way I like to fish for plaice, using plain leads, casting well uptide and letting the end gear tow round and cover a lot of ground, almost presenting the baits like they would be if I was drift fishing from a boat.
My first cast had only sat in the tide for a few minutes before the rod tip began to show signs that something was taking an interest in my baits. I left the inquiry to develop whilst I cast out my other rod and deliberately ignored them both for a short while before having another look. Sure enough, the tip was still giving tell-tale signs and as Roy wandered over for a chat, I wound into the fish. There was weight there but not an awful lot, and I suspected I had attracted the attention of a small plaice. As the leader came into view, the fish made a few determined digs for the bottom and as a wavelet beached it, I could see the familiar brown back sliding up the shingle. The plaice was bigger than I’d anticipated, although it was a bit skinny, and lip-hooked so I was able to return it with the minimum of fuss. At 1lbs 10oz it was a good start and after retrieving another smaller plaice on my second rod, I was starting to think we may have been in for a bumper session. The next casts were sent out with high expectations of more flattie action to come.
As the afternoon wore on though, it became apparent that this wasn’t going to be a fish-a-chuck kind of a day. I added plaice to my catch at the rate of perhaps one an hour, although the stamp of fish was good, with about half of them being comfortably over a pound. The black lug tipped with the white rag was scoring well, although I did catch one or two on plain rag as well. What was surprising was the lack of any other species, normally I would have expected to catch a gurnard or two and perhaps a red mullet. I kept a rod knocked in closer with some blow lug going most of the afternoon looking for a red mullet but it seemed that none were on the feed in our patch. What were around in heavy numbers though were garfish, and after Roy bagged one on a float rig, I set up my own light outfit and baited with a sliver of mackerel in a bid to catch my own Captain Beaky. The gars were all over the float pretty much from touchdown and quickly finding the bait. It didn’t take long before the float was doing little dances and hooked garfish were leaping clear of the water, signalling the beginning of fun battles on light tackle. Roy was keeping a few gars for use as part of his after-dark strategy and I gave him the ones of mine that were deep-hooked.
Up until high water, I had been uptide of Roy and undoubtedly enjoying the better fishing for it. However, as the tide turned and darkness loomed, Roy started to profit from the reversed current and caught a tub gurnard, as well as a plaice and the first of the night’s dogfish. I had already switched on to sole rigs and my first cast into the fading light was met with a quick response. I sat on my hands and let the culprit find the hook before retrieving my gear to find I had not tempted a sole but the biggest plaice of the day at a couple of ounces shy of 2lbs. Roy, however, did manage to find a sole and a pretty nice one too at 1lb 11oz. I persevered on but it seemed the sole were sparse or not hard on the feed as I just couldn’t catch one. Roy did manage another smaller one but, on the whole, the sole fishing was unexpectedly quiet.
The garfish that Roy had been saving throughout the day were to prove a valuable part of our night’s fishing. As the light failed, Roy cut up the gars into bloody chunks and begin tossing them a few yards out into the water. These were intended to attract the attention of a particular favourite species of Roy’s: bass. It’s well-known that bass patrol the water’s edge along the Chesil bank, particularly in mackerel season when they can leisurely cruise around picking off guts and frames thrown in by featherers. It’s a common tactic of Chesil regulars to fish a mackerel head and guts right in close to target these patrolling silver-sides. Roy has had some success in the past doing this, whereas I had tried it a few times and not had anything, so I watched his approach with some interest. The cast was very short and the rod was propped up and left to fish for itself on the ratchet. So far, so good, this is exactly what I had done before when I had tried the method. I rigged up my 4 and Bait with a running leger, 3oz plain lead and a mackerel head on a pennel and lobbed it perhaps 5 yards out from the water’s edge.
After a while Roy shouted over that he had been getting some interest on his bass rod, with a couple of strong runs that he hadn’t connected with. I wound in and rebaited, hoping that the fish in the area would smell my fresh offering and swim in to investigate. As I was concentrating on my other rod tips, I noticed the 4 and Bait buck over and line screeched from the ratchet before everything went slack. I picked up the rod and felt for life but the fish had clearly felt resistance and had dropped the bait. I replaced the mackerel head with a tail section and lobbed out again but the fish had either spooked or passed on as I got no more interest for a while. It actually took some time and quite a few bites before Roy finally sank a hook into one of the fish that had been taking and rejecting his offerings and after hearing his ratchet go, I looked over to see his rod bent nicely into a bass. I quickly scurried over and looked down at the water to see the fish was steaming downtide on a tight line and was angling in towards the beach. I got into position to help land the fish but in the end, my efforts weren’t needed as the bass beached itself and I grabbed it by the gill cover and passed it to Roy. It was a stunning fish in fantastic condition and we both guessed it as being in the 6lbs class. It had swallowed Roy’s hook right down and there was no way it would have survived so after weighing it at 6lbs 12oz, he kept the fish. After heartily congratulating Roy and doing the honours with a few photos, my thoughts quickly turned towards emulating his success and trying to catch a bass of my own.
I returned to my pitch and immediately wound in my bass bait, replacing my shingle-blunted hooks and putting on the head and guts of my juiciest mackerel that I had been keeping back for the right time. I plopped the bait out about five yards or so again and sat back to see what would happen. I didn’t have to wait long before the rod tip showed some little plucks, which I thought might have been mullet. The rod sat still for a while and my attention had drifted before the tip suddenly whacked right over and the ratchet went ballistic as I jumped to my feet. Scooping up the rod, I could feel the fish lunging and I wound down hard, feeling healthy resistance and then little as the bass turned and powered downtide towards me. It wasn’t until it was a couple of yards out that I felt solid contact but by that time, it was too late for the fish as I was able to tumble it onto the shore with a wavelet and carry it to the safety of Roy’s shelter. It was another gorgeous fish, a little smaller than Roy’s but in the same mint condition, broad, plump and full-finned. We had a quick weigh and a photo before I carried the fish back to my shelter, removed the hook and took it down to the water’s edge to let it go. I made a bit of a balls-up of the first release attempt and got my feet soaked trying again, but this time the bass made it past the tiny waves and was soon swimming strongly back out into the clear water. At 5lbs 9oz it was no monster, but it was the first decent bass I’d had from Chesil and the biggest overall that I’d caught in a while so I was delighted.
We fished on for some time after but were pestered by small congers that were swimming into the shallows to investigate our mackerel baits. Out at range, things had gone very quiet with only a few pouting for me and a dogfish or two for Roy. At 2am, I decided to roll out my sleeping bag and get my head down for a bit. I was conscious of the fact that I had to drive home the next evening and I had promised my wife that I would help out with our baby girl through the night when I got back so I needed to get at least some rest! I had planned to get up at 5, but it wasn’t until 7 that I eventually woke and stared sleepily from my makeshift bed as Roy was making his way over to share his news. It turned out that he had caught another bass not long before that had taken a fancy to a ragworm bait on his sole rig. Hooked on a size 4 Aberdeen and 12lb hooklength, he had been forced to take it steady, but he had won out sure enough and beached a fish of exactly 8lbs. This one, unlike the bass we had caught in the night, was a long lean fish and Roy had taken some pictures and a video before returning it. I was made up for him and I had to laugh at the fact that yet again, he had caught a cracking fish whilst I had been asleep!
Once I had sorted myself out and put my soggy shoes back on, I made the morning’s first casts. The wind had died to nothing and the surface of the sea had an oily appearance in the half light. It was deathly cold as it always seems to be on Chesil after a clear night, and I did a bit of stamping around to try and get my blood moving. After a couple of casts, I had a bite which proved to be a plaice of about a pound. This fish had gorged the bait right into its stomach so I kept it, before adding another larger one an hour or so later. At this point we had a decision to make: both pack up, go back to the car and drive to another venue; or I would have to walk back to the car park, put another parking ticket on my vehicle and we could stay at this spot for another day. In the end, we chose to move as both of us were keen to have a go for some gurnard and bream. With these fish in mind, we plumped for a session at the Dragon’s Teeth at Abbotsbury, a spot that we were both familiar with that would offer us improved odds of a few more species. On the way out, we met two groups of anglers with very conflicting reports. One group of lads had not had anything exciting through the night and morning and were heading back to Wales looking a bit nonplussed, and the other group we met were absolutely ecstatic after catching 20 different species, including a 3lb tub gurnard and a near-double-figure cod. The second report really fired us up and my box seemed about a stone lighter as the anticipation of similarly awesome fishing carried me along the path and up the bank.
As it turned out, we were quickly brought back down to earth with a bump; the fishing was slow and apart from a few plaice, four red gurnards and a solitary black bream between us (along with some gars and mackerel) we both spent most of the day staring at still rod tips as most of the fish came in a short flurry just before high water. The call was made to pack up an hour early as both of us were suffering from extremely sore hands, making changing baits an excruciating task. I have experienced this many times before at Chesil, I think it must be something to do with the long hours of fishing and focus on juicy baits like worm and crab that does it. The fishing had been pretty poor, certainly, and a sudden change in the weather as the wind picked up had made things less comfortable, but I had enjoyed my day on the whole. Fishing Chesil is always a pleasure and one that I fully intend to enjoy at least once more before the end of the year, hopefully with cod in mind. We made the drive back to Cornwall, fuelled by a quick stop for energy drinks and junk food, arriving back in Newquay around 10pm. My popularity in my household was boosted somewhat by having a bagful of tasty plaice and gurnard for tea the following night, and I managed to keep my promise to my wife and helped her with the baby through the small hours.
Once again, Chesil had left me with an experience and memories that I will look back on and treasure in years to come. I particularly enjoy fishing like this that has some aspect of adventure to it, adding extra layers of fun beyond just the angling itself. Despite Chesil as a whole being superficially quite familiar to me now after visiting it perhaps fifteen or so times, I feel like the vibe of fishing it is different almost every trip and there is so much to learn about the various marks and their moods and subtleties. I think this is one of the things that keeps me coming back for more, the fascination of not really understanding how and why a place works, but gradually learning snippets and putting together the puzzle one or two pieces at a time.
As well as a few bits of fishing gen, one really key realisation was made on this trip: I want another 7HT Mag! I think it had been a while since I had fully appreciated the difference a racier reel makes to the top end of my casting range. I definitely felt that the extra distance I was getting with this reel (which was also helped some by using a slightly thinner diameter line than I had on my other reels) made a difference to my catch rate on the plaice. It’s a great tool for maximum range fishing and I prefer the feel of it to competitors like the Abu 6500 series and the Akios reels that I’ve used. The only drawback with the 7HT Mag is the price, with the cost of a brand new one definitely more than I would want to be paying for something I’m not going to be using week in, week out. Once I have the money together (which may take some time on current form!) I will be watching the second hand market like a hawk. Hopefully I’ll be able to pick up a tidy example for the right price.
For video footage of our West Bexington session, check out: https://youtu.be/EmwjcdwMF7Y