In the sea angling world, Loe Bar is undoubtedly Cornwall’s most famous beach, if not its most well-known venue. Many specimen fish and numerous county records have been caught there through the years and its reputation precedes it as the sort of place where an angler stands a chance of capturing the fish of their dreams.
I first visited the Bar through April 2012 hoping to catch plaice. I fished 2 or 3 sessions at different stages of the tide but caught a grand total of no plaice; in fact, I didn’t catch anything at all. I remember being a bit underwhelmed by my results (at this stage in my fishing, I hadn’t fully made the distinction between venues that have produced certain species, and venues that are producing them), but I found that I really enjoyed fishing the beach and wanted to find out more about it.
Through the year, I talked to as many people who were prepared to volunteer information about the Bar as I could and after a while, patterns began to emerge. Almost everyone I spoke to was quick to highlight the danger that Loe Bar presented when a significant swell was hitting the beach. Warnings of mammoth shore dumps that would swallow up an unwary angler and the perils of straying too close to the sea to cast were a recurring theme. Also common were advice against fishing through the day and in settled seas. Ideal conditions were generally agreed to constitute a dark night with a fair swell breaking on the shingle.
With this information in mind, I began to sporadically visit the Bar throughout the autumn and early winter, generally aiming to fish rough nights. I found fish much easier to come by on these trips and the beach seemed to offer good mixed fishing with a healthy range of possible species. However, I did begin to encounter the element that can make or break a session at the Bar. During stormy conditions, masses of various weed quickly appears along the length of the beach. By far the most troublesome of these are detached kelp stalks that can gather in large quantities among the assorted weed and debris. Once a kelp stalk finds its way onto a line, it seems to instantly tangle with little chance of it finding its own way loose. Caught in the shore dump, the inevitable outcome is either a snapped or, at best, a badly damaged mainline.
I experimented with different ways of tackling this problem. Directly avoiding the kelp stalks was often impossible, sometimes a swift move up or down the beach would help for a short while but generally, once the kelp was there and getting hung on the line, continuing to fish was more or less a waste of time. On one of my sessions, I noticed that although the kelp was a pain up until high water, directly after high and for most of the ebb, the kelp was much less problematic. I subsequently began to fish all my sessions there on the ebbing tide and, ideally, when the wind had switched to a cross or offshore direction. This helped immeasurably and although I still encounter the dreaded kelp stalks from time to time, most of my sessions there pass without wrecking too much line and losing gear.
With the technical issues mostly sorted out, I began to be more successful, although my catches almost always consisted of large bags of smaller fish. Whiting, pouting, poor cod and small Pollack featured consistently, along with the inevitable dogfish and school bass. However, information I gathered from the web and word of mouth pointed to potential for big small-eyed ray, good catches of cod and codling and the possibility of a large conger eel. I caught nothing that memorable during the ‘12/’13 winter, although I enjoyed the fishing there and felt like I was making headway with the venue.
I began to fish the Bar in earnest again in the late autumn of 2013 and in November, I realised why people had told me to expect the odd surprise when one night I caught a haddock of 2lb 14oz. Unfortunately, this fish was one of the ugliest I have ever seen, the area where its right eye should have been just an open festering wound. Still, that fish represented a major achievement to me, being the second fish that I had caught that would have been a county record at the time. I felt like my faith in the venue had been vindicated and I began to fish with greater confidence there.
The fishing continued to improve through December and January with the storms keeping the commercial boats in port and the breaks in the weather offering frenzied fishing with good whiting and some cracking dabs the prizes. January, in particular, was excellent and although I only managed a couple of trips in that month, I caught well with a couple of 1lb+ dabs, some plump whiting and my first small-eyed ray from the beach. Other anglers made some outstanding catches that month with big ray, jumbo dabs and oddities like coalfish and haddock to boot.
Still, in all the fishing I had done there (and I had made something like a good 20 odd trips by this point), something was missing. I had not caught cod of any size from Loe Bar. This wasn’t surprising as in the timeframe I had been going there, there really hadn’t been any significant runs of cod that I was aware of. However, 2014 was different and with good numbers of codling showing from late summer onwards, I made the trip down to the Bar in the last days of August as I had also heard of some nice ray coming out. What followed was one of my more memorable sessions at the venue to date, with ten species caught and a ray of 8.12 the best fish. Although the codling I caught were on the smallish side, subsequent sessions yielded improved sizes and numbers with several trips giving upwards of a dozen codling to two and a half pounds.
That brings me more or less up to date and having fished there for a good while now, I feel that I can meaningfully discuss some of the popular myth surrounding the place. Firstly, the oft-quoted comparison between Loe Bar and Chesil Beach. I have made about ten visits to Chesil, mostly fishing between West Bexington and Ferrybridge and, for me at least, the physical likeness ends with the fact that they are both shelving shingle beaches. The pebble ramparts of Chesil are a completely different proposition and fishing experience to a session at Cornwall’s supposed equivalent. I have never encountered lateral tide run at the Bar comparable to that anglers are commonly faced with at Chesil. Also, Loe Bar generally fishes more like a shelving storm beach and generally requires a disturbed sea to fish well, whereas Chesil can produce on the brightest, flattest day. The Bar also seems to lack any of the variations in substrate (mud, peat, gravel etc.) which give many of the venues along Chesil their individual character. There appear to be just two substrates at Loe Bar, the coarse sand/shingle that the lower part of the beach is composed of and the rough ground at either extremity.
Having said that, there is likeness in the general nature of the two beaches; both are capable of producing a wide variety of species and have the very real potential to throw up surprises. Both can also be cruelly unfishable when the conditions are too edgy.
Next on the menu, Loe Bar’s reputation as a big fish venue. Apart from a few small-eyed ray (which I have not found to be that common a capture at all), the biggest fish I have caught from the Bar is a bull huss of about 4lbs. I haven’t caught a conger there much longer than my forearm. I haven’t had a bass, pollack or codling much over 3lbs. This is certainly not for lack of trying, my standard tactics involve at least one of my rods fishing a large bait, if not both at times.
There is no doubt that Loe Bar used to and can still produce some exceptional specimen fish. Year on year, the venue produces double figure ray. However, there are more consistent ray venues in the same area. The Bar is most popularly known (and cited in the angling media) as being a venue that produces good cod. This may well still be the case if and when there are enough decent cod around to catch. My fingers are crossed for next winter when hopefully enough of this year’s prolific run of codling will survive to give a fighting chance of a 6-8lb cod from the beach.
Thirdly, the need to fish the Bar in dangerous conditions. Many people will say that they feel the Bar gives its best when it is bordering on unfishable. I have generally found myself doing better in a dying sea where the shore dump is significant enough to keep the ‘washing machine’ effect going but not so much so that the fishing becomes technically too difficult. After a storm, I will generally wait until the swell drops to (ideally) the 3-4 foot mark before embarking on a trip. When you consider that a cubic metre of seawater weighs about a ton, there is still plenty enough sea to continue disturbing and dislodging food items and keep the fishes interest. Keeping a respectful distance from the water, these conditions generally necessitate a cast of approximately 75 yards to get comfortably clear of the shore dump, which should be within the reach of most anglers. I have fished in swells of 6’ plus on one or two occasions, but have not found the standard of fishing to be any better and have found it almost impossible to fish two rods without the lines crossing. Some anglers fish their rods out of sand spikes to combat this problem, but I have yet to try this.
Ultimately, Loe Bar is a place that I fish more because I like fishing there and because it captures my imagination rather than because I believe I will catch a hatful of specimen fish from it. No question, that can and does happen, but I humbly suggest that it is a longer shot than the venue’s reputation would lead you to believe. Granted, my opinion is disadvantaged by not having witnessed the Bar churning out good fish in years past, but I feel it is an accurate reflection of how the place performs nowadays.
I first visited the Bar through April 2012 hoping to catch plaice. I fished 2 or 3 sessions at different stages of the tide but caught a grand total of no plaice; in fact, I didn’t catch anything at all. I remember being a bit underwhelmed by my results (at this stage in my fishing, I hadn’t fully made the distinction between venues that have produced certain species, and venues that are producing them), but I found that I really enjoyed fishing the beach and wanted to find out more about it.
Through the year, I talked to as many people who were prepared to volunteer information about the Bar as I could and after a while, patterns began to emerge. Almost everyone I spoke to was quick to highlight the danger that Loe Bar presented when a significant swell was hitting the beach. Warnings of mammoth shore dumps that would swallow up an unwary angler and the perils of straying too close to the sea to cast were a recurring theme. Also common were advice against fishing through the day and in settled seas. Ideal conditions were generally agreed to constitute a dark night with a fair swell breaking on the shingle.
With this information in mind, I began to sporadically visit the Bar throughout the autumn and early winter, generally aiming to fish rough nights. I found fish much easier to come by on these trips and the beach seemed to offer good mixed fishing with a healthy range of possible species. However, I did begin to encounter the element that can make or break a session at the Bar. During stormy conditions, masses of various weed quickly appears along the length of the beach. By far the most troublesome of these are detached kelp stalks that can gather in large quantities among the assorted weed and debris. Once a kelp stalk finds its way onto a line, it seems to instantly tangle with little chance of it finding its own way loose. Caught in the shore dump, the inevitable outcome is either a snapped or, at best, a badly damaged mainline.
I experimented with different ways of tackling this problem. Directly avoiding the kelp stalks was often impossible, sometimes a swift move up or down the beach would help for a short while but generally, once the kelp was there and getting hung on the line, continuing to fish was more or less a waste of time. On one of my sessions, I noticed that although the kelp was a pain up until high water, directly after high and for most of the ebb, the kelp was much less problematic. I subsequently began to fish all my sessions there on the ebbing tide and, ideally, when the wind had switched to a cross or offshore direction. This helped immeasurably and although I still encounter the dreaded kelp stalks from time to time, most of my sessions there pass without wrecking too much line and losing gear.
With the technical issues mostly sorted out, I began to be more successful, although my catches almost always consisted of large bags of smaller fish. Whiting, pouting, poor cod and small Pollack featured consistently, along with the inevitable dogfish and school bass. However, information I gathered from the web and word of mouth pointed to potential for big small-eyed ray, good catches of cod and codling and the possibility of a large conger eel. I caught nothing that memorable during the ‘12/’13 winter, although I enjoyed the fishing there and felt like I was making headway with the venue.
I began to fish the Bar in earnest again in the late autumn of 2013 and in November, I realised why people had told me to expect the odd surprise when one night I caught a haddock of 2lb 14oz. Unfortunately, this fish was one of the ugliest I have ever seen, the area where its right eye should have been just an open festering wound. Still, that fish represented a major achievement to me, being the second fish that I had caught that would have been a county record at the time. I felt like my faith in the venue had been vindicated and I began to fish with greater confidence there.
The fishing continued to improve through December and January with the storms keeping the commercial boats in port and the breaks in the weather offering frenzied fishing with good whiting and some cracking dabs the prizes. January, in particular, was excellent and although I only managed a couple of trips in that month, I caught well with a couple of 1lb+ dabs, some plump whiting and my first small-eyed ray from the beach. Other anglers made some outstanding catches that month with big ray, jumbo dabs and oddities like coalfish and haddock to boot.
Still, in all the fishing I had done there (and I had made something like a good 20 odd trips by this point), something was missing. I had not caught cod of any size from Loe Bar. This wasn’t surprising as in the timeframe I had been going there, there really hadn’t been any significant runs of cod that I was aware of. However, 2014 was different and with good numbers of codling showing from late summer onwards, I made the trip down to the Bar in the last days of August as I had also heard of some nice ray coming out. What followed was one of my more memorable sessions at the venue to date, with ten species caught and a ray of 8.12 the best fish. Although the codling I caught were on the smallish side, subsequent sessions yielded improved sizes and numbers with several trips giving upwards of a dozen codling to two and a half pounds.
That brings me more or less up to date and having fished there for a good while now, I feel that I can meaningfully discuss some of the popular myth surrounding the place. Firstly, the oft-quoted comparison between Loe Bar and Chesil Beach. I have made about ten visits to Chesil, mostly fishing between West Bexington and Ferrybridge and, for me at least, the physical likeness ends with the fact that they are both shelving shingle beaches. The pebble ramparts of Chesil are a completely different proposition and fishing experience to a session at Cornwall’s supposed equivalent. I have never encountered lateral tide run at the Bar comparable to that anglers are commonly faced with at Chesil. Also, Loe Bar generally fishes more like a shelving storm beach and generally requires a disturbed sea to fish well, whereas Chesil can produce on the brightest, flattest day. The Bar also seems to lack any of the variations in substrate (mud, peat, gravel etc.) which give many of the venues along Chesil their individual character. There appear to be just two substrates at Loe Bar, the coarse sand/shingle that the lower part of the beach is composed of and the rough ground at either extremity.
Having said that, there is likeness in the general nature of the two beaches; both are capable of producing a wide variety of species and have the very real potential to throw up surprises. Both can also be cruelly unfishable when the conditions are too edgy.
Next on the menu, Loe Bar’s reputation as a big fish venue. Apart from a few small-eyed ray (which I have not found to be that common a capture at all), the biggest fish I have caught from the Bar is a bull huss of about 4lbs. I haven’t caught a conger there much longer than my forearm. I haven’t had a bass, pollack or codling much over 3lbs. This is certainly not for lack of trying, my standard tactics involve at least one of my rods fishing a large bait, if not both at times.
There is no doubt that Loe Bar used to and can still produce some exceptional specimen fish. Year on year, the venue produces double figure ray. However, there are more consistent ray venues in the same area. The Bar is most popularly known (and cited in the angling media) as being a venue that produces good cod. This may well still be the case if and when there are enough decent cod around to catch. My fingers are crossed for next winter when hopefully enough of this year’s prolific run of codling will survive to give a fighting chance of a 6-8lb cod from the beach.
Thirdly, the need to fish the Bar in dangerous conditions. Many people will say that they feel the Bar gives its best when it is bordering on unfishable. I have generally found myself doing better in a dying sea where the shore dump is significant enough to keep the ‘washing machine’ effect going but not so much so that the fishing becomes technically too difficult. After a storm, I will generally wait until the swell drops to (ideally) the 3-4 foot mark before embarking on a trip. When you consider that a cubic metre of seawater weighs about a ton, there is still plenty enough sea to continue disturbing and dislodging food items and keep the fishes interest. Keeping a respectful distance from the water, these conditions generally necessitate a cast of approximately 75 yards to get comfortably clear of the shore dump, which should be within the reach of most anglers. I have fished in swells of 6’ plus on one or two occasions, but have not found the standard of fishing to be any better and have found it almost impossible to fish two rods without the lines crossing. Some anglers fish their rods out of sand spikes to combat this problem, but I have yet to try this.
Ultimately, Loe Bar is a place that I fish more because I like fishing there and because it captures my imagination rather than because I believe I will catch a hatful of specimen fish from it. No question, that can and does happen, but I humbly suggest that it is a longer shot than the venue’s reputation would lead you to believe. Granted, my opinion is disadvantaged by not having witnessed the Bar churning out good fish in years past, but I feel it is an accurate reflection of how the place performs nowadays.
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