Rock Lobster!
Tricky to follow on from that new personal best Spurdog in the week but not every trip is going produce monsters, this time the plan was to take it down a notch and try for some of our smallest sea fish, Lenny the Blenny and Toby the Goby. Most people have run into this pair of guys as children while out dipping nets in rock pools, its these bad boys that dart off as you approach but secretly they control the tidal ponds with a voracious appetite and an equally aggressive manner to outsiders. I need both the Goby and the Blenny for my challenge and there are a several species of both none of them growing very large so butt pads and harnesses were not required. This expedition was one for the pen rods coupled with size 18 hooks and maggots, a floating bead acted as my indicator. We chose a North Cornwall beach mark based on the fact that Chris had caught some type of small fish from a rock pool at this spot when he was 9, on hindsight maybe some more up to date info could have been an advantage. So we arrived at the beach with the tide falling for a further 2 hours, this is the safest way knowing that you are not going be cut off and providing you stick to these times. The weather conditions were bright and sunny but with a bitter North Easterly wind, it was time to cover all exposed skin.
The beach was nice and easy to traverse, so too was the broken stones punctuated by the odd seaweed covered boulder, the weed covered rocks however were lethal like green ice. I think it was about the third group of rocks that had been on my backside with a crash, although the abundant seaweed acted like a slimy airbag cushioning my fall if not my dignity. Chris not far behind asked " is it slippery mate"? my curt reply was " no mate I was just checking I could still get my feet above my head at short notice"! It should at this point be pointed out as an issue of safety, don't go climbing over slippery rocks unless accompanied by a responsible adult. I had made the mistake of taking someone who after witnessing a painful slip would first use his phone to film the incident to claim £250 from Harry Hill. Luckily no damage was done and we yomped onwards looking for the honey hole, the perfect lair of the rock pool mafia.
Despite searching dozens of likely looking pools and dropping a variety of tasty morsels into them not so much as an anemone moved, I know now that the winter rock pools contain the same as Chris's tacklebox, nothing but saltwater. So it was now heading towards the afternoon and I needed a plan B and C, plan B was simple create something in the sand to make it worth travelling to the beach for, there really was only one option "Rock Lobster"! While Chris became smaller and smaller disappearing amongst the moonlike surface of the foreshore I started a mini construction project, creating my very own Rock Lobster a tribute to one of my favourite bands the B52s or in this case B-fishty 2s.
Once I had got that act of total frustration out of my system Chris arrived and after scratching his head for a bit and looking at my creation he enquired had I caught anything, " no mate but I did make a Rock Lobster"! I knew the B52s really weren't Chris's genre but I could tell he thought I had made better use of the last 30 minutes than he had. So I broke plan C to him which involved straddling the weed and rock obstacle course back to the car and heading to the lakes to try and catch a few Rudd to save the day. I was confident in getting a few Rudd fairly quickly and I hadn't had one for my challenge yet so that's where we headed. It didn't seem long and we were on the top lake scattering handfuls of maggots across the surface in the hope to attract a shoal of the plentiful little fish. The small float darted under and the first Rudd saved the day, and also became my species number 17, within an hour I landed a net full of the greedy little tykes. Chris was having the same results but added a Skimmer Bream to his own list.
We only planned a short day as we were going to fish around the last 2 hrs of the ebb tide so before we knew it the afternoon was over. We still had a great few hours by saltwater and fresh, and at the very least it beats sitting in front of the box, I also learned some important lessons. Goby's and Blenny's don't live in rock pools all the time, your never to old to play in the sand, a clump of seaweed may not protect your rump as much as you had hoped it would and finally its never over till its over!
