Small Boat Fishing - The Three Amigo's
Sometimes fishing trips turn out to be not so good. On other occasions they are run of the mill. And sometimes they even exceed expectations on the day. Then every so often one comes along where all the pieces of the jigsaw fall effortlessly together resulting in a day so outstandingly good that it gets remembered and talked about for many years to come. Sadly, top draw days like that are thin on the ground. On the other hand, if they were more numerous, perhaps they would not stand out so well from the rest, though like most anglers, I think I could live with that. Over the years I've had my share of red letter days. But in dinghy terms, certainly in recent times, none come anywhere near one particular day that Dave Devine, Charlie Pitchers and myself spent on the Firth of Lorne.
We'd made the long trek north to Lochaline many times in the past with mixed fortunes along the way. I can't remember a visit where we blanked, but some days had been a struggle with the weather, the cold, the depth, and everything else that goes with fishing in these parts. Common skate fishing is never going to produce wall to wall action. You know that before you set out. But what it lacks in terms of numbers of fish, it most certainly makes up for in size, which if you only do it once a year, is something we at least never tire of. What we tend to do is keep an eye on the weather looking for a suitably settled window to get up there, spend two days fishing, then travel back. Our aim has always been to try wherever possible to combine this with the Easter break which coincides with some of the best fishing. Unfortunately, bank holidays and good weather rarely seem to coincide. But in 2007 they did, and we were quick to get on the road.
The aim when fishing the Mull area is always to get down into the Firth of Lorne. That's where the biggest fish and best concentrations appear to be. The reason why we favour Lochaline over Oban as a base is availability of some sheltered fishing when conditions are poor. There are still some very big fish up in the Sound of Mull. But there are also a lot of smaller male fish too averaging around the 100 pound mark which are quicker off the mark. Unfortunately, we don't seem to make it around into the Firth of Lorne often enough, and even then there are times when due to its more exposed situation you may wish you hadn't. But this particular day was different. Despite being April, the sun was blazing down, the sea was like a sheet of glass, and we were in our shirt sleeves. Its a long slow 14 mile run when you're in a hurry to get somewhere, even with a 75 hp Honda on the back. But eventually the boat was brought to rest at anchor in around 550 feet of water and it was game on.
Because we'd thought we were not going to make it up to Mull that year, our organisation was in a bit of disarray when we suddenly realised the fishing might be on. Sometimes its those last minute trips against all the odds that work out the best. Problem number one was the trailer. Indespension were at that time making up a prototype RollerCoaster 5 with flushing brake drums for us to trial which was taking longer than anticipated. So they had to rush a standard RollerCoaster through for us to use for the trip as for various reasons our trailer at that time wasn't up to such a long jaunt. Then there was the bait. We didn't have any. Malcolm Gilbert down at Ammo had been on the look out for some coalfish for us, but poor weather had put paid to that. So he suggested we try some jacks which he imports to feed sharks and rays in aquariums. They arrived literally with hours to spare. On top of this, problems with my Shimano TLD25 had not been rectified. Then there was the shortage of 200 pounds bs mono and 12/0 hooks. But we set off none the less.
Ian Burrett came good, as he always does, with the trace gear. The problem with the lever drag on the TLD25 was over come by backing off the spool tensioner to let the line out. Hardly the best approach for huge tackle testing fish. But it was either that or not us it at all, and it is the ideal reel for this type of work. So there I was sat out in glorious conditions with untried bait on borrowed terminal gear and a reel that wasn't functioning properly. And as the tide began to slacken signaling the supposed start of the big skate feeding, you can probably guess whose ratchet was first to go. Except it wasn't me that struck into the fish. As Charlie had never had a skate before I suggested he might want to take it, which he did. Forty five minutes later the first fish of the day was wallowing at the side of the boat. One gaff in each wing and it was into the boat. A nice female of 189 pounds which oddly enough had no tail. When I mentioned this to Ian Burrett later, he said he see's a few like that adding that he suspected spurdogs had nipped them off when they were small before giving up trying to eat them.
With that early confidence booster, the jacks suddenly felt like an acceptable bait. What's more, they proved tough enough for the spurdogs not to rip to shreds, and also to 'survive' being eaten by a skate, as we were able to retrieve a few as the trip went on for re-use later if supplies got dangerously low. Meanwhile, in the mayhem that often follows having such a big fish in such a small boat, the other rods, which were still fishing, had been pushed into one corner of the boat, resulting in the braided line from Dave rod becoming trapped in the hinge of one of the trim tabs. Try as we may, we couldn't free it. So as it was showing signs of chafing, it was decided to cut it, had line it back up, and start all over again. This is where sods law played its hand again. During the hand lining another skate decided to take the bait. Playing a huge fish on a rod is hard enough. Having one on a line wrapped around your hand just doesn't bear thinking about and inevitably, I had to let it go.
We managed to cobble together another trace and get Dave back in action, action being the appropriate word. Within minutes he was hooked up, and this fish wasn't having any of it, taking off like a steam train which brought other problems into the frame. Because of the water depth, Dave had decided to tie another 300 metres of braid onto the end of what was left after the trim tab incident. That should have been enough to ensure that we never saw the junction knot again. Unfortunately, this fish had the knot plus another load of line off the reel in no time, and there was nothing Dave could do about it other than keep his fingers crossed. We had a lot of anxious moments I can tell you, particularly when the knot was only inches away from the rod tip. There is only so much pressure you can put on a fish of this size, and this one fought un-characteristically hard. The knot was on and off the reel numerous times before Dave was able to make some real headway with the thing. An hour and 20 minutes later, that fish came out of the weight estimation formula at a 202 pounds.
As the saying goes, everything comes to he who waits. I was the last person to get into a fish, but what a fish. Had I taken the first fish which I gave to Charlie, it still would have been a PB. But I had yet to crack the 200 pound barrier, and with Dave's fish living testament that it can be done, I was finally about to get my wish. But as ever on this trip, not without a few worrying moments along the way. Playing a fish of that size without a properly functioning drag is all you need. The fact that the hook of one of the gaffs had been broken off as Dave's fish hitting the deck meant we had only the single gaff to bring my fish in with when it hit surface. So I got it into my head that I was going to make a solo attempt. I remembered that the British conger club award a prize each year for the biggest eel caught and landed by the same angler. Ordinarily, I would not have attempted to bring a skate in on my own. But with the situation as it was, somebody had to do it. So when this huge carpet of a thing hit the surface, I held it there for a few moments with the gaff well down its wing while I caught my breath, then quickly removed the gaff and re-positioned in to the thicker part of the wing close to the snout and started to lift.
Having got it half out of the water, its weight became too much to hold and I had to lower it back down. Then, with my knee against the gunnel, I had another attempt which also failed, almost crushing my fingers on the side rails as the huge fish slipped back down. One last go then I would call it a day. With eyes bulging like a pouting dragged up quickly from 50 fathoms, and the veins in my neck sticking out like tree roots, I gave one almighty last heave, and thankfully, it passed the point of balance and slid in over the side whacking Dave in the crutch with its tail as it went onto the deck. I wont be trying that one again. Length and girth measurements fed into the estimation chart gave it a weight of 202 pounds. That's three fish, one apiece, for a combined weight of a midges under 600 pounds, not too mention the earlier hand line incident and a further two takes which came to nothing. A stark contrast to what was to come the following morning when it was back to normal with wind and rain forcing us to tuck in close to Lochaline and make do with a bonus 105 pounder, again on a jack, the remainder of which were given to Ian who went on to boat another couple of biggies later in the week using them.
NOTE: Apologies for the lack of still pictures here as most of the event was shot on video.
SEE THE VIDEO VAULT - Big Fish Small Boat