I fell in.
After a summer of north winds, we settled into a long, calm spell.
It’s been useless for netting, perhaps because the sea is so clear; anyway the fish seem to go quiet.
I have been watching windguru for a nice little blow: one not too long and hard to risk the net being lost or unreachable.
A net left too long is a stuff of nightmares.
Fish go in, die and the net sinks down. If that wasn’t waste enough, crabs and lobsters are attracted to the carcasses. Crabs are nigh impossible to extract from a net in one piece. So more carnage.
Don’t set a net without doing all you can to predict the weather. Make sure you can jump to it if the forecast changes, which it often does.
I saw a perfect window: a day of westerlies, due to die back after 24 hours. I went down that morning. The sea had picked up nicely.
In my excitement, I had forgotten my wetsuit, but went for it anyway. I wasn’t going out for long; it was already too rough to go further out to check the pots.
Now part of this exercise was to try myself and the kayak in some big waves.
I am still programmed to fear them. Going out through the surf was suitably hairy, but I was amazed at how quickly the cockpit drained of the water that crashed over the bow.
I was shaky though by the time it came to put out the net, as waves loomed around me as if threatening to break.
I leave some net anchors out at sea. They are net bags filled with stones on buoyed ropes. So the task was to tie the end of the net to the rope near the weight and feed it out of the bag, untwisting it as it paid out.
I muffed the first bit, and the buoy got caught up in the net, and went under. So when I got to the end of the net, I was concerned to make sure that didn’t happen again: so concerned that I toppled in when a bigger wave reared up!
I had been paying the gear out on the lee-side (not a good idea) so wasn’t braced for such an event.
Though getting wet is not something I do with relish, it was surprisingly pleasant. It only took two lunges to get myself back on board, though my clothes were very heavy.
I had to paddle quickly to pick up my sandals that were floating away, then headed back in feeling foolish.
Coming in is even scarier than going out, as you can't see the waves coming up behind you. You surf in with a wave, but then lose it, going sideways, to be capsized by the next one. Not only did the Prowler stay pretty straight, she didn't flip when I eventually got caught sideways by a wave.
I went back out to the net that afternoon, with the wetsuit this time.
The tide was out, so the surf was much worse and extended further out.
I certainly wouldn’t have gone out if it wasn’t for the net.
That kayak is amazing. It went through wave after wave; hardly hesitating under the shock of each deluge. I thought I’d made it when a wave like a shed appeared. I paddled into it and shut my eyes!
We were through.
As I worked along the net I saw a seal at the far end. Unless you are going to move a net in, there is no need to bring it aboard - just pull along it, lifting it up occasionally as you go. (Unless its a very deep one, you will see any fish in it. You can often feel their weight as well.)
The seal was having a go at the only fish in the net: a bass. I just shouted Oi! and he looked up, amazed, and dived away.
It was a perfect, milky sea by now, and I’d overcome some of my fears, so left the net there overnight.
It was well worth it. The sea had abated by morning, but I had 7 fine bass, a size lobster and two fat pollack.
The seal had had a chew out of one of the pollack, but I couldn’t begrudge that.
The worst scenario is when you come back to a net containing nothing but a bass-less head!
I pulled the net in. Enough is enough. Anyway, the sea died that day back to a clear calm.
That’s the first time I have caught “school” bass. I gutted them on the beach, and their stomachs contained soft crab, pipefish, some other small fish, and a prawn.
I could imagine them as a pack, rushing through the rough cloudy water, grabbing prey blinded by the turmoil.
It has fired me up into the idea of actively net-fishing the surf.
The beach I launch from isn’t ideal for that, as it collects a lot of weed that hangs about close-in.
It’s worth tuning into how much seaweed is floating around before you put out a net. Just after rough weather is bad. Neaps are best, as the weed gets ‘stranded’.
Stripping the weed out of a net is a thankless task, and the additional weight of it is no joke in a sit-on.
The occasional silver beauty makes it all worthwhile though!