A Red Letter Day

Taken from an idea on the Club Forums.

The first in this series is the Bish's red letter day when he caught That Cod

My Red Letter Day was way back in January 1991 on a Wednesday, during an after work trip to the Balcary Flat Rock in the Solway Firth, when Stevie Wallace and I were able to shoot off around noon, armed with a goodly amount of lugworm that human JCB Davy McNair had left over from our previous Sunday’s pilgrimage to this, Scotland’s big shore cod Mecca.

When we arrived at the mark in the early afternoon, there were already a number of anglers fishing the flood tide, and some nice cod had already been taken including a fish of twenty pounds, which I asked the lucky captor to show me as I’d never seen a fish so big, having been fishing for less than two years.

We tackled up, found ourselves a space, and began fishing. Our plan was to fish out the rest of the flood, high tide being around six pm, and about an hour and a half or so of the ebb which we reckoned was the best of the available tide.

As the hours passed the other anglers drifted off, ‘till we were the only two people left on the mark. This left us with plenty of room to fish the mark properly, being able to walk well up tide before casting, and walking back to our rod rest all the time paying out line before placing the rod back in the rest, re-engaging the reel, and allowing the tide to push against the large bow of line in the water, anchoring our grip leads securely in the sandy bottom and pinning our baits hard on the sea bed. This tidal action pulled our rod tips over in a graceful bend, ready to spring back with the arrival of a taking fish.

High tide came and went, and for a time with the ebb came the fine weed that clings to your line, building up and clogging your shock leader knot on the retrieve. This phenomenon could be regarded as a nuisance, but at least it prevents you from leaving your bait out too long, for you would end up with a ‘washing line’, and you probably wouldn’t be able to hold bottom in the strong tide with all that weed on your line anyway.

Eventually the weed disappeared, and we became more conscientious, because this was the period that we’d seen most fish taken in the past. We were standing blethering, killing time not really thinking it was going to be our night, when the tip of my ABU 464 rod seemed to move slightly in the light of our headlamps.

Stevie was the first to react, “You’ve got a slack liner Bish, take up the slack”, and he proceeded to talk me through how to land a large cod, though I have to admit that in my ignorance, I wondered why he was so excited, for as I wound the line back on to my 7000 I didn’t feel any weight on the end of my line, not even the five ounce ‘grippy’, just an occasional sort of ‘shaking’, of course it didn’t register with a novice that the fish had picked up the weight and was swimming quickly toward me, and that I was merely taking up the line and ‘leading’ the fish to shore like an obedient dog.

The first real inkling I had of the size of this fish, was when Stevie, positioned at a small gully to my right, lunged a couple of times with Big Davy’s twelve foot gaff, and strained, cursing, to lift the fish in one sweeping movement to deposit it flapping on the rock.

We both stared for a second or two, almost in shock, before we both went a bit mental and started jumping and dancing about like a pair of loonies, it’s as well there wasn’t anyone else around to see us!

As I went to pick the fish up the 30lb hook length snapped, so it seemed that it really was a lucky catch in more ways than one.

We’d left the scales back in the car, so for the time being weight was a ‘guesstimate’. Stevie reckoned it was at least 25lb and he predicted that it would stand for ever as the club Shore Record.

We fished on for a bit, Stevie obviously hoping for a bite, but in truth I’d had enough, and before long we packed up for the hard walk back up the cliff path, Stevie in front lugging some of my gear to help me out, and me behind, struggling with the rest of my stuff, the big cod sheathed in a black bin liner with a length of shock leader through its gills as a carry handle, slung over my shoulder, and with every step I took up the cliff path it threatened to take its revenge by tangling between my legs and tripping me. It was pretty hairy at times, as anyone who’s walked that path might imagine!

On the way back down through the fields to the car park a ‘reshuffle’ of our burdens saw Stevie end up (much to my relief) carrying the cod, and praying that we’d meet some other anglers.

His prayers were answered. A couple of guys from Wallsend who’d fished Balcary Point arrived bang on cue in the car park, and I’m sure Stevie’s eyes lit up in the darkness.

I recognized the mischievous tone in his voice as he enquired, “Hi boys, catch anything?”

“Just a couple”, was the response in a soft Geordie inflection, as two fish were laid out on the tarmac in the light of four headlamps.

 “A cod o’ twenty-two poond and a nice floonder” he went on by way of explanation, then enquired “How aboot you lads?”

“Oh we jist got the wan”, Stevie replied casually before producing the cod from the bin liner and slapping it down next to its cousin. The 22lb fish looked small by comparison.

I retrieved my scales from the car boot a set of 56lb Salter’s, my fish took the needle exactly half way round, stopping precisely on the 28lb mark.

As well as gaining me the club record, and possibly a little credibility among my peers as an angler, that fish won me six bottles of Malt Whisky as the ‘Fish of the week’ in the Daily Record; a fair sized write up in the Evening Times Angling Section, and a mention in the Sea Angler. It also proved that you don’t have to be an expert to catch the fish of a lifetime.

So far Stevie’s prediction has been right, it’s stood as the Silver Lure S.A.C. Club Shore Record for thirteen years, and with the way cod stocks are at the moment it seems that it could be a long time before it’s bettered, but hopefully someday another club member will have the opportunity to experience what I have, and maybe this time it’ll be Stevie.

He’s always said that it should have been his fish.