August had been a struggle, three trips had seen me land loads of fish however I failed to catch my target fish barbel, bitterling and zander.
In an attempt to get the species hunt back on track I decided on a weekend away, fishing Holyhead breakwater for a couple of days. Holyhead breakwater is renowned as a venue where virtually anything can turn up.
Picturesque it isn't, I have never seen so much litter in my life. Litter really is a pet hate of mine, whether its smokers dropping cigarrette butts or drivers chucking rubbish out of the car window. However when it is obviously, so called anglers that have left the rubbish it really makes my blood boil. How difficult is it to take a bag with you and clear up your own and any other litter in your peg and take it home to dispose of. These morons should be banned from fishing, period! The welsh authorities are no better as there clearly hadn't been any effort to clear the litter for some considerable time!
On the heavier tackle I was hoping for a dab or gurnard. What I caught was a lesser spotted dogfish, several whiting and a tiny poor cod. The mini species rig attracted loads of ballan and corkwing wrasse, pollack and a solitary shore rockling. I packed up around six to check into my digs and find something to eat.
On Sunday I followed a tip given to me by the proprietor of Winnies Worms in Holyhead and drove round to a mark near south stack. What a contrast to the breakwater, a walk from the carpark along the cliffside through heather and some miniature form of gorse in full bloom.
Unfortunately I was too laden to scramble down the cliffside to the mark and I confess I bottled it! One day I will return with minimal gear and a safety rope.
Unfortunately I was too laden to scramble down the cliffside to the mark and I confess I bottled it! One day I will return with minimal gear and a safety rope.
So I returned to the Breakwater and fished right up the end by the lighthouse. I decided to concentrate on the mini species without the distraction of a second rod. After ten hours catching a small ballan or corkwing wrasse every five minutes I had had enough. I was starving and my milk had turned leaving me without a decent cuppa!
