Flat calm at Boscastle. A rare event…no wind and hardly any swell. I managed to turf myself out of bed before six. It would have been earlier if it hadn’t been for that bottle of Doom Bar at the barbecue. It doesn’t take a lot nowadays to generate a thick head. Yeah OK, the tin of Carlsberg and those two glasses of wine didn’t help.
Anyway I was on the water before seven and pretty pleased with the scene that greeted me as I twisted out of the harbour through the rocky entrance.
Catch some mackerel quick, hook them up to the tope trace, drop them to the bottom and drift, and enjoy the scenery. That was my plan of action.
The big spring tide was starting to ebb and swept me past Short and Long Island. I could hear the raucous cackling of the Guillemot and Razorbill colonies from a mile away. It always amazes me how far sound carries over water on a still day. I could hear the splosh of diving gannets far out to sea even though the birds were nearly too far out to see.
I was supping a cup of coffee while sitting with my legs dangling over the edge when I leapt in surprise as a guillemot swam virtually between my feet underwater, flapping like a penguin. Coffee was spilt.
After an hour or so of no bites on the shark trace I reverted to feathers with a bit of mackerel strip for a bit more guaranteed action. I was a bit surprised to catch a little dab, my first for many a year.
I drifted for three miles down towards Tintagel then paddled for home, taking a closer run past the islands to see if I could spot the very few puffins that nest there. I was thrilled to get pretty close to a very confiding puffin and then watched a pair flying round in circles before landing on the cliff. As I was watching my fishing gear got terminally tangled on a snag in the depths and I had to cut the line. When will I ever learn? This happens so often. I get completely absorbed in something else and forget about the fishing stuff and lose another set of lures to the bottom.
As I arrived back into Boscstle the temperature was soaring and I was down to a t-shirt.(it was freezing point when I left home). It is a stunning place….you’d struggle to find a more photogenic spot in Cornwall. Or anywhere else for that matter.
So no big fish but it was nice to see the seabird colony thriving and it was great to see the handful of puffins still around , and they hadn’t fallen victim to that gloopy stuff which had killed so many of their compatriates around the southwest coast in the last couple of months.