For this tbt post I’m going back to 1st November 1991. The plan was a beach session on the beach at the back of St Catherine’s over the low. In those days my go to beach Bass set up was very different to the long rods and braid I use today. A 10 foot Shakespeare Ugly Stick Spinning rod, Abu 6500 loaded with 18lb line, a long running ledger with 12lb hook length tied to a 3/0 Viking. Bait was a mixture of Lugworm and Whitecat. In those days I never used a rod stand it was all touch ledgering holding the rod. The session didn’t start well as we were getting absolutely plagued by small Pouting even fishing at really short range in the shallows.
Eventually I got fed up with the endless Pout so decided to leave a small one on and lob it back out as a live bait. I can’t of been much more than 15 yards out in a few feet of water. It wasn’t long before I could feel the Pouting going mad and I said to Dad, this is gonna go soon. Sure enough a nice slow pull and I stuck expecting to hook into a nice Bass. What I actually got was snagged which I couldn’t understand as we had not long been standing where my bait was and it’s just sand. I tried giving it some slack but nothing happened. Eventually I though I would have to pull for a break so wound down tight, pointing the rod at the water and started walking backwards. That’s when the snag started moving at pace in the opposite direction. Oddly the first run was quite short before I managed to make some line and started pumping something really heavy back towards me. It was so heavy I could barely move it with the little spinning rod. We were speculating what it could be, big Ray, maybe a big Cod as a few had been caught on the breakwater. We didn’t have to wait long to find out as it finally realised it was hooked and the tail of a really big eel came out of the water as it turned and started powering out to sea. At this point with a 12lb hooklink I’m thinking this won’t last long. Over the next 15 minutes we had a too and fro, the fish would take a load of line and then I would gradually get it back to within about 20 yards of the beach but with no Gaff or net it was going to be difficult getting it in. It then went on a mad run along the beach hugging the back of the rocks and with such a short rod I had no control and could only hang on and hope for the best. Eventually I got it back in front of us and clearly it was tiring. Dad waded out into the surf to try and grab it but getting hold of an eel in the water is just about impossible. To make matters worse he had a floatation suit on and the waves were lifting him off the bottom. The eel then swam straight between his legs and the line got caught around his legs. Luckily by this point the eel was exhausted and didn’t make any runs which surely would of been fatal. Dad managed to untangle himself and then the amazing happened, the eel obviously disoriented swam straight onto the beach and dried itself. I ran over and grabbed the trace and the 12lb line parted in my hand with the 3/0 Viking firmly in its top lip stopping the eel biting through the trace. I couldn’t believe we had landed it, the amount of luck involved was ridiculous. As we all used to do in those days we took it to get weighed, it didn’t quite make 40 but I wasn’t complaining at 39lb 4ozs.
The twist to this story came when we gutted it. In its stomach was one of dads really old Conger traces, he must of lost it at some point previously on the breakwater. Clearly he didn’t have my level of luck!
What a mad session.
Shore Fishing Jersey 
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