A slightly different kind of sea

The wind's moved a few points further to the west and the sea's a different kind of sea tonight. There's a rolling surf building on the last push of the flood and for the first time I find other people fishing my intended spot.

I check where their lines are and move 50 yards or so up the beach. This puts me out of range of the feature I fancied - the end of a patch of rocky ground I'd spied on a recce, where the sea's scoured a deeper gully.

That means I'm in the rough stuff, with five or six feet of water over the top of the rocks. Ideal territory for diving plugs, when the wind's not this strong. No chance of getting them any distance into the gusts blowing into my face, so on goes a Dexter, which flies out like a good-un.

There's no finesse or presentation to this. As soon as it hits the water 40 or 50 yards out, I have to wind like mad to collect the slack braid the wind's blown into a big bow, and then crank the lure in fast enough to stop it fouling the rocks.

It looks too crude to me, but I know people catch on these lures, worked fast like this. Perhaps not when the wind on the braid and the swell make it kite off to the side. I can feel what the Dexy's doing through the braid, but I've no control as it carreers along through the crests and troughs of the waves.

I remove the hook for a few casts, to see how slow I can go before the lure bumps the rocks. A lot slower than I thought, before I feel the tell-tale ding and the hook-less spoon comes back with a few fronds of green weed around the swivel.

As the tide turns, the pull of the water quickens as the wind pushes the ebb along. Too late in the day, I decide on a move. One of the anglers a little further along tells me he caught two bass this morning.

A text from a mate says someone else had three off the same tide half a mile or so away off another feature. I check the tides and decide to try again first thing.