This spring has been pretty poor over here on the Suffolk coast, with the beastly Easterly storms we had this past winter gone the fishing has been a bit of a non-starter. The rays have not turned up in the numbers we saw the last couple of years, the bass are sporadic to say the least and the may rot has tarnished the water.

With all these things adding up to one big “MEH” I have not really had much get up and go recently, my trip to Norway ruined my UK fishing for a while (catching 50lb+ cod can do that) but with a bank holiday weekend upon us I just had to get out and do something. First messages that pinged around our little Facebook chat suggested going South after big rays or hounds but watching the reports closely showed not much was coming out, I then suggested a session up on a sandy beach further north but we were at the winds mercy and the winds on this occasion said no. A bit of toing and froing was going on before we came to a mutual agreement, it was a long shot  this early in the season but we were going to go on the hunt for a Suffolk Smooth hound. Now when you think of Smooth hound fishing we nearly all think of the easy fishing on the renowned beaches, the ones where you chuck out a crab and just lay back waiting for the drag to scream as a massive pack of locust like hounds move through. Suffolk is not like that at all, up here we have to work hard to find them and we never get them in the numbers other places do, last year we only found the half decent ones to just under double figures on one tide all summer and that was it, they were gone the next day and never returned. But that’s what makes it all that more rewarding when you do get them on your local beach.

First things first the hunt for fresh peeler crab was on, peeler isn’t the be all and end all of Smooth hound fishing but it does help, especially when you are trying to just find the species itself and not winkle the bigger ones out of a pack which is where I would turn to hardbacks (that’s a totally different write up all together though), the urgent SOS was sent out, within half an hour I had 25 crab in the bag and it was game on for the nights session. After filling myself up at home on pie and mash the car was loaded and I was on my way, the destination was a local rough ground mark 30 minutes from my house, this is a mega tackle hungry venue with the sea bed being like a lunar landscape made up of big clay ridges interspersed with little sand patches and rocks. This venue is only fishable 3 hours either side of high as over low it completely empties out of water only to be covered back up on the flood again but it offers a veritable banquet for the fish with lots of food items on the menu for any fish that passes by.

Turning up at the mark I could see Tom was already there, so I unloaded my car and walked up the track, the sea came into view under the cliffs and it looked perfect for the target, it was flattening off by the minute and the wind was dropping off nicely as well, it was looking to be a lovely night on the shingle. After channelling the inner mountain goat in me I made it down the steep cliff and met Tom on the beach, the tide had covered most of the rough stuff and was gently lapping at the shingle from the outside it all looked spot on for a fish or 2 but would it produce… we were about to find out. First casts were fired out, my plan of attack was one rod set up, 60lb braid straight through to a simple fixed paternoster and on the sharp end was a single 1/0, personally I don’t like pennells  when hound fishing and as long as you don’t use stupidly big baits they hook up every time. Laying back on the shingle the sun was fading and the stars were starting to appear in the sky, it was going to be a clear night with no rain which is always a winner in my eyes. We were not expecting much until just after high, from past experience an hour down is when this place comes alive, it will just switch on out of nowhere but that also normally means DOGFISH!!!

The tide was nearing high and all I had caught was Whiting… Whiting at the beginning of June smashing crab baits intended for hounds was slightly frustrating, I think at one point I picked one up looked at it and asked it what on earth it was doing there, funnily enough I didn’t get a reply though. High tide came and went and the tide started to pull from right to left, the ebb was starting and as soon as it did the dogfish came on the feed, hordes of them, masses and masses, the sea must have been carpeted with them, it was a case of cast out, tighten up, wait 30 seconds and boom slack liner. Fun for the first 5 or 6 but then as an hour down approaches it turned into speed fishing get them in and get it back out for the magical hour down was nearing and if the hounds were going to appear this would be it.

As I was winding in another dog like slack liner Tom shouted up that it was target achieved, a handsome little pup graced the beach and after a couple of pics was sent on it’s way back into the wet stuff. Then it was back to dogs for a couple of casts and then my tip slammed over, went slack then smashed back round again, picking up the rod I could feel weight and some good head thumps, this wasn’t a dog was it a better hound?? After a spirited little scrap close in (you can feel everything through braid its great fun) a nice little hound appeared on the shingle, not a monster but it was better than the last one and in amongst all the dogs an whiting it was a welcome sight. Tom was getting into the dogs too when his close in rod tipped with ragworm doubled over and a pristine little Bass was beached which put a smile on his face.

As quick as the madness had started it went dead, the tide had emptied out and the fish had gone with it, we both decided on one last cast and I launched a crab bait out into a bit deeper water, after a couple minutes the tip smashed round but I missed it. Another last cast it was then, the same happened again so yet another last cast was sent out, by now the water was nearly non existent, the rod slackened off again but this time I connected, I could feel the fish bouncing off the clay ridges on the way in and a little doggie was landed. That was it for us, we packed up and both channelled our inner mountain goats again to clamber back up the cliff, species achieved but not the Suffolk double I want this year… Hopefully next time mummy hound comes out to play as well.