Back at Rosscarbery today to fish with Mick after we'd failed to contact the mullet on a Sheep's Head rock mark yesterday - though we had a bit of fun later on catching mackerel on light tackle.
I arrived after lunch to find the pool below the N71 very low but well populated by mullet, most of which seemed to be cruising around with little sign of feeding. Mick wasn't there yet so I dropped into the swim where I'd done so well last week and started off trotting a float down the flow of water coming through the bridge arch.
30 minutes later, without a bite, I was changing over to my leger rods to fish further out. Mick arrived and set up to my right. The first hour legering was quiet apart from one pull-round that may well have been a line-bite. But as the flood tide arrived and the water level began to edge up, I started getting a few trembles and knocks on the tips and eventually three good bites which yielded at hat-trick of four-pounders at 4:03, 4:07 and 4:01 ...
Mick meanwhile hadn't had a touch! I really didn't want this to turn into another whitewash for him so as there was now a better choice of swims with the increased depth, I went off to try a spot I fancied on the west shore of the pool and suggested Mick move across into my swim.
Best laid plans and all ... my new chosen spot was choked with rafts of lettuce weed so after a couple of casts I moved back and set up again in the swim Mick had vacated. He was still fishless and had changed to floatfishing as the tide was now pouring through the bridge arch into the lagoon, and more lettuce weed was drifting through. I tried on the float too but neither of us could get a bite. So as the flow began to ease up as the lagoon filled, out went the legers again. And the inevitable happened I suppose ...
After two or three casts I had a trembly sort of bite on one rod. Nothing came of it but after I'd put on a new piece of crust I made a real effort to cast the bait back to the same spot, and after a couple of minutes the trembly bite repeated. My hand went down to strike this one but the rod pulled over anyway as I reached it. It was a strong fish that moved off powerfully to the middle of the pool then put up a stubborn if not over-protracted fight before Mick could net it.
It was a tatty old fish with split dorsal and pectoral fins and what looked like tail-rot that had taken a good part of its tail area. The scales fluctuated between 5:15 and 6:00 so I did the honest thing and called it 5lb 15oz ... still my new Irish PB by an ounce so I'm pleased with that.
I left Mick still fishing, I really hope he caught.