Packing for Norway.

Two weeks ago, when I really should have been packing my bags for a one week trip to Norway, I put doing that off until the last minute and crammed several fishing sessions in hunting for a topknot. With the summer coming to an end, I guess I figured I had better make the most of what was left of it. By the time I got back from Scandinavia it would be Autumn after all.

The weather wasn’t great when I visited Torness Power Station for my first session, but I tucked myself away down in the sea defence boulders and dropped live prawn down into the deepest holes I could find.

This nice deep hole didn’t produce a topknot,..

…only this solitary blenny.

After a few pretty fruitless hours, scrambling around the rocks and not catching much, I drove down to St Abbs to try my luck there. The fishing there was much more productive, and there were lots of ballan wrasse around that were more than happy to munch a live prawn. A few long spined sea scorpion found them tempting as well. I’m sure a topknot would eagerly eat one too. I suppose I just didn’t manage to put my bait near one.

The rocky areas surrounding the outside of St Abbs harbour held plenty of ballan wrasse.

They're home to a few long spined sea scorpions too.

A couple of days later, I headed back to St Abbs again, this time to fish Starney Bay from the rocks on its right hand side.

Only accessible at low tide, I hadn’t visited the rocks on the right of Starney Bay for a long time.

It was a beautiful day when I made my way down from the coastal path, scrambled over the rocks and finally got out onto the point, and I was soon catching a few fish. Dropping sections of ragworm and live prawns down close to the vertical rock surfaces produced a couple of ballan wrasse, which were followed by a succession of coalfish.

Coalfish give a great account of themselves on ultralight tackle.

I did intend to stay on the rocks for several hours, but a change in the weather forced me to alter my plans. Thankfully, I made it back across the gully that fills up as the tide rises just in time, otherwise I would have been stuck out on the point for a few hours in the rain. By the time I made it to St Abbs Harbour, the blue sky had been replaced by dark grey rain clouds passing overhead, and I did end up getting slightly wet a few times as rain sporadically fell. I focused my efforts on lowering live prawns down the vertical concrete surfaces, exploring as much of them as I could. I may have been slightly damp, but the fishing was pretty good, and I was also rewarded with some pretty spectacular rainbows.

Somewhere over the rainbow, topknot lie.

Live prawn has become one of my favourite baits this year. Fish love them, collecting them is easy, and best of all they are free!

One of several chunky ballan wrasse I caught.

I carried on fishing into darkness, working over the same areas I’d covered earlier in the session. Eventually, I ran out of prawns, so I switched to sections of ragworm. This produced a couple of long spined sea scorpion and a small lobster.

A bizarre creature, but sadly not the one I’ve been after for weeks!

Two days later, Lillian and I went for a walk around Butterdean Wood in East Lothian. Afterwards, we visited the inlet area at Torness Power Station where I was permitted to fish for a couple of hours to use up some ragworm I had left over from my previous session. This produced a few wrasse, and a couple of other species, but once again no funky flatfish, unfortunately.

Yet another ballan wrasse over 40cm on ultralight tackle,..

...a colourful corkwing wrasse,..

...a nicely coloured small codling,..

...and a couple of butterfish. I think those take me into double digits of butterfish caught this year!

Just as we were about to leave, another angler who was heading off offered me some cracking, freshly dug ragworm. At that point, I had no intention of fishing the following day as I still had to pack for Norway, but this generous offer was too good to turn down, so I gratefully accepted the free bait.

So, the day before I flew out to Norway, and with most of my packing still to do, I headed west to Gourock, to use my newly acquired supply of fantastic quality worms for one final pre holiday topknot session. At the first spot, rather unsurprisingly, all I caught was endless wrasse and a few tompot blenny and long spined sea scorpion.

If I never catch another goldsinny wrasse again...

Three tompot blenny made a nice change from the endless wrasse!

My mate Andrew popped down to fish with me on his lunch hour, and as we caught more of the same species I'd been pulling out all morning, we had a good chat about topknot. Just after he left to go back to work, I headed along to a try a second spot in Greenock that I know has produced several topknot this year. I only had a small amount of ragworm left, and the resident goldsinny and corkwing wrasse rapidly set about depleting that. Almost out of bait completely, a fairly gentle take resulted in all hell breaking loose when I lifted into it. A large fish started stripping line from my reel at a worrying rate. Luckily, the fish didn’t dive into the submerged rocks, instead charging off, swimming furiously away from me horizontally just above them. It made a few of these surging runs before I eventually got it up to the surface. Extending my net down, a large ballan wrasse was drawn into it and lifted up onto the venue's distinctive cobbled brick.

43cm of very chunky ballan wrasse. I didn't bother weighing it, but I'm confident it was my heaviest one of the year on ultralight gear. A real test of the tackle I was using!

I had a last few drops after catching the large ballan wrasse and caught a few more goldsinny wrasse, but it was soon time to head back to Edinburgh to do what I had been putting off all week, pack my suitcase full of fishing tackle! Sadly, a fishing session packed week in the lead up to my Norwegian adventure had not produced a topknot. I’m back from Norway now, and I’ll keep trying to catch a topknot in the coming weeks. The days will be gettting shorter soon, so I’ll be out after dark more often too I think. The wrasse should be less of an obstacle once the sun has vanished below the horizon and topknot are supposed to be more active at night as well.

Tight lines, Scott.

Mind the gap.

I've been out a couple of times this week to continue my ongoing search for a topknot. On Tuesday I headed down to Torness Power Station for a few hours at the inlet area. Once again, I opted to drop live prawns down into gaps in the rocks and kelp. I believe prawns make up a large part of the topknot’s diet along with small fish so should in theory give me the best chance to tempt one. It was a very small neap tide, and as a result, the session wasn’t the most action packed. I did catch a few fish and my mate Nick joined me for a few hours. It was good to catch up with him and we discussed our up coming fishing trip to Norway at the end of this month. 

My first fish of the session was this colourful corkwing wrasse. 

There were lots of juvenile cod around too that were happy to munch a prawn. 

From the gaps in the rocks and kelp I also pulled out a few long spined sea scorpion. 

After Nick left, the tide had come in a bit and I headed down to carefully clamber around on the large sea defence boulders. Again, dropping a prawn down into the deepest holes I could find, I patiently sat waiting for bites. 

Any second now.

Surprisingly, my efforts only produced one fish. The bite felt a little odd, and was followed by a slow steady pull down of my rod tip. Was it a topknot?

Nope! It was a very small ballan wrasse and the final fish of a pretty poor session. 

The following day I met up with my mate Ryan, who’s also going to Norway with Nick and I, and we headed west to fish for topknot at spots in Greenock and Gourock. We fished artificials at the first spot, but things were pretty slow so after a couple of hours we headed west to the second mark in Gourock. Once there, we climbed down the rocks and collected a few shellfish to use as bait. Fishing small pieces on small hooks down in deep gaps in the weed covered rocks had fairly predictable results. Lots of goldsinny wrasse! Probably Ryan’s least favourite species to catch. 

Goldsinny wrasse on a dog whelk. 

After a few dozen goldsinny wrasse, I caught a tompot blenny. My fourth in a week, but I always love catching them. 

Big, chunky and colourful with tons of character. The king of blennies in my opinion!

A lot more goldsinny wrasse later, I hooked a fish that felt very small and was delighted when a Connemarra clingfish appeared. Clingfish are such a weird group of fish. 

I’ve caught a few clingfish over the last few years, but every time I catch one I’m reminded just how bizarre they are. For a small fish they have a large mouth. They’re also incredibly slimy.

Their head is very large in proportion to their overall size and the structures on their underside produce amazingly strong suction on any surface, including your hands.  

Basically if they’re not on the move they’re stuck down. The candy striped eyes of the Connemarra clingfish are amazing and they have some colourful red and purple markings too.

Whilst not the species I was hoping for, I was nevertheless on a bit of a high after catching this fish. It’s a reasonably rarely caught species after all and a very cool one at that. Ryan meanwhile, was pretty much catching only goldsinny wrasse. Having seen me catch these other two species, he was keen to catch either a tompot blenny or a Connemarra clingfish himself, so I swapped spots with him. Sadly, he didn’t catch either, and to make matters worse I caught another two tompot blenny from the spot he had been fishing originally! Eventually, the tide began to rise up over the area we were fishing and would soon force us from the rocks we were standing on. Shortly before we left to get some cold drinks and head to a third spot, we both caught a small rock goby each. Thinking I’d already caught one this year, I didn’t take a photo of mine. Checking my records later, I realised it had been my first of 2024. I’m sure I’ll catch another one before the year is out.

Before heading home we stopped off at another spot in Greenock to try to catch a grey gurnard. Casting further out past the rocks and weed onto cleaner ground, we didn’t have any joy locating any of them, so we had a few drops down the side. A few dozen goldsinny wrasse, a few corkwing wrasse and a couple of long spined sea scorpion later, I caught a small rock cook wrasse.

So colourful and rather cute. Look at that minuscule mouth!

We were almost about to leave when Ryan pointed out a massive dense shoal of small herring congregated in a corner to the left of us. I had literally just remarked that it was probably mackerel corralling them in there, when the surface began to erupt violently in a feeding frenzy. I’m not too fussy about targeting mackerel if I’m honest, but on ultralight tackle they offer fantastic sport, so this was too good an opportunity to miss! We both quickly tied on small metal jigs and had some fun catching a few of the frantically feeding fish. 

Little rockets on ultralight tackle.

It was a unexpected and fun way to end a fairly long day’s fishing. It was also Ryan’s first experience of catching mackerel on ultralight tackle and I’m pretty sure it won’t be his last! Yet again no sign of a topknot, but I’m pretty determined to keep trying until I get lucky and catch one, no matter how long it takes!

Tight lines, Scott.

Putting my heart and sole into it.

Whilst checking the tides and weather conditions recently, I noticed that there was an opportunity to head down to the Solway Firth again for another go at adding a Dover sole to my Scottish species list. Between deciding to go and making the drive down there, I was sent an email by a fellow species hunter asking for my assistance identifying some fish he’d caught during a holiday to Lanzarote. During our conversation, he told me he was one of the anglers that I’d heard had caught a topknot whilst fishing in Greenock. He also told me that a week later, his friend had also caught one there at pretty much exactly the same spot, that by examining their photos they knew it was two different fish, and he also confirmed that I had been fishing in the right area when I had been trying to catch one myself. This was all the encouragement I needed to turn an evening sole session into a full day flatfish mission!

Leaving early, so I could avoid the morning rush and get the right spot before lots of feather flinging mackerel bashers turned up, I arrived in Greenock at about 08:30 and set up two 10ft feeder rods. Dropping small sections of ragworm down into the area where the topknot had been caught had predictable results. Wrasse, after wrasse, after wrasse, after wrasse!

Goldsinny made up the majority of the wrasse I caught.

Corkwing wrasse also chipping in to munch all my bait in rapid fashion!.

I was hopeful that perhaps a topknot would somehow muscle its way past the ravenous wrasse, but after over six hours of fairly frantic, non-stop action, the only other species I had caught was a solitary pollock, and I only caught that because I cast a bait just out past the rocks away from the area that the topknot had been caught from!

This pollock was a reasonable size and put a nice bent in my feeder rod!

By the middle of the afternoon, I had used up fifty percent of my ragworm, and had long since lost count of the number of wrasse I had caught. Admitting defeat and packing up my gear, I got back into my car and made the drive south to begin phase two of "Operation Odd Flatfish". Before starting my evening session, I spent almost two hours digging some blow lug, ensuring that, along with my remaining ragworm, I had enough worms to fish two rods for four hours at least. 

Armed with quality bait and using a baiting needle to improve their presentation would hopefully improve my chances of success!

I began fishing just after halfway into the flooding tide, just after the current begins to ease off. Rather predictably, the first fish that found one of my baits on the muddy bottom was a thornback ray. In my limited experience of fishing there, they are easily the most common fish in the area, or at least the most active feeders!

No surprises really. This was the first of many thornback ray.

It was an overcast night anyway, but as the sun got lower on the horizon, and it began to get a little darker, I was hopeful that any sole in the vicinity might begin feeding too and be drawn to the scent of the juices slowly leaking from my worm baits. The thornback ray kept coming though, interspersed with a few lesser spotted dogfish. 

A nice change from the endless thornback ray.

The action was pretty hectic, with most casts producing a bite, if not a fish. After just over an hour, I’d lost count of the number of thornback ray I’d caught, including a double shot of thornback ray and a double shot of a thornback ray and a bass. Eventually my rod tip rattled and lifting it and winding in I felt something a little lighter that came in relatively easily. Definitely not a thornback ray or a lesser spotted dogfish I thought, but what was it? As it came to the surface I realised that it was a flatfish, when it rolled over flashing a bright white underside. It was also a good size for a flatfish too, but as it came closer I knew it wasn’t a sole due to its rounder shape. It turned out to be a very nice flounder. Normally I’d have been thrilled but given it wasn’t my target species I wasn’t as excited as perhaps I should have been. 

Despite this being a new personal best flounder of 40cm, I was slightly underwhelmed. It was a sole I was desperate to catch!

More thornback ray followed, but as high tide approached, the bites dropped off a bit. By this point it was almost pitch black, such was the amount of cloud cover. After winding in and rebaiting, I cast out both rods again. One at distance and one closer in. I got an aggressive bite on the closer in rod and lifting it and winding in I felt something putting up a decent fight. Again, I thought to myself this definitely doesn't feel like a thornback ray or a lesser spotted dogfish, but also it didn't feel like another flounder either. Shining my headtorch out into the dark, I waited to see what species would appear. I wanted to get the fish in quickly but also didn’t want to pull the hook, so I just wound it in steadily. When the elongated shape of a sole did appear, I felt my heart rate increase dramatically, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous pulling a flatfish up onto a beach in my life, especially when it started wriggling around like crazy! Quickly putting my rod down, I grabbed the fish firmly by its head. I needn't have worried about it escaping, as my super sharp Sakuma Manta hook had done its job and the fish was well hooked. I’d done it! My first Scottish Dover sole! One more step taken towards catching one hundred species in Scotland! 

My first Scottish sole was a reasonable size. They are a very strong flatfish making them tricky to handle but I took it well away from the water's edge before unhooking it and taking some photos.

What a weirdly simple mouth they have, with virtually no articulation.

Popping the fish back, it swam off strongly, disappearing into the murky water with a few thrashes of its long body. I was standing there in disbelief, but absolutely buzzing. Even though it wasn’t my first ever Dover sole, as I've caught one on the south coast of England many years ago, it almost felt like it was! I was pretty tired from a long day, but with worms left to use up and adrenaline still pumping through my body, I fished on for another couple of hours until I had exhausted all of my bait. I didn’t get home until 04:00 and was absolutely shattered the next day. Driving, fishing and digging bait for twenty-two hours straight, I think that’s the longest and most intense solo fishing trip I’ve ever done! Catching one of my target flatfish species meant it was well worth the effort!

Tight lines, Scott.

Windy, with a chance of topknot and lumpsucker!

I continued my hunt for a new Scottish species this week, but the weather was pretty grim, so I didn't fancy my chances, but went out a couple of times anyway! On Monday evening, I spent an hour or so exploring some rockpools at the western end of Portobello Beach after work. The area didn’t seem to hold many fish, but eventually I caught a small fish from a small sandy patch on the bottom of a larger pool. 

This common goby would turn out to be the only fish of the session. It had some nice markings on it, probably due to breeding.

On Tuesday in work I was told that a lumpsucker and a topknot had been caught from the Clyde from a couple of spots I'm familair with around Greenock, so I headed there on Wednesday to see if I could get lucky and catch one myself. The weather forecast wasn't great and sadly when I arrived it was accurate. It was dry most of the day which was something, but it was very windy and that made things difficult. The water was also coloured up slightly and there was a fair amount of suspended weed. Fishing two rods with my hooks baited up with small pieces of ragworm, raw prawn and black lug, I caught plenty of fish but only two species. All I caught were goldsinny and corkwing wrasse and nothing else!

One of the dozens of goldsinny wrasse I caught.

Easily the most colourful corkwing wrasse of the session.

Despite not catching anything rare or unusual, it was still an enjoyable session and productive too. Having surveyed the area I was fishing at low tide once the rocks were exposed, I have a fair idea which spots to focus my efforts on when I next return. Hopefully I’ll get a a few sessions in before the mackerel arrive! I might try fishing small live prawns when I do. The topknot in particular might find those irresistible, if the multitudes of wrasse don't munch them first!

Tight lines, Scott.

Name that fish!

Being a bit of a geek, I pride myself on my knowledge of fish. From time to time, I get asked to identify fish by fellow anglers who catch species they might not be familiar with. Last weekend, I was sent some pictures of a tiny clingfish by my mate Andrew. “Is this just a juvenile Connemara clingfish?”, he asked. I didn't think it was, but after looking at more of his photos of the fish in question, photos of the clingfish I have caught myself in the past, and quickly consulting some books I own to jog my memory of the clingfish species found in the UK, I was certain it was not.

The tiny fish in question. Those black marks are millimetres apart!

The fish’s dorsal and anal fins were too small and were also separate from the tail fin for it to be a Connemara clingfish. The Connemarra clingfish has much bigger dorsal and anal fins that reach the tail fin but aren't connected to it. Both the shore clingfish and the Cornish sucker, now recognised as two distinct species, also have much larger dorsal and anal fins which are connected to the tail fin. By elimination, it could only be one of the two remaining UK cling fish species, the two-spotted clingfish or the small-headed clingfish. Colouration varies greatly, so their teeth require examination, as this is the only key identifying feature that can be relied upon to distinguish between the two. Both possess small, rounded incisors at the front of their jaws. The small-headed clingfish also has one to three large canine teeth on each side of their mouth, whilst two-spotted cling fish have none. Obviously Andrew had not checked his fish’s teeth, so we cannot be certain of its identity one hundred percent, but after showing his photo to others who have encountered both these small clingfish, the consensus seems to be that it is a small-headed clingfish.

Either way, I was very excited by his capture, and we hastily arranged to meet up midweek to see if we could catch another one. On Wednesday, I drove through to Greenock, and we met up at East India Dock to fish there for a couple of hours while we waited for the tide to go out so we could visit his clingfish mark. Predictably, the resident goldsinny wrasse were soon munching my slightly unorthodox choice of hookbait.

Double maggot! Normally used for freshwater fishing, they’re a perfect little wriggly snack for small saltwater species too!

After catching lots of wrasse, it was soon time to head off to hunt for clingfish. After a short drive and parking the car, walking a short distance and scrambling down some rocks, we were soon fishing in the area where he’d caught the clingfish a few days earlier. Things were a little slow, but eventually we both caught some corkwing wrasse and a few painted goby.

Painted goby, a new species for Andrew.

After a while, Andrew switched to dropping his rig down into gaps in the boulders we were standing on. He was hoping to catch a large short spined sea scorpion he’d hooked and lost a few days earlier. He didn’t get one, but was rewarded with a nice tompot blenny instead.

Andrew’s first tompot blenny of 2024.

After a couple of hours, I had tried a few different baits on my tiny hook, but hadn’t caught the clingfish I was after. Eventually, the tide forced us to leave the mark, so we spent an hour fishing under a nearby pier. As well as catching a few more painted goby, I caught what I was confident was a common goby.

A lateral line scale count was later carried out to confirm this was indeed a common goby.

By midafternoon, Andrew had already stayed a couple of hours longer than he had originally planned, or should I say, been given permission for. That’s married life and being the father of a newborn baby for you I suppose!

On my own for the rest of the day, I headed back to East India Dock, where I fished for a few more hours. All I caught were a few goldsinny wrasse, with only a solitary long spined sea scorpion taking an interest in my squid tentacles.

I love long spined sea scorpion.

They're such charismatic little fish!

Feeling a bit hungry by this point, I headed off to get some food and to check into my accommodation for the night. I was planning on revisiting the cling fish spot again the following day. It was at this point I noticed I was a little bit sunburnt. Oops. Overcast or not, that's what will happen if you go fishing without a hat and don't put any SPF on! Despite this, I decided to head out for another hour's fishing near where I was staying. I quickly got setup again on some benches with some fishy mosaics embedded in them.

The mackerel are in!

After fishing next to the benches for a while and catching nothing, I walked a hundred meters or so along the promenade and fished near some rocks. This proved to be a good decision, as after a chunky corkwing, I caught a pollock and a codling that took my squid strip and put a good bend in my ultra light rod.

A nice pollock.

Followed up a few casts later by this nice codling.

I returned to my accommodation and had a reasonably early night. I didn’t sleep too well though, due mainly to my pulsating head, and in the morning I decided to have a lie in. Once up, I checked out of the hotel and went to a supermarket to grab some food, a hat, and a bag of raw prawns to use as bait. I’d tossed the remainder of my squid into the sea the previous evening, as it didn’t smell too great, but I had some maggots left to use as well.

I headed to East India Dock whilst the tide dropped. Once there I set up a three hook flapper rig with #18 hooks and cast them out as far as I could as I was hoping to catch a dragonet. I hadn’t been fishing long when Andrew drove along from the end of the breakwater, he had been out “walking his dog”, who was in the back of his car. He told me he’d had a short session on the inside of the pier, and he had lost a nice ballan wrasse in the rocks there.

I fished away, but things were pretty slow. The wind had also picked up, so I decided to just stay put for the rest of the day. Eventually I caught a sand goby, a few dabs and a black goby at distance on tiny pieces of prawn.

My setup was so sensitive that I saw this sand goby’s bite.

I caught quite a lot of these small dab.

My little tank is great for seeing all the features of small fish like this black goby.

In the afternoon, the wind dropped off and the clouds parted. By early evening, it was a beautiful day. Slathered in SPF 50, I hid in the shade of my car’s open boot and turned my attention to dropping maggot into the rocks directly in front of me. This had predictable results and I caught quite a few wrasse. Mainly goldsinny, but I did also catch a couple of corkwing and a solitary rock cook.

A lovely calm sunny evening.

Fishing in close produced this colourful male corkwing wrasse

I love catching rock cook wrasse. They’re so cute with their tiny little lips.

After a while, I switched back to fishing at distance, but the current had dropped off and so did the bites. After over an hour with no fish showing any interest in my baits, I packed up and made the drive home. Before I left I had a brief chat with another angler who told me that some topknot had been caught recently from down in the rocks at East India Dock. Greenock, and the surrounding area, really is a bit of a species hotspot. No doubt I’ll be back there again soon to hunt for topknot and tiny clingfish.

Tight lines, Scott.