Big baits catch big fish...

Small baits catch biggish fish too.

Myself and Rob were being pestered by what we assumed were tiny school bass, repeatedly rattling the baits without managing to hook themselves. After yet another hit and run affair, I remembered a technique I'd used years ago to catch these small bass.

The idea came from an American YouTube catfish video I watched when I was obsessed with learning the best ways to fish circle hooks. There's nothing revolutionary about it. Instead of using a fillet or a head-and-guts bait, you cut a chunk of mackerel and lightly nick the hook diagonally through the back of it. The theory is that it helps prevent the bait spinning in the gape and masking the hook point.

Out went the next bait and, as I explained the change to Rob, I no doubt bored him once again with the story behind it and the YouTube video where I'd picked it up.

A couple of minutes later the line started peeling from the reel.

This time, however, it had no intention of stopping.

As I engaged the freespool and lifted into the fish, I immediately knew this wasn't one of the micro bass that had been harassing us all afternoon. The fish powered off, taking a good fifteen yards of line out to sea, and for a few moments I was connected to something that felt far more substantial.

Out in open water the bass fought hard. As I drew it closer to shore, it made one final show of defiance, the surface erupted into a cauldron of white water as it thrashed in a last-ditch attempt to escape.

A few moments later I beached a beautifully conditioned bass measuring just shy of 21 inches to the fork. We never put her on the scales, but judging by her build I'd estimate she was close to the 4lb mark.

After a quick photograph and a moment's admiration, she kicked strongly from my hands and disappeared back into the sea.

Ten minutes later I was in again, this time with another bass of around 2lb that punched well above its weight and gave a great account of itself before eventually sliding up the beach.

That was it for me for the night.

Unfortunately, Rob was having one of those sessions. His evening summed itself up right at last knockings when he had a bite that, despite two attempts, simply refused to commit. It had all the hallmarks of a better fish as well, and Rob was still muttering about it all the way back to the car.

The walk itself was uncomfortable enough. We'd both wrapped up like Michelin men expecting a chilly night, by the time we reached the car, the temperature was still reading 12.5°C. No wonder we were absolutely roasting.

A great night, great company, and sometimes that's more than enough.