Really Wrecked S.A.C.
Newsletter number 9: Timerlin

This was the first club trip out with Larry Ryan, whose boat, Timerlin, we've often shared a wreck with. The tide was good for bassing, and that's Larry's speciality, so bass were the target for the day. I didn't go on this trip, but Adam has given me the details.

To start with Larry headed for a small patch of rough ground just outside the marina to catch tiny pouting - perfect bass livebait. And from there it was over to the Portobello, or more accurately, a small wreck inside the Portobello known as the aeroplane.

Most hated man in Southern England
The pouting were hooked up on size 4 trebles fished on 6-10ft flowing traces and lowered over the sides. It wasn't long before Adam was showing the way with the first fish, a plucky little fighter that went around 3lb. Adam then hooked and landed another two bass, which did little for his popularity, though apparently his smug grin and unbearably superior air didn't help much either.

Tragedy
He was saved from all-out group hatred when Paul Myles landed a fish of around 4lb. And then Steve Newham struck dramatically and flamboyantly into a better fish. How he huffed and puffed as he battled with his leviathan, his barked instructions to all and sundry to bring in their tackle and get the hell out of his way almost audible over the crude grinding of his Charter Special.

Eventually, and despite the reel jamming twice during the battle, its gears a fused mess of cheap tin and pig iron, the bass surfaced a little way from the boat. Larry held the net and Steve guided the fish into it.

Or rather, he guided a flying treble into it, which stuck fast, preventing Larry from netting the fish. In the ensuing panic, as Steve ordered everyone in the boat over the side to save his fish, the bass was lost. As you can imagine, sympathy oozed from every quarter. If you listen carefully, you can still hear the sound of chuckling coming from number 12 Mountfield Road.

Rick's breakfast
Unfortunately that was it for the day, but before I move on, mention must go to the sterling efforts of Rick Newth. Not content with catching mackerel livebait for a typically grateful Stevie all day, he also enthusiastically threw himself into the role of liberally groundbaiting with Sheffield Arms breakfast at regular intervals.

And in between, he even managed to do some proper fishing, and came up trumps with not one, but two new records. These splendid specimens will live forever in the memories of those privileged to see them. In terms of sheer quality, it's hard to decide between the 8 dram winkle and the 4oz dead man's fingers, but my personal favourite is the winkle. Sadly, every camera on board jammed at precisely that moment, so posterity has no record of this marvellous achievement, and posterity is all the poorer for it.