The sea is big. There's almost 140 million square miles of it. Standing at the edge of it with a fly rod in your hand you're going to feel dreadfully small. Even double hauling you're never going to cover all of it.
Added to the sudden doubt, there's the embarrassment. Deep down you KNOW you're going to look ridiculous waving a fly rod around on the beach. All those macho sea-angling types are throwing 5oz leads over the horizon it seems, and the boat anglers really do sail out of sight for hours on end. What what will they say when they see the likes of us?
Let's take stock a minute and see.
Are those beachcasting anglers catching large fish and plenty of 'em? If they are then go and get some identical gear and join in. If they're not, then at least we can't do any worse!
If the beachcasters are catching shoaling fish on feathers, then consider; feathers are only a crude sort of fly, and the shoals may well move inshore...
Are they catching tiddlers? Then we're not interested. Or are we? What happens to all those little fish after they're thrown back? Are they swept downtide to where a predator is waiting to grab anything that looks and moves like a small injured fish? NOW you're thinking along the right lines. Take a walk downtide and keep your eyes open.
Actually that's the best tip of all. Use polaroids to look into the water wherever you can. Where a rocky shore drops into deeper water you'll see small fish moving amongst the seaweed. There are probably larger ones nearby. Look around when you're paddling with the kids, sooner or later you'll see fish. Look out for fishy ripples in shallow water. Near the drop-off into tidal channels and rocky gullies small fry hide in the underwater jungle. What do you think they're hiding from? If you're lucky you'll see a spray of fish explode out of the water as they try to evade capture from below.
Examine the debris cast up on the shore. Sometimes thousands of tiny fish are left glittering by the tide. Predators trapped them in the shallows and harried and panicked them until they stranded themselves. It might happen again on the next tide. At the top of the beach there may be heaps of stinking, rotten, seaweed. Turn some over; use your boot or a stick if you can't bear to touch it. It's teeming with life. When the spring tide gets to it there will be thousands, millions, of little creatures at the mercy of the sea, and of opportunistic fish.
Soon you'll find it rare to be beside the sea for any time and NOT to see signs of fish. If the fish are big, there's your quarry, if they're small, they are the naturals that your lures will imitate.
I always reckon that if I can see 'em, I'm half way to catching 'em.
Ready to go fishing?
Try to go with friends the first few times. You'll need help landing fish. You'll have moral support for the initial embarrassment, and they can take the photo's when you get your first sea fish.
If your first trips coincide with neap tides you'll do best in a quiet cove. Ideally fish the whole of a rising tide, starting a little before dead low water. If it's undisturbed, especially if it's dawn or dusk, there's a good chance that predators will be within a few rod lengths of the shore. It's easy to overcast the fish, and to scare them.
Use a fry pattern. If there is a tidal drift start at the uptide end of the beach and work down with the current. The fish will travel the other way. If you find a shoal follow them.
Sometimes you'll see a 'rush', the sea surface ripped to foam as predators tear into a shoal of fry. A lure cast into that lot is almost a dead cert., it's worth running to get there before they disperse.
Usually it's just as you get into tune with the wavelets lapping at the edge that the rod bucks. My first ever fly-caught bass, admittedly only a tiddler, took by my feet whilst I was standing in the edge with my fly dangling. I wasn't looking. I was peering into the sunset trying to spot fish to cast at in the deeper water.
On any other tide it's probably better to head for the rocks. Plan your
first trip for a rising tide, aim to finish an hour after high water. Dawn
and dusk are good times whatever the state of the tide.
In daylight you'll need to fish fairly deep. That means you're going to hit a lot of weed. It's better to fish deep and lose a few lures, than to fish shallow and hook nothing. In dim light fish will be willing to hit lures that are worked above the weed. Sometimes they'll attack right at the surface, even jumping clear of the water on the take. The first time it happens you'll probably fall off your rock!
Last year I was playing a good mackerel from a reef in Bantry bay when a pollack rocketed out of the depths, threw a gallon and a half of water in the air, and crash dived with my fish in it's jaws. The reel screamed, I clamped down, and the hook tore out. That mackerel weighed over a pound. If you can see fish, they can see you. Walk quietly. Dress soberly. Be aware of your background. Matt varnish your rod. Keep your eyes open.
If you can see fry in the water, fish a similar sized lure at the same depth. Try different lures until you succeed. Expect to use small lures in June and gradually increase the sizes. By November you may be using four inch long doubles. In April and May you might need to tie them at five inches or larger.
Retrieve your lure at the speed that a fish of that size might be expected to travel. Don't allow any slack line. If you spot a following fish, don't slow down, retrieve faster, he'll think his meal is getting away.
Small lures may be taken very gently. In strong tidal currents with large lures the bites can be unbelievably savage. Use relatively strong leaders, they'll turn over better and you'll need the extra strength.
Keep the rod well up when playing a fish, and hold it as hard as you dare. Some species specialise in crash dives into kelp or rock crevices, if you don't bully them from the start you'll lose them.
Once you've caught a few you'll find the beachcasting chaps will regard you differently. Some of them'll go and get some identical gear to yours and join in...