Once In A Lifetime - Mulleting Abroad
 

For many it’s that time of the year to look forward to!  A holiday to recharge the batteries after the daily grind of work. Long, relaxed days on the beach in the sunshine, a swim in cool and refreshing crystal-clear water, followed by a few drinks, (or two or three or more!), maybe  a show or two, whatever it is that takes your fancy, and, if you are an angler, (whisper it low), maybe a few snatched hours to try the local fishing hotspots whilst the rest of the family are otherwise occupied.

For years the thought of the hassle of taking a fishing rod through air port check outs just didn’t seem worth the trouble and effort.  However, now there is such a good range of quality travelling rods, either multi-jointed or telescopic, you should always consider packing one if there are fishing opportunities available.

Over the last few years I have fished all over the world using ultra lightweight gear, (basically Mullet gear), to catch a variety of species, normally using nothing more complicated than a small piece of bread paste or flake as bait.  On one such notable occasion fishing a stunning rock mark in Cuba and catching beautiful purple-blue fish in iridescent colours of between 1 to 2 lbs, I watched open-mouthed, as out of nowhere, a triangular fin announced a Shark, which calmly glided towards the frantically struggling fish on the end of my line, engulfed it and promptly disappeared again into the depths.!!!

But I digress so back to my story.  …………..

A very wise and delightful acquaintance liked to provide me with a proverb on most days of my recent holiday.  On this morning Rahul said to me, ”Life is long.  Time is short.”  At that moment I had been contemplating whether there was enough time to go fishing!   We had berthed at Ajaccio in Corsica, a place I had visited previously (for history buffs the birth place of Napoleon), but we were due to sail again in just three hours.  With his words echoing through my mind, I decided to have a quick session for Mullet in the harbour.

Corsica is a beautiful place.  Ajaccio is set against a backdrop of majestic hills and mountains clothed in trees that cascade down to a jumble of tiny orange tiled villages, with miles of beautiful and lonely beaches, the cerulean blue sea crystal clear and inviting. The picturesque town here seems frozen in time.  Basking in the gentle warmth of the Mediterranean sun it slumbers gently, with its sheltered harbour, the quays full of moored tiny, brightly coloured fishing boats, bobbing gently amongst the piles of red and brown fishing nets, heaped in an untidy clutter on the quayside.

Fishing Boats & Nets on Quayside Ajaccio Harbour, Corsica June 2007 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

And so it was that armed with my Shimano Exage portable rod, a lightweight reel loaded with 4lb line, a few tackle items, and a supply of bread rolls, I arrived on a narrow quayside where many of the fishing boats were moored.  Encouragingly, some locals were also fishing in different parts of the harbour.

The water at this point was very deep, but so incredibly clear that the bottom could easily be made out.  Thousands of tiny fish were swimming about, but the bright morning sunshine and clarity of water were going to be challenging indeed.

Mashing up some bread rolls for ground bait, I threw a few balls in to the water.  From all directions masses of small fish appeared attacking the bread in a suicidal frenzy.  Further down, some slightly larger shapes appeared giving hope of better things to come.

Setting up carefully with a tiny float and short-shanked number 8 hook, I plumbed the depth and adjusted the sliding float by way of a stop knot until it was a few inches from the sea bed.  More ground bait was introduced and a piece of paste attached to the hook.  Casting in, I ignored the frantic milling and gyrating of the small fish attacking the ground bait.  Within minutes the float bobbed, then drew smoothly away.  A firm strike was rewarded by a juddering and jerking on the rod top; and soon afterwards a pretty little Bream with yellow stripes was landed, only to be quickly returned after an admiring glance.

This spelled the end of the action.  The tiny fish raced around at will but no more bites were forthcoming.  It had gone completely dead.

The harbour dreamed lazily on with nothing much happening.  The gentle lapping of the water was only disturbed by the occasional returning fishing boat.  Still, it was a beautiful place to spend some time and so I quietly absorbed the atmosphere.  The ground bait was attracting ever more tiny fish whilst my float remained obstinately unmoving.  A few pieces of bread roll floated on the surface, slowly being carried further away into the harbour.  Nothing appeared to be happening or was it?!!…………

Fishing Boats, Ajaccio Harbour, Corsica June 2007 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

The gentle breeze was taking the floating crusts out even further across the harbour.  Very quietly, almost imperceptibly, a portion of crust disappeared from the surface in a lazy swirl.  A Mullet, and quite a sizeable one, had been attracted by the floating fragments!  Experimentally, I introduced more crusts in the general direction of the fish.  Suddenly, from nowhere, numbers of Mullet appeared, and started to attack the bread with increasing confidence, with great glooping and slurping splashes!  The bright sunlight and distance made it difficult to see exactly what was going on but clearly there were some big fish in amongst the shoal.

I kept the supply of crusts going as I retrieved my tackle.  Now I adjusted the float so that all the weight was directly below it with a foot of line below the surface which would sink down slowly and naturally.

Mike Bailey fishing on Quayside Ajaccio Harbour, Corsica June 2007 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

I was concentrating totally on the area where the bread crusts were disappearing with increasing regularity. Carefully flicking my float outwards it landed without the semblance of a splash amongst the feeding fish.  Previous experience of this form of fishing had warned me that bites, if they came, would be absolutely instantaneous.  Within a second the float had gone.  The strike was immediate but the fish had stripped the bait and gone.  Re-baiting with shaking hands I recast…with the same result!!  The fish were feeding greedily and taking my hook bait at will.  Three more missed bites and muttered curses under my breath and then that magical moment.  The float disappeared and my strike was rewarded by a solid and heavy thumping.  A good-sized fish appeared briefly on the surface and then the float shot backwards as the hook came out.  No matter, the boiling swirls in the water continued and within moments the float had gone again, and this time there was no mistake. A Mullet of between 2 and 3 lbs tore off, giving a tremendous account of itself  before being beaten some 5-10 minutes later.  As I had no net I led it to some steps at the end of the quay and after a struggle managed to unhook and gently release it to swim off unharmed.

Mike Bailey releases a Mullet back into Ajaccio Harbour, Corsica June 2007 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

The commotion didn’t seem to have affected the shoal of fish too much but they had moved further out and were now right at the extreme range of my casting.  It was difficult to judge against the glare of the sun but some of the fish looked very large indeed.

The same pattern continued.  Within a few seconds of casting the float would disappear violently, followed by a rapid strike and a missed bite.  And then it happened.   Quite out of the blue, the float sank and held down.  The resultant strike saw the rod bend right over.  For a micro second a HUGE shape, like a submerged log, lay immobile, just below the surface.  The Mullet had not yet worked out what was happening and simply lay there, swirling mightily on the surface.  I’ve caught thousands of Mullet, including some big fish, and I knew what was coming next.

Nor was I to be disappointed!!!  Suddenly recognising the danger, the fish exploded from the surface like a depth charge, and line screamed from the reel against the clutch in a wailing crescendo with the rod in its full test curve.  I daren’t put too much pressure on the fish but I had to try to control it as it raced across the harbour towards distant moorings.  The line was singing under the pressure as I desperately tried to turn it.  The power and force of the fish on such light tackle was awe inspiring but the steady pressure told, until finally it stopped in a series of heart-stopping lunges.

Until that moment I hadn’t had time to think.  Here I was with a massive Mullet attached and no landing net.  But that as they say, was for the future.  The fish was now fully awake and very angry indeed.  The chances of landing such a fish in a harbour full of snags, on such fragile gear, meant that the odds were still very much with the fish.  The next fifteen minutes were full of alarms and near misses as the fish showed not the slightest sign of weakening.

In any long fight there is always a critical moment.  So far the fish had obliged by letting me play it at long distance but without warning it swam powerfully towards the inner harbour and the refuge of the moored fishing boats.  As it swam towards them I had no choice but to hold the fish hard.  Hanging on for grim death, the rod creaked under the pressure.  Right under my feet, the fish dived and twisted as it tried to swim underneath the nearest boat seeking the sanctuary of the moorings.  This prolonged battle, right under his boat, attracted a local fisherman, who was mending his nets; later he was to provide salvation.

One more desperate lunge and the fish gave up the idea of the moored boats and swam outwards again.  This time it went deep, horribly deep.  The bottom was littered with all the debris that is often found in fishing harbours, and I resigned myself to feeling the line slacken as it was cut by a snag, but my luck continued to hold.

Amazingly the fish still hadn’t finished.  More powerful runs followed, but it was starting to weaken and staying away from the many obstacles.  Slowly, but surely I was winning.  Fortunately, I have a little French. And so I called across to the fisherman who was still watching with interest, “ Monsieur, est-ce-que vous avez un filet, parce-que j’ai attrape un grand Mulet?”  Basically I was asking if he had a net on board as I was hooked into a very big mullet!!! (which should be right up there at the front of your French/English phrase book if you are an angler, far more useful than ,“Which way is to the train station please?” especially when attached to such a memorable fish.)

To my joy and horror in equal parts, this Corsican saviour appeared with a net that might have landed a sizeable Mackerel, but if I could I would have sworn undying love to the Republic, sung la Marseillaise, and kissed and hugged him all at the same time..  As it was I was still rather occupied with the increasingly frantic lunging and jerking of the rapidly tiring fish

Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, the fish rolled over and lay there.  Now came the truly difficult part.  There was only one way to land the fish and that was to guide it head first into the tiny net.  With the help of a spectator this was done; with the fish half in and half out of the net. Then the fish thrashed about and the line snapped, but a rapid heave upwards and the fish was lying there on the quay.  The fishing gods were well and truly with me that day!

Mike bailey holds his Mullet Ajaccio Harbour, Corsica June 2007 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

After so many years of fishing for Mullet, there lay before me a fish to be proud of, and the more pleasing, because it had been taken against all the odds,  How big was the fish?  I’ll never know, (although I’ve had them to seven and three quarter pounds in the past in the U.K.)

Mike Bailey holds his monster Mullet around 8 lbs Ajaccio Harbour, Corsica June 2007 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

I had no scales and most certainly I wasn’t going to keep it to find out.  It was a long fish, and enormously thick and well-proportioned. The portable rod case I had with me measured 30 inches and it was only 4 or 5 inches short of that making it over two feet long.   Really big Mullet are very few and far between.  Yes, I’ve had hundreds over 4lb and a good few over 5lb but once you get beyond 6lb they are really quite rare, (with the possible exception of the Channel Islands where there are many huge fish still to be taken).

Anyway, a few quick shots of the fish and then it was time to gently lower it back into the water.  It lay there for a few moments recovering and then with a powerful kick of that great paddle of a tail it had gone.

But the memories of that fish caught in such a wonderful setting will remain forever, together with the extraordinary power of the ensuing fight.  It was time to return to the ship and leave Ajaccio but by seizing the moment and using it I had caught a fish to remember, even though I only had a few hours to do so.

My wise friend was right, “Life is long.  Time is short.”

Use the chances you get and don’t waste the moment.  For me that includes ALWAYS packing a travel rod and fishing gear unless I’m visiting the Gobi Desert or climbing Mount Everest!

One of the great attractions of fishing is its complete unpredictability.  There is always that uncertainty and anticipation in equal measure at the start of every fishing trip, and sometimes it can all come together to give you a magical moment to cherish and recall.

I hope this tale inspires you to enjoy your holidays abroad, and to make the most of any fishing opportunities that come your way.  Good luck and travel hopefully.