Tackling the Kelp Beds By Bob Longmore of Australia. In an earlier piece - Fishing at Trow Rocks - I recalled going out on the rocky outliers of limestone on the coast between Frenchmans Bay and Camel Island, fishing for the brightly coloured rock cod which swam there. In these days such expeditions would I think be deeply frowned upon for yes, they did incur great degrees of danger and daring but were nevertheless part of our fishing adventures. My Uncle Matt Boville introduced me to some of his favourite places and he was known to catch some good-sized cod during his trips. A man of great experience, Matt carried only a small, tattered haversack and used a simple handline to fish those waters. I think the key to his success was the knowledge he carried in his memory. The low, neap tides, the 44 to 46 footers, were the ones to especially look for when acres of kelp jungle would be exposed and you could venture far out. Mind you, don't let me say we were reckless fools; we were not and took great care to check our back trail and the condition of the tide. Quite often those tides fell from a calm, oily sea and were bliss! We knew that going out on an ebbing tide would allow an hour or two of good fishing before we had to hasten back before the rising waters covered those narrow paths of connecting rock. Once at our chosen 'possy' we laid out our handlines or rod, bait boxes and tackle bags, those old haversacks, and set to, to do some fishing. The tackle chosen was strong but with what we called a 'rotten bottom', a piece of lower breaking strain line between the plunder (lead) and the main line, so that if we fouled weed or rocks we could break it free. Or at least that was the general idea. It was a laugh to sometimes watch the antics of some of the lads trying to free a snagged line straining against the breaking strain, cutting hands and grooving arms wrapped in a protective anorak sleeve! For to stand at least some chance of success you had to get your bait down into the depths of the kelp jungle where the big fish lurked. The formula was big lines, big hooks and certainly big baits. We used mussel, bought by the quart from Annie Sparks in her shop under the South Shields railway arches near the station, peeler and soft crab or ragworm and big helpings of each - didn't bother to cut the old bait off just wrapped more on using thread or combed lambs' wool until you had a bait the size of a hen's egg at least. There were big rewards for our ventures especially in the form of a good-sized red, brown and green rock cod dragged fighting and twisting from its rock and kelp lair. And didn't it taste fantastic from its diet of crabs, worms and shellfish, and spiced by the thrill of the capture? My favourite was the whole cod, just gutted, topped and tailed then oven baked in milk with parsley dumplings. Excuse me while I drool on the memory. Fishing out there on those rocks was the great unknown and we didn't miss the opportunity to search out crabs and lobsters if the rock strata were shelved and accessible; always worth a look. We also kept an eye open for any bits of snagged fishing tackle revealed at low tide, sometimes we were lucky and were able to retrieve some good plunders (leads) and swivels. I do remember one guy, this time on the south side of the South Pier, just before the crane, scrambling up to me with this absolutely massive common edible crab which had managed to latch itself onto that bit of meat between the thumb and forefinger and no matter how much he tried he couldn't separate the crab from his hand! His hand was gored with the points of the claw deeply embedded and even after breaking the claw from the crab it still wouldn't release. I think he went up to the hospital to find a solution to his obvious problem - there was no way he would allow us to smash the claw with a rock! Mind you he also had a bagful of plunders retrieved from the rocks below the Pier wall and wouldn't let those go - got to get your priorities right, eh? One of the most recent times I walked the cliff tops was about 1997 on one of my last visits to South Shields, just before Mam passed away. It still looked grand and very inviting, but there were no fishermen out there that I could see. In the old days, it was quite common to see the 'lads' fishing out on those rocks and on the Shelf and Point at Frenchmans Bay at high tide. Did you ever fish the Shelf at night with your mates, your only illumination a kero lamp? Have the old habits died? Is there just too much silt pollution from the colliery tips further down the coast? Are there even any fish? Perhaps not, but let me tell you there are still many memories in those kelp beds and rock gullies we used to fish! Bob Longmore - 2004