A Wild Monday Night Bass Fishing Adventure on the South side of the Llyn Peninsula
This past Monday night, I set off for the South Side of the Llyn Peninsula, hoping the conditions would play in my favor. I had a dilemma with wind and tide
The forecast predicted a 16 mph south-southwest wind, which, combined with a 4.2-meter tide, made me question whether it was worth the trip. Low water would be manageable, but the swell could make things tricky. Still, the lure of a potential bass was too strong to resist. The wise thing would have been not to go, but I had to.
With the car packed, I embarked on the two-hour, 100-mile journey. Spotify kept me company—lure angling podcasts, music, and talkSPORT radio filling the silence as the miles rolled by.
Not the most organised of packing the car this time.
Arrival: Peaceful… Too Peaceful?
I pulled into a quiet lay-by, the sound of the sea immediately noticeable. “That’s not good,” I thought. If I could hear the waves from here, they were probably bigger than I’d hoped.
The 25-minute walk to the mark was uneventful, but as I reached the rocks, I was relieved to see the sea had decent clarity and minimal weed. The waves were modest, for now.
A Promising Start :
I started casting between the breakers, and almost immediately, I hooked into a tiny bass. “Not a bad start,” I thought. At least fish were around; maybe the bigger ones would come out after dark. Three more Bass came of a similar size.
I find the Komomo 11 flashing plate a hit at dusk;
But as the hours passed, the bites dried up. The darkness settled in, and by 22:30 hours, the tide was flooding hard, the waves growing more aggressive. I climbed higher onto the rocks, trying to stay safe while keeping my line in the water.
The Perils of Night Fishing:
By midnight, I was questioning my night’s fishing choices. Weed clogged my line, waves crashed dangerously close, and the darkness made every movement precarious. On top of all that, I’d forgotten my staff-my third leg.”One last cast,”* I told myself.
I tied on a Cotton Candy Noeby 110, sending it into the churning water. Almost instantly, something slammed the lure and took off with a heavy, angry pull. “This is a good fish!” They always seem to fight harder in big seas.
A Battle in the Chaos:
The bass fought hard, thrashing its head downwards as waves smashed into me. I flicked on my head torch, trying to manoeuvre the fish onto a flat rock nearby. The first attempt failed, a massive wave swept the bass past me, but miraculously, it was still hooked.
On the third try, disaster struck, CRACK! My beloved Seabass Custom rod snapped at the tip. The 9ft 7″ was now an 8 ft 7″ rod, “Ouch… that’s expensive,”£140 for a new tip from Chesil Beach tackle shop. I grimaced. But the fish was still on, and I wasn’t giving up.
Another wave surged, lifting the bass almost into my lap. I grabbed it by the gills, only for a treble hook to puncture my finger. “Great.”
I was delighted to land this angry bass in very tricky conditions.
Victory (At a Cost)
With the fish secured, I had to navigate the treacherous rocks in the dark. I climbed down the rocks and leaped into about four feet of water, landing on soft sand and pebbles before scrambling to shore, not before a few further waves walloped me in the backside.
The bass measured 61cm, my scales initially claimed 8lb, unbelievable! A second weigh-in showed 4kg, but this fish had an enormous head, so maybe it was possible. I’m still not sure, normally a fish this length would be between 5-6lb
As I admired my hard-earned catch, I glanced at my broken rod. “Ah, well… it’s only money,” I sighed. That’s another unforgettable adventure in the books.
The long walk back and two-hour drive home were exhausting, but as I finally collapsed into bed at 4 am, I couldn’t help but smile.
Thanks for reading, tight lines all.
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