It was a lovely summers day and myself and my son Tadhg were at a loose end. My wife Donna had just arrived home from a night shift in the hospital she works in and in order to give her some peace and quiet I wanted to bring Tadhg out somewhere but I was torn with what to do, a playground yet again or something a bit left field.
It was a while since I was fishing and the bug to get out was biting hard but bringing a one year old fishing is not simple. I knew it would have to be somewhere I could wheel his pram easily, and not far from the car as I would have to carry my fishing gear too. I also knew I’d only have about an hour before he got restless and Crankly.
After a root around the freezer I found a pack of frozen crab and suddenly a plan to target smoothound started to come to life.
I loaded the car with Tadhg and his bag as well as my fishing gear and headed for Dalkey, a picturesque village in south Dublin. Once I got through the village I took the narrow winding road to Colimore Harbour a spot I had often fished and I knew I would suit my requirements just fine. I had an idea I wouldn’t have the place to myself as the mackerel bashers just love this place and true to form the harbour was pretty full of eager anglers throwing all manner of feathers and lures into the sea.
Luckily there was a spot left that I could access with a pram and fish safely, so I made my way past the lads, getting the gist of the story that the mackerel aren’t biting today so prepare to be disappointed.
I found a nice flat spot for the pram, gave Tadhg a rusk and started to set up my 14 foot zziplex beachcaster and trusty Shimano reel, then I got a pulley rig from my box and whipped a prime peeler crab onto the size 3/0 hook.
The mackerel bashers were sceptical about my hopes ‘you won’t get much other than dog fish here mate’ was muttered more than once, but I had more than dogfish on my mind. I thumped a cast out into the channel in the direction of the nearby Dalkey Island, a beautiful small island inhabited by only goats and rabbits and birds.
I put my rod against the wall and turned to Tadhg to make sure he was OK when I heard one of the mackerel bashers shout I had a bite. I was half expecting it to be just the strong tide that rips between the harbour and the island moving the lead, but I glanced at the tip and was pleasantly surprised by a really positive bite.
I walked over and lifted into the fish and started pumping the reel as hard as I could, for those who haven’t fished Colimore it can be tackle hungry and if you are not careful your rig get snagged in the rough ground close to the shore.
The fish pulled back and by the feisty resistance being put up I knew I was into a hound. The looks I got as a mid sized hound broke the surface were hilarious, and as the fish got to the edge of the wall I had no shortage of help landing the fish.
After that I had an hour of non stop hound action, nothing big but all hard fitting fish that put a smile on both my face and Tadhgs too. As I packed my gear away my thoughts turned to when I got home and explain to my vegetarian, anti blood sport wife where we had spent our afternoon.