Duration:5-30-8.30ish
Tide:Fished over HW
Weather:Nice, baltic though.
Bait:Saturdays Leftovers including, lug, crab, mack, sandeel, oh and some of the colonels finest....
Rigs:3 hook of various varieties mostly.
Results:JP 42 fish for 1691 points
, Sean 22 for 811, Myself 30 for 1081 
. All whiting bar 2 coalies and a poultry dog.Report:
Following on from the rather poor fishing the previous day in the Munster Open, (well for some of us anyhow...) The call came for another foray into Youghal to use up the leftover bait. The only way to keep the Rampent fella happy and interested is to fish a mini comp (ie massage the ego a little more, the needy git....
) so that is what we did. With the tide flooding hard, short casts of 30 or so yards to start off with had a flood of fish coming in. Doubles, trebles, whiting not even hooked but lasooed around the nose etc etc. Manic fishing. I managed to beat my feat of hauling in 5 flounder in one recently by retrieving another lost trace of mine with 3 whiting attached along with the 3 on the other regulation trace. (6 hook flappers, ye cant beat them.... ) Lot of lads in the area fishing, our own Ferg amongst them, had nothing it seemed to report other than those whiting pests.A couple of hours into it, and with JP hammering treble after treble merrily on his peg with myself and Seanie nto wanting to chicken out from what was becoming a massacre of sorts, wondering when it would be appropriate to concede defeat, a plan was hatched..... Purely for research purposes you understand...
In the back of the jeep was the remnants of the previous days KFC, with our poultry supply of worms almost exhausted, it seemed only natural to turn to an even more sustainable, easily collected (drive thru), environmentally friendly, carbon low (unless overcooked), tasty substitute. After all, Whiting has a delicate, almost chicken like flavour (maybe that has more to do with the dodgy takeaways I frequent frying there chicken in the fish fat, who knows... 
) That dubious connection made, we all grabbed a bit. JP, being a breast man, opted for the crispy strip, a nice piece of breast meat with a crunchy coating. Sean, a little more refined went for a tasty strip of thigh with some of the colonels secret coating attached whereas, me, being the pig that I am went for a lovely bit of greasy skin.... Well, what do you know, those clucking whiting were on it again with, surprise surprise, the biggest whiting of the day at 37cms falling to JPs crispy strip. A nice one for me of 33 on the skin with Seanies thighs being totallly ignored (not it has to be said, for the first time over the weekend either.....
) Eggsactly the results we were hoping for..... No more backbreaking sessions lug digging, no more scandalous prices for live bait, no, all you need is 8 or 9 quid for a nice large 3 piece variety meal at the drive through in Little Island with the added bonus that you get to drink the coke and eat the chips yourself.... In these tricky financial times, thats a bargain Eddie Hobbs himself would surely endorse. A variety of baits in a box, probably better off eating the thighs yourself though, those whiting dont seem to be too fond of the dark meat.A regroup at the somewhat inappropriately named, but really rather nice (and reasonable too it has to be said), Pak Fook chinese restaurant in Youghal had the cards counted and the Rampent fella declared the winner. Not won-tonning to burst the fellas bubble you see, (these Angling Athletes are of a sensitive disposition, very highly strung...), myself and Sean were only too happy to be the whipping boys on this occasion and amid mutterings of didn't really try, couldnt be bothered, let you win etc we set off on our merry way home.
A cracking nights entertainment and a highly enjoyable way of blowing the cobwebs off from the previous day with a ball of fish. Loads of decent table sized fish amongst them and it will be whiting suppers for a day or two (helen, are you listening.....I want them fish filleted by the time I get home!
)
must lift the remains of yesterdays chickhen out of the bin 
