Part two of the report on the first sea outings with a pedal kayak — time to tune the drive, and the water was generous with the catch: a barracuda, horse mackerel, and a strong fish that couldn’t be identified on the spot.

The drive flexes, the propeller hits the hull

After the last outing it became clear: under hard pedaling, the drive flexes toward the hull wall, and the propeller catches the bottom. Yesterday’s wind was fairly strong, with gusts up to 8-10 m/s; today it’s noticeably calmer, though remnants of that front are still visible on the horizon. Paddling feels brisker than pedaling, even though the specs suggest the two should be comparable in speed. It turned out the drive’s plastic foot plug was sitting raised — right there on the water, rocking on the swell, a temporary field fix was rigged up to remove the play. It’s a stopgap: the plan is to 3D-print a proper part and look for ready-made solutions online in the meantime.

A barracuda bite, mackerel for dinner, and a nameless fish

A multi-lure garland rig — not really a favorite, but fair is fair: it worked fast, with barely a pause between fish. First up was a small but very beautiful barracuda, which managed to nip a finger before heading back into the sea — beautiful fish always get released here. Next came another fish: strong, bright, shimmering in the sun, definitely not a mackerel, though it was never identified — it pulled hard enough to leave nothing but guesses about what a bigger one would feel like. Then came the horse mackerel, small ones first, then bigger, forcing a slight loosening of the drag. There were bites on the previous trip too, likely because those flies had thin “paper-like” foam wings that fish were nibbling through. The fresh, local horse mackerel turned out to be delicious once fried — not dry, not too bony. The bycatch also included a roundish fish resembling a small bream.

The drop-off, landmarks, and dreams of tuna

The key moment of the day was the drop-off: the line where turquoise water abruptly turns darker, visible right from the surface as a sharp band. The kayak was drifting along it toward shore, and spots like this are considered the most promising for fishing. Experimenting with the tuna-style rig didn’t pan out — it couldn’t be made to dive, so it just ran along the surface, and there’s little faith in a hard strike right at the surface film; what’s needed is a downrigger or a deep-diving lure. So it was back to the tried-and-tested working rig instead. Two vertical red-brick stripes on a hotel onshore served as the landmark for the starting point — moving left and deeper from there landed right on what looked like the tuna drop-off opposite the hotel: the water there is even darker, and the band of the drop-off is clearly visible. A jellyfish drifted by, and nearby a tandem kayak with anglers sped off under electric motors. The pedaling held the pulse around 125 the whole time — about like brisk walking or light jogging. Unlike a motor kayak, where you just pull the cord and go, here your legs have to keep working whether you like it or not — and that, the author admits, is exactly what’s most appealing about it: motorboats will out-fish it, but this isn’t about the catch, it’s about active recreation.