Most anglers have a favourite species, the capture or pursuit of which brings a special significance. Early memories, good days or catches, maybe a particular turning point in the anglers career, come together in that moment when it is landed. For me , it is flatfish, and particularly the humble flounder, one of the first fish I caught by design. There are other fish that are prettier, fight harder, are more demanding on skills and appeal to me on these terms, but I never land a flounder without being struck by how obliging and adaptable the species is.

The shape of a flatfish, of course, immediately sets it apart from other normal species. And just as the aspirant angler may reach a turning point in his sport, so the flatfish spends its early planktonic stages as a real fish before metamorphosising into the familiar flat shape that marks its true beginnings. They then spread out, each to their chosen habitat, to live their wise lives looking up from the bottom of the ocean world.

The flounder is the greatest adventurer and part of its popularity arises from an ability to inhabit every type of shoreline, from the buffeting wildness of our Atlantic shores to the indulgent laziness of southern estuaries.

It is within these estuaries that the best of flounder fishing can be enjoyed. As winter approaches, they become a much sought after fish and angling for them can be a relaxing break or a science. Large estuaries, such as Wexford Harbour, offer the opportunity of leisurely fishing. If you don’t mind the muck, you could spend all day at one of the many hotspots catching obliging fish that will not make many demands on bait or watercraft. Tackle the same area during a pegged competition when you cannot move, or grapple with the tide runs and heavy weed of one of the smaller estuaries , and you will be forced to work for your catch.

Location of the flounder shoals is the first prerogative. Flounder in estuary conditions travel around in small groups and anglers observance, backed up by scientific evidence, tells us that they follow well defined routes. I have often seen , during estuary competitions, one angler among a group suddenly begin and continue to catch. The anglers either side are using identical gear and baits but not getting a touch. The lucky individual has met a shoal on one of their routes.

Anglers can, of course, help themselves and the golden rule in these environments is to find the hole. Should the estuary have a pronounced channel, then this is the obvious place to try. I remember the first time I was on holiday at Timoleague in West Cork. The angling guide indicated that there were flounder and bass available close to the bridge here. Arriving at high water, I was greeted by an vast expanse of water with little visual indication of where I should cast to. I flogged away with no success for a couple of hours. It was only when I dropped the bait a couple of rodlengths out that the action begun and I had seven flounders and two five pound bass in two hours. All the flounder were over two pounds. Driving past the area later in the day when the tide had dropped, I understood why. The departing water exposed a deep channel running close to the shore. The adjacent ground, where I had spent many unproductive hours, was an unappetising expanse of flat dark mud.

The depth variation does not need to be as evident as in this example. Water only slightly deeper than the surrounding ground will often produce flounder, especially at the drop-off of ledges. Freshwater anglers are well attuned to the attraction of ledges, and sea fish are no different in their preferences.

Many flounder anglers believe in retrieving their baits regularly, inching the gear across the seabed in the hopes of attracting an inquisitive fish. In estuaries, I believe this tactic works, not because of the moving attractant, which is negligible in the normal conditions of suspended silt and mud, but because the gear ends up in a hole or in the path of a travelling band of fish.

Flounders, and flatfish in general, give rise to more fads and fashions than most species, centered around the fishes much publicised curiosity. Baited-Spoons and luminous beads are the favourites. When we used to be able to target plaice off Greystones in the boats, I had some good catches employing a spoon and bead combination, fishing the gear in a sink and draw style, but never anything as decisive on the beach. Again, the murky conditions would seem to negate the effectiveness of lures. Nonetheless, if little is being caught , it only takes one angler to land a couple of fish on a spoon or heavily beaded trace to have everybody frantically searching their boxes.

Booms, too, fall into the category of end gears that cannot be proven to increase catches but on occasion seem to make a difference. A three hooked gear with booms looks pleasing to the anglers eye and gives the impression that it will do the business. Booms definitely alter the lie of a trace in the tide, and the setting of the bait in relation to the main body of the gear, but in a way that is little understood.

The weight provided by booms is an obvious advantage, ensuring that the baits are on the seabed where the flounder searches. It is very important to keep the gear nailed down otherwise the top hooks serve only as groundbait. Most successful estuary anglers keep their rod-tips very low to the ground and often with a belly of slack line between tip and trace. Another trick I like to use is to attach a small bomb to the top of the trace to ensure that it is on the bottom.

An important point for newcomers to remember is that the depth of mud in some estuaries is phenomenal. As a young angler, I travelled to fish the Wexford festival in Kaats Strand, at that time commonly referred to as the home of the flounder. From stories and reports, I anticipated some exciting angling but was amazed to land no fish while others around me were hauling them in. I was also puzzled at the apparent snags I pulled free from every time I retrieved. It was only after three fishless days that my mates informed me that my baits had been buried in the mud for most of the time !. You may be quicker than me, but after casting, always check that your gear has not disappeared into the slime !.

Flounders are renowned for being a species that favours the first fifty yards of any shoreline and one that do not require casting skills. This is not always the case and if you fished all day at this distance on some venues, you would be lucky to catch anything. Again, it is a question of finding the fish and their routes which may not always be so close inshore. The man doing the pendulum with a clipped down gear may look out of place on a tranquil shoreline, but fish are practical creatures, and care little for the ethics of how they come to be presented with a free meal.

Compared to estuary fish, open beach flounder, with their long tails and angular bodies, can almost be viewed as a separate species. On the east coast shingle beaches, they are often taken by good casters, and bite in a more ferocious manner than their mud-dwelling cousins. On these shorelines, the flounder is a great wanderer, and unless concentrated by a feature such as a stream crossing the shore, are likely to feed at any distance. This pattern is borne out on many venues. My theory is that where flounders are the dominant species, they form shoals, but in a competitive environment , they disperse, each to their own.

On the sandier , shallow open-beach venues, the fish will usually be found closer to the shore, following tightly behind the small ripples of a rising tide. A rolling gear is the best choice in this situation, using light leads, long snoods and plenty of movement . It is the ideal environment for the angler who is a messer, trying little tricks and alterations to tempt the fish, and can be extremely skillful. The pleasure comes with the experimenting, not the size of the fish.

One principle that is commonly accepted across all the various environments is that a biting flounder must be given time and not struck. The first pluck at the rod tip is a signal for the angler to release some line, turn away and begin baiting up a second trace or go for the traditional flounder walk. Flounder bashers are very sociable fellows, and anglers who are normally tight-lipped will divulge everything during the long bouts of inactivity that result from this pursuit ! Some anglers fish by the clock rather than by evidence of a fishy presence. Leaving the gear out for half an hour may mean only ten casts over a five hour competition, but you may be guaranteed a fish on every cast.

The most important bait for estuary flounder is crab, and loads of it. Big male peelers, splitting along the side and full of yellow gunge are the favourite. Cut in half, they provide substantial mouthfuls. It is important that the crab are popping and that all the shell can be removed. I never feel confidant fishing a bait containing hard grisly lumps. Ragworm of all species are the second choice over mud but come into their own on sandy venues. A small rag or lug, tipped off with a number of maddies, (small harbour rag) and further tipped with a tiny piece of mackerel is very good on northern beaches. Lug tipped with mackerel can be good on the steeper sand beaches . It is a popular bait in winter but not one that I have much success on in estuaries, where I prefer straight lug . Winter on the shingle beaches produce fish to lug tipped with mussel but the flounder, as befits its adaptability, will fall to most of the common baits.

As I write, the first frosts of the winter are being predicted. At this time of year , I always think of crisp days on the estuary, the fishing sociable or contemplative , relaxed or intense as the angler chooses. The mixture of waters , fresh and salt, of seasons, hot and cold create a special atmosphere .

I think how accommodating this small fish is to the sea-angler, available for most of the year from one end of the country to the other in all manner of conditions, yet taken so much for granted. Never lordly enough to be considered a master, in the various environments it is a great survivor, going about its business in an unassuming way. There is always more than one dimension to any aspect of angling. To complete the picture, catch an estuary flounder between now and the new year, and bear witness to the species in its prime.