Looe Cornwall - Octopus Blooms and Ochlophobia

It had all started with a wet dream not the metaphorical sort, but a very literal one, involving me on a windswept Cornish rock, heroically locked in battle with a wrasse the size of a small spaniel and the rain belting down like tsunami. 

It was majestic. I woke up convinced that fate, in all her fishy wisdom, was sending me a message. 

So we booked Looe for May half term: a place where dreams (and, more often, rain) come true. 

The kids were thrilled about buckets, sand, and potentially traumatising a few crabs with bacon-on-a-string. 

Sarah looked forward to cream teas and pasties and judging me silently from a safe, dry distance. And I? I had one mission to catch a wrasse. A big one. 

The kind of wrasse that fishermen whisper about and the sea herself respects. 

Looe, I had read, was a haven for such things: with rocky outcrops at Hannafore, charter boats galore, and that uniquely Cornish atmosphere where optimism persists despite skies that constantly threaten to weep on you. Now considering how many times I've been sea fishing now, I've yet to catch a UK wrasses which I find bizarre. I thought they were the nuisance fish ? well send some my way please. 

I envisioned myself as a sort of aquatic Hemingway, battling my leviathan through gusty winds and sideways drizzle, while holidaymakers in kagoules murmured in awe. Sam wanted to go on a mackerel fishing trip (a shark might pull me in) so rather than book it up before, the plan was to wait to get down there first and try and book a trip when the weather looked like it might be fair. 

I caught some decent rockpool giants when I was at Looe last time so I actually packed a few rods. A light lrf set-up, a rod with a float set-up and my usual lure rod to try and mix it up a bit. 

Now the The history of fishing off the coast of Looe, Cornwall, is a rich and salty tale stretching back centuries one of hard lives, strong communities, and the enduring pull of the sea. Looe’s natural geography—a sheltered estuary with easy access to abundant coastal waters made it an ideal base for fishing since medieval times. Records from the 12th and 13th centuries already mention fishing activities, with local fishermen primarily working small open boats close to shore, targeting mackerel, pilchards (a Cornish staple), and herring.

By the 14th century, Looe was trading fish and salt to France and Spain, and it grew steadily as both a port and market town. Its fishing fleet gradually expanded, and by the 18th and 19th centuries, Looe was part of Cornwall’s thriving pilchard industry.

Pilchards were once the lifeblood of Cornish fishing towns. In the 18th and 19th centuries, Looe was bustling during the "season" when huge shoals would arrive in late summer. Entire families were involved in the industry: men at sea, women salting and packing the fish into barrels, and children running errands or gutting.

These fish were salted and pressed in large “pilchard palaces” before being exported often to Catholic countries like Italy and Spain, where fish was in high demand during religious fasting periods. But like many boom industries, it didn’t last. Overfishing, changes in climate, and the decline in European demand saw the pilchard industry wane by the early 20th century.

In the mid-20th century, Looe gained a quirky claim to fame as the unofficial shark fishing capital of Britain. Recreational shark angling especially for blue shark and porbeagle became wildly popular, attracting anglers from all over the UK. The Shark Angling Club of Great Britain, founded in Looe in 1953, still operates today and is dedicated to responsible, catch-and-release fishing. It reflects a unique cultural shift: from fishing for food to fishing for sport and sustainability.

Now once absent from UK waters for decades, Atlantic bluefin tuna those powerful, torpedo-shaped giants capable of growing over 2.5 metres and weighing more than 600 kg have returned to Cornish seas, and Looe is right at the centre of the action. 

Bluefin tuna were historically caught off the southwest coast of England, including around Looe, but commercial overfishing and changing sea temperatures drove them away by the mid-20th century. For years, they were nothing more than a sea tale whispered by old anglers.

That's has all changed now, you can even get yourself on a charter boat to catch one if you don't mind spending a pretty penny. For 50 quid Sam and I went on a 2 hour mackerel fishing trip where despite fishing 5 different spots the whole boat of around 12 anglers only managed a handful of mackerel and a few pollock. 

Luckily we managed both species and we certainly picked the best afternoon to go fishing it was perfect really fishing in 90ft of water in the main and jigging those feathers. I think Sam and I was struggle to do more than a couple of hours, well unless there was loads of fish to be caught.

Apparently those after shellfish have been picking up lots of decent size octopus Regulators are due to meet fishing industry representatives as the sector grapples with an "explosion" of octopus in British waters, where a friend of one of the skippers Dan on Sowenna managed 900kg of them worth about £6k the day before we went fishing apparently. 

Was that anything to do with the struggle to catch fish ?

I tried some rockpool fishing and also some float fishing for wrasse in some tasty looking spots but then in the end decided that plenty of morning walks, and good food and booze throughout the holiday fishing took a back seat.

Another nice trip to Cornwall though and apart from the Tuesday when it peeded down literally all day we had some decent weather thankfully. Especially on the windy days the cloud cover seem to clear pretty quickly but then that can happen in this neck of the woods. It does get busy in these tourist towns such as Looe but within a 10 minute walk you can be in relative solitude, and believe you me I made the most of that !!