Dive report: Spearfishing at The Cribbar

Couple of hundred metres offshore from Towan Headland, about to spearfish over the Cribbar

I've never seen anyone spearfishing at The Cribbar. I've seen people spearfishing around Towan Headland, I've done it plenty of times. I've nudged out a little further onto the reef, but till this day, I've never dived the region of reef where the big waves heaves up. I make this claim after surfing Cribbar for 16 years, and staring out over it from the surf school for 13 years. Of course on this day, the swell wasn't running at 12 feet. There was a lot of water moving around though and it was CHOPPY. You could say it was no country for old men, but there we were - Dario and I. I didn't confirm Dario's age but I'd estimate between us we had made over a hundred trips around the sun. We stood at the harbour of refuge, about to jump into the sandy soup swilling around the blocks. One minute later we were shooting out in a bouncy, turbulent rip opaque with particulate matter and kelp streaming everywhere. It was mayhem. I looked over my shoulder, Dario was right on my fins and looking well within his comfort zone. Earlier that week, Dario came to the surf school and said he wanted to spearfish. I asked if he'd been before, and he just said, "yes, I have. I just want to get in for a dive". Something in the delivery told me that Dario had far more spearfishing experience than he cared to tell me about. I was right. Later I learned that Dario's deepest dive was 70 metres. On one breath, no scuba apparatus. Clearly he was suitably qualified for any diveable water that Newquay could offer during late August.

Finning out in the current at Little Fistral

On the day, I decided we'd head out to Cribbar. I thought that this would give the best chance of fish, and some interesting terrain for Dario. After finning around the reef just off of Towan Headland, Dario asked where we could go to really get some fish. Bobbing around in the sea, we didn't have many options. So I decided we should head out to the Cribbar take off spot. It's a big swim, and we kept going till I triangulated our position, using my trusty transit lines, directly over the pinnacle on the reef where the Cribbar wave breaks in huge swells. Dario went straight down into a 90 second dive. To say he was a man in possession of an efficient cardio respiratory system would be like saying the Porsche 911 GT3 RS has 'good grip'. A bit more swimming and diving later, and Dario resurfaced with a casual 'yep', and produced a huge bar of silver: a 60 cm Cribbar bass. Taken right from the Cribbar reef. There were a lot of bass running down there among the caves, holes and kelp.

Dario goes under

The tide started to push. Out there, it never goes slack. It's either pulling or pushing. We drifted with the current, diving, finning, all the way around to the Gazzle to exit at the Z-Walk. If you haven't been, the Z-Walk is really the world's smallest harbour. There's enough room to berth a rowing boat but a very substantial switch back path hewn into the rock, hence the name Z-Walk. Happily the grassy area up top was free from the persistent alcoholic miscreants who have contributed to trashing the Little Fistral car park area in 2026. I explained to Dario that no one has spearfished out there before that I knew of, and I didn't expect that I'd ever see anyone do it again. Back at the surf school, I showed him a photo of the wave breaking in a full rage. It was amusing to see this very cool, composed guy say, 'oh!' with a brief widening of the eyes. Despite many seasons in oceans around the world, he was absolutely not beyond letting himself be surprised.

The colourful kelp around the northern side of Towan Headland was a welcome relief

Dario gifted the bass to me. I said that the hotel chefs would prepare it for him. He explained that while he was very good at catching bass, and cooking them, he could not stand the taste of fish. "It is a curse!". Ha, maybe so, but also a blessing for those around him.