When I passed through this area four years ago, I chose the village of Plouarzel for a short stay, as it was an ideal starting point for exploring a long stretch of the Breton coast, culminating in two main spots: Pointe de Corsen and Pointe St. Mathieu. We are in the region of Iroise, roughly corresponding to the extreme northwestern tip of Brittany, whose coast is marked by cliffs and small headlands, interspersed with wide sandy beaches.

I decided to start right away at one of the most interesting points: Pointe St. Mathieu, low and jagged, forming the southern tip of the peninsula where we were, just before the deep inlet of the Bay of Brest. Not knowing the area in detail or how the fish moved, I chose to follow my usual Atlantic strategy—going into the water a couple of hours before high tide, to make the most of the predators’ increased activity. The downside is that in many areas, this stage brings extremely strong tidal currents, which can make diving impossible.

To fish at Pointe St. Mathieu, you can leave your car in the large parking area that accommodates the many tourists attracted not only by the stunning panoramic views but also by the ancient medieval abbey dedicated to the Evangelist Saint.
After suiting up, I crossed the open area where the old building stands and descended the slope along a small trail. This brought me to the sea almost directly beneath the lighthouse, which rises less than 200 meters from the tip.

The impact was quite traumatic due to the predictable strong current flowing toward the point, which I encountered after swimming only a few dozen meters from shore. To avoid being swept away, I had to return close to shore and try to fish by ambush among the swaying kelp, staying on the boundary between the slower waters and the fast-flowing current.

At first, I saw only large Atlantic wrasse typical of these coasts and some schools of mullet and small hake. Eventually, the sea bass began to appear, though I held my fire as they were all under one kilo in weight.
After about an hour and a half battling the current, I began to feel leg fatigue and decided to return—but not before finally managing to catch a decent-sized sea bass.

In the following days, I focused on the imposing Pointe de Corsen, a majestic rock bastion that marks both the westernmost point of mainland France and the southern boundary between the English Channel and the Atlantic Ocean. From above, you can spot irregular rock formations characterizing the tidal zone, with many outcropping rocks stretching hundreds of meters offshore.

It’s no more than 5 kilometers from the cottage I had rented in the countryside around Plouarzel, so I easily found a small road leading to a beach a couple of kilometers north of the point, which I used to explore that section of coastline. Despite the favorable underwater morphology—featuring a forest of kelp with bare rock only in the tidal zone—I saw few fish and caught only one decent sea bass among a group of smaller ones.

I understood the likely reason for the lack of fish the next day when, diving from the beach left of the point (Plage de Corsen), I was followed by one, possibly two grey seals. Again, despite extending my exploration from the rocks below the promontory to the outermost outcrops, I saw very few sea bass, managing just one catch.

A later attempt beneath Pointe de Corsen also ended in failure: no sign of the seal—but no fish either. So I decided to avoid the Pointe in future dives.

The next attempt, on some outcropping rocks about 500 meters north of the point, was more fruitful, yielding two specimens weighing over 1.2 kilos and sightings of others. Another try around a small islet I had identified a few kilometers further north—Île Ségal—produced one sea bass of similar size, found amidst the thick kelp near the islet’s outer tip.

Once I surfaced, I met a local diver who, after chatting for a while, suggested I change technique. He explained that local divers almost never enter the water during the late high tide phase. Much more effective, he said, was diving at low tide. Not only is the current weaker, but you can surprise large bass resting in the thick vegetation from above.

The next day, the last of the trip, I dove at Le Gouérou, just north of Plouarzel, where I had spotted a low rocky promontory surrounded by rockfalls, sloping down to an extensive kelp bed. The tide was at its lowest, and after just a few meters, I spotted the silvery outline of a beautiful sea bass on the seabed, almost motionless. Its catatonic phase lasted only a few seconds before it slowly began to move. I attempted a quick surface shot and got lucky—the fish was hit and, despite struggling, I managed to secure it. It weighed about two kilos—undoubtedly the largest bass I had caught to date.

I ended the day and the holiday with a beautiful lobster, which is legal to catch on the French Atlantic coast as long as it's done without a speargun. Lacking the special pliers used by Breton divers, I improvised—pinning it to the seafloor and quickly removing its powerful, sharp claws before stashing it under my wetsuit...

Cap Sizun

Cap Sizun, in the Finistère region of Brittany, is definitely one of my all-time favorite fishing spots. After first visiting about 10 years ago, I’ve returned twice more—always with great satisfaction.

The rugged, wild coastline is matched by numerous, convenient sea access points evenly distributed on both the northern and southern sides. This allows you to dive in almost any weather—except in truly stormy conditions. The only area that’s hard to access is the westernmost tip, the spectacular Pointe du Raz, which lacks easy land access and is swept by one of the fastest, most treacherous currents in the entire Atlantic.

One unique feature of this promontory is its unusually rich marine biodiversity for northern European Atlantic waters. Apart from sea bass—less common here than in Normandy—I’ve caught all sorts of species over the years: huge white seabream (the area’s prime catch), bream, mackerel, mullet, hake, triggerfish, and rarities like John Dory, gurnard, huge sole, octopus, crabs, and lobsters.

On the northern side, one of my favorite spots—usually my first dive—is the small beach of Penharn. Sheltered to the west by the imposing Pointe de Penharn, it offers a safe and easy water entry. Heading right, you reach a jagged coastline full of inlets and rocky pinnacles—an uninterrupted stretch only limited by your stamina.

My preferred technique along this coast is crawling, heavily weighted and shallow, into the many small coves and cracks, stalking unusually large white seabream—comparable only to the "giants" of Galicia. Best conditions: late rising tide and moderately rough seas, which increase fish activity. During low tide or calm seas, it’s better to dive deeper, exploring the edge of the kelp beds toward the sandy bottom, where you might find sea bass, hake, bream, gurnard, sole, and more.

Another “strategic” spot on the northern coast is Port de Brézellec. Inside a deep inlet protected by the Brézellec headland, it allows diving even when storms rage west of the point. You can descend easily from a concrete jetty, sometimes used by scuba divers. Depending on weather, there are two approaches:

Head left along the point to reach three large offshore rocks. Fishing in the foam around them offers a chance to catch large white seabream feeding on the cliff walls.

Alternatively, cross the small harbor to fish by ambush inside a series of small coves.

To the left of Pointe de Brézellec, you’ll find Pors Theolen, a beach with a concrete ramp for water access—but only in good conditions, as it’s less sheltered. Head right toward Brézellec to reach a rich shallow area ideal for bass, bream, and seabream.

Several excellent spots also exist on the southern side of Cap Sizun. Closest to the infamous Pointe du Raz is the tiny Port de Bestrée, with an easy concrete entry beside a strong breakwater. Heading right leads toward the Pointe—but with two major issues: strong currents during rising tide and steep underwater drop-offs, requiring wall-fishing in foamy waters—a challenging but thrilling technique. Heading left, the seabed is shallower and better for traditional ambush techniques.

Three kilometers east lies Port de Feunten Aod, with a steep concrete slipway ideal for water entry. Skirting right leads to a varied coastline with alternating shallow and steep areas.
Sometimes I’ve done a drift dive here: entering at Feunten Aod, letting the current carry me while fishing all the way to Port de Bestrée

, then hiking back along the cliff top, enjoying a breathtaking view of the ocean. On one such dive, I witnessed a spectacular tuna chase on schools of garfish.

One final spot worth mentioning is Pors Loubus, a few kilometers further east. It features a concrete slipway and a high breakwater that tames the ocean waves. In front of the small harbor lies a tall, lush kelp bed extending hundreds of meters offshore, at depths of 7 to 12 meters depending on the tide. A good spot for sea bass during very low tide. Alternatively, head left or right on a rising tide to fish near the rock-kelp border, along cliffs or inside small coves.

These are just a few of the countless access points you can find along the edge of this incredible playground for spearfishermen—Cap Sizun.