Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Same old....

I typed up something for the blog a few weeks ago and realised while I was doing it that I was bored. The same old stuff; got up early, dreary drive, launch the boat, bit of weather where to move next? If I'm not enjoying writing it then the chances are it will come across to anyone daft enough to read it.

Probably the biggest problem are my self imposed restrictions. Nowadays angling pressure can become so intense, it has to be written in a way that gives little or nothing away, likewise the photos I choose cannot show anything much either. To write it in this way doesn't do justice to the system, the fish or the fishing, so I'm not going to bother. I'll continue to keep a diary purely for my own amusement and I'll occasionally put a few paragraphs up on here, like the ones below.

A nice breeze was rippling the water as I dropped the weights and cast the baits out. The absent grebes in the last spot had set me thinking. If I had no joy here over the next hour I'd go looking for diving birds and hopefully Pike. The cloud had begun to thin and the drizzle was gone. It was turning into a nice day to be out and despite the low temperature I didn't feel at all cold. All I needed was a fish...but where? Where should I make my next move??

My thoughts were interrupted by a ticking bait-runner, a take on a Lamprey! I set the hooks quickly and found myself attached to a nice fish, no monster but big enough to get the rod bent over. She scrapped by the boat but I soon had her in the net. Should I put her on the scales and take a picture? I'd just decided I would when I heard another ticking reel, another take! This time it was the rod baited with a Bluey. With the first fish quickly returned I bent into a second and soon felt the tell tale taps on the rod tip from a small fish. I pumped it to the boat as quickly as possible and soon unhooked and returned it. I got both baits out again and settled back with a cup of tea, deciding it would be a good idea to stay put for an hour.

I swapped texts with Rich, letting him know I'd had a couple and hearing in return that he was struggling. Tea and lunch tasted all the better with a couple of Pike under my belt. Confidence had kicked in, if there were a couple of Pike here, there may well be more. Two Pike within a couple of minutes. Had fish just switched on all over? Would I have caught had I stayed in one place and not moved, or was my spur of the moment move inspired? Sometimes, even when you're catching there are more questions than answers.

Forty five minutes later I was back to planning my next move. I really should do this more often as it seems to be a good way of inducing a take. Once again a bait runner started spinning and a float started skimming the waves! I wound in quickly and this time the rod stayed bent, obviously the best fish of the day. She pulled a bit at the boat but there was no real fight until I netted her, then she went mental. When the foam had cleared off the water I realised this fish was a bit bigger than I'd first thought, nice! The camera did come out this time.

The latest issue of “Pikelines” magazine arrived through the post last week and what a superb read it was too, in fact there wasn't a single feature that I didn't enjoy reading. However there was one article, that despite being a decent read, was spoilt for me by too much naming of waters, but each too their own. The highlight for me was another classic piece by Rob Shallcroft, anecdotal yet educational, an article written from the heart by a passionate angler.

Also featured in 'Pikelines' is a detailed letter by John Watson, reviewing THAT book by Derrick Amies. Watto seems to like the book even less than I do. This follows on from articles written (in self defence)by Graham Booth and Stephen Harper in a recent edition of 'Pike & Predators' magazine, neither was complementary but both were fair in my opinion. This one just won't lie down but the ironic thing about it is, the original horrendous first edition of the book ,which retailed at £35 is now changing hands at more than ten times that to collectors! The mind boggles.

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