Just once more...

 27th March 2021

I can never just let the Pike season just fizzle out, for some reason I always with to bring it to an official close.  I say to myself, ‘this’ll be the last trip’ and to mark this I take all the opened packs of bait out of the freezer, anything left will be hurled into whichever water I’m fishing when I finish.   Any bait still sealed in the packs will be fine for next year and this spring it was always likely to be a hell of a lot but with a shortage of Blueys predicted I stocked up while I could so my part of the freezer is still full.  This year my ‘last trip’ was a planned couple of hours at the not so secret pit but this time I wanted to do it a bit different.  As well as the lure rod I velcroed a couple of deadbait rods into the bundle as I really wanted to just chill out behind rods.  Also a bit of exploring had revealed another couple of gaps in the tree line that gave me room for one rod in each and were close enough to make it viable. 

As has become normal I had a relaxed start to the day, brew and breakfast before putting together a few bits and leaving the house.  I knew there wasn’t much headroom beneath the trees so I used the boat rods, I don’t think the twelve footers have been used all season?  Even with the extra gear I was still travelling super light, the walk was a good three quarters of a mile, some of it over rough ground.  By 1030 I was chilling out with a brew, half a herring float legered in front of me and a smelt on a float paternoster a few yards to the right.  It was good to be fishing a different spot, an area that had been quite productive in the distant past but not a swim I’d fished for many years.  The pit in front of me was thick with trees and the boundary behind me consisted of a tall hedgerow, it was as if I were reclining in a shady tunnel, the outside world forgotten.  The ground around me was turning green with new nettles and other plants but there was still little sign of life above me, apart from the blue tits hopping around.

The day was mild and bright with a fresh westerly blowing from left to right but sitting low in my tunnel of trees I was well sheltered and enjoying the isolation.  I was fishing for Pike but my mind was on other species, I am ready for a change and in the short term pellets and sweetcorn should be the way to go.  No sign of the Egrets today but a group of Tufted Ducks paddled past, they probably had the spring feeling and were distracted from eating carper’s boilies elsewhere in the valley.  Overhead I could hear the call of a Buzzard though the branches prevented me from actually seeing it and from time to time a Pheasant squawked, getting closer by the sound of things.  The pheasant was joined by another bird call, shrill and persistent, very persistent…  Then it dawned on me this bird sounded very much like a micron with a dying battery and I leapt (no rolled and staggered) to my feet, picked up the net and hurried to the right hand rod.  The bird call had stopped but the float was very definitely moving so I wound down quickly and had a short tug of war in the tight swim before netting a Pike, a little bigger than others I’ve caught here this year but still considered by most a Jack.  The fish was beautifully marked and as it had to have a short visit to the unhooking mat it was no bother to take a quick snap before returning it to a home from which it will be rarely disturbed.

In the commotion my paternoster link had snapped and as I am so organised I had forgotten to bring a spare lead.  I couldn’t risk a bait drifting into snags so decided to cut to one deadbait and chuck a lure around in the other gap.  So I reached into the small rucksack to find something was missing, my lures, all of them.  I’d carried that lure rod down here for nothing.  I cut to just the one rod for half an hour but had itchy feet so tidied up and pushed back through the undergrowth until I got to the little point I’ve fished a few times lately.  Here I dropped a float legered smelt down the shelf to my left and float fished another smelt, casting to my right and bowing the line so it would drift along the treeline.  Here I had the wind on my back and it kind of worked, the float drifted but the further it travelled the more it swung away from the trees, still it was covering water.  A handy pile of cut branches gave me shelter and I reclined once more, holding a steaming mug and looking out across the pit.

Time passed, the drifting float had travelled nicely but was now swinging around too far to the left.  The water level had dropped since my first visit a few weeks ago and it was a lot clearer.  Ideal conditions to slowly bring the smelt back ‘sink and draw’ style, the bait should be easily visible to any Pike.  Thinking about it, should it really be called ‘draw and sink’ because that’s the way I fish it?  But I suppose the bait has to be allowed to sink before the initial draw, unless it’s been drifting for twenty minutes?  Whatever, it’s a nice way to fish and something I do from time to time in Norfolk, where using a float stops the bait falling back into any weed.  I’d brought it to within ten yards of the bank when I felt a sharp tap and saw a pale flash so quickly opened the bale arm, the float submerged and pulled steadily to the right so I wound down and bent into another Pike.  This one was smaller than the first and was soon splashing in the shallows where it managed to through the hooks before I could pick it out.  Oh well…  Half an hour later I’d had enough so started tidying up, the slow sink and draw didn’t work a second time and my Pike season came to an end.

Jesus what a strange Pike season?  It started with weeks of me loving the challenge to catch something enormous and finished with a couple of months of being content catching Jacks.  I find the former exhilarating whilst the latter is amusing and enjoyable.  Once again it’s where I fish that matters, at the not so secret pit I rarely see another human and it has the air of unknown.  It’s unlikely to hold a really big Pike but I can dream and there is nobody to tell me any different.

The next time I fish I should be able to travel a bit further afield, assuming I’ve understood the latest rule changes of course.  I’ve said it before but I know I could safely fish out of my ‘local area’ but I felt the need to do the right thing.  As time has passed it’s become apparent that an awful lot of anglers have just carried on regardless, ‘local’ for many has meant crossing into different counties.  Several people have admitted this to me and it seems very many carpy syndicates have carried on night fishing too.  I suppose the more private syndicates do not come under as much scrutiny as open access clubs and their members want something for the big money they splash out.  It doesn’t bother me as I know I could have bent the rules and stayed safe, I just chose not to.  In the latter weeks of the season one of anglings latest superstars was splashed in the AT holding a very big river Pike which he caught back in November and much congratulations to him.  But a very good friend of mine swears blind that this particular fish is known to him and actually resides in a water that is at least forty five minutes’ drive from where the superstar lives.  From the photo I’ve seen of this fish I’m not 100% sure my friend is right but if he is…  Well it does stick in my throat a bit.  Publicising a big Pike is a fucking stupid thing to do at the best of times and there are places and times when you just don’t do it.  Why did he do it?  Strangely enough in the same publication in February the superstar had described catching a thirty pound Pike from a non-trout water as fishing’s biggest challenge.  When he made this statement he’d already done it…

3^rd April 2021

And then it was April, not only that it was Easter weekend and with a little extra free time it would seem a waste if I didn’t spend some of it fishing.  Typically the weather which had been warm all week was unkind when I had time off but it was dry and it wasn’t too cold, the sun even shone at times.  The shed was still in winter mode and in these conditions I didn’t fancy trying my luck for anything different so it was back to the pit, lure fishing for Pike one more time.

Mid afternoon on Saturday, Isaac joined me but he wasn’t interested in fishing, he enjoys wandering around in the countryside these days and we walk many miles together each week.  As we approached the water a Muntjac broke cover, I pushed through the trees while Isaac carried on along the footpath.  We’d meet up again later.  I clipped on a sinking Real Eel and began, first cast in the bay I removed a substantial branch but on the second cast the tip went round again and rattled a bit.  A skinny jack was brought to hand and unhooked with my fingers.

There aren’t many fishable places around the pit but by now I know where all of them are so made my way to the next one.  Here I was cramped but managed to flick the lure around here and there and a cast along the bank to my left brought another fish, smaller than the first which chucked the lure in a spray at my feet.  The next gap was also tight but no fish showed so I quickly moved round to the little point where there is plenty of scope to cover a lot of water with a variety of lures.  The Real Eel produced a follow from a small fish but nothing else, nor did a shallow rigged shad or a spinnerbait.  Finally I put on a Salmo Slider and fished it quickly to keep it down, this done the trick and another, slightly bigger Pike joined me on the bank for a few seconds.

Isaac found me again, we stopped for a brew and a bag of crisps then resumed the circuit of the pit.  One of the gaps has been blocked by a fallen tree which meant there was only one tight spot left, I tried but nothing found an interest in my lure.  So I tidied my gear up and we resumed our walk in the countryside, back along the river and across the fields.  The hedgerows are now exploding in blossom, mostly white with the occasional splash of yellow but at this time of year my favourite colour is green and this is rapidly returning too. 

Sunday was mild and bright so I took the opportunity to rearrange the shed, a job that always takes longer than it should and isn’t entirely finished yet.  At least I’m now organised enough to fish for something different so that was definitely my last trip out for Pike for a long while, honest!