Fishing & stuff ...

Tribute to the greatest

2012-01-19T15:01:00.000-08:00

Muhammad Ali, the greatest sportsman of all time was 70 earlier this week. As a child growing up in the seventies, Ali was part of our lives, he was everywhere, even TV adverts for milk! I loved the man then and now, thirty years later, I love the man still. TV is quite rightly celebrating Ali's birthday by showing re-runs of some of his greatest fights. 'Rose tinted specs' do not come into it, watching these fights again only reinforces the FACTS that Ali was without a doubt the greatest heavyweight that ever entered a ring. The men he fought in a golden era; George Foreman, Sonny Liston, Floyd Paterson, Kenny Norton and the late, great Smokin' Joe Frazier would all crush any heavyweight currently fighting but Ali was better than all of them. Outside the ring Ali was equally brave, firstly when white America tried to dismantle him and later in his fight against illness. He has always stood up for his beliefs and has been an ambassador for his faith.

I have many heroes; musical, political, personal and sporting but one man stands head and shoulders above them all. Happy birthday Muhammad Ali, you really are the greatest of all time.

A walk by the water

2011-12-30T15:06:00.000-08:00

Christmas was just manic this year, it sneaked up on me then pounced and then wrestled me for a couple of days. A healthy lay in was required then after bacon sarnies I poked my nose out of the back door to find a pleasant, mild afternoon. The good lady suggested a walk by the water, she'd take her camera and I'd take a fishing rod. Could I be bothered to rummage through the shed to sort out the necessary tackle? It's been dry around these parts for weeks. We had a bit of rain a few days ago but I figured that would have dropped out by now and the river would be low and clear. Pretty crap really but I'd have a chance on a lure. That would make a change as I rarely use lures these days. Lets do it then.

I braved the shed, and managed to drag a landing net and my lighter lure rod out. Grabbing a pair of pliers was easy next to find some lures. The second marg tub I looked in contained some spinnerbaits and a couple of rubber lures, that would do. I also picked up a bait trace and found a couple of Roach in the freezer, just in case. We left home around 1400 taking a short drive to the stretch of river I taught myself to fish on as a kid. I still hold a sentimental attachment to the Pike in this place, which I've fished for, off and on since the late seventies. In all that time the largest I have managed was 18 ½ pounds and doubles are not common but it's a place you can usually move a fish in all but the grimmest conditions. Every now and then I visit these places then rant on about how much they've changed, so I'll try not to do that this time.

Through the old houses and then to the river which looked pretty much as I'd guessed it would, only with more weed. I clipped on the lightest Zoota Wagtail in full confidence. Strange as I rarely cast lures these days and rarely fish my local river. Memories of what works where stick, almost instinct. We walked upstream through narrow, streamy stretches that really should have been stripped clear of weed by a winter flood by now. Not really good Pike water but I managed a cast or two and there were photo opportunities for Shelley. Further along the river was green and choked with duckweed, this is December? Past some bridges and on to a deeper, wider stretch of water from which I've caught many Pike in the past. There was a large sign but I had something in my eye...

A couple of swims into the stretch a cast upstream produced an unexpected thump on the rod tip and some instinct made me strike. Would you believe it, I'd hooked a Pike! After a bit of thrashing around I netted a nice little fish in perfect condition which had engulfed the wagtail. Hooks out easily and a quick pose for the photographer before I slipped a nice clean little Pike back. The first I've managed to pull out of my little local river since...? We walked further upstream past loads of fishing memories along a very nice, largely familiar stretch of river. At the top end of the stretch was another angler, I decided that as I hadn't been able to read the sign downstream I'd better make a discrete departure. A shame as I fancied my chances of another Pike or two along this part of the river.

After retracing our steps in the fading light we detour to a mill pool close to the car. Still a picturesque spot despite the encroachment of houses, if they want to live on the flood plain then good luck. Loads of memories along this stretch too but little sign of any aquatic life. It had been an enjoyable afternoon so why don't I do it more often? A decade ago lures were accounting for around 75% of the Pike I caught but after a few seasons of chucking big baits tennis elbow gave me grief. After becoming a boat owner I was captivated by trolling lures and caught literally hundreds of Pike but I grew tired of this too. T the moment my favourite fishing places don't respond well to lures and there just isn't enough time for all the fishing I'd like to do. However it was nice to remind myself that there is a time and place for the lure rod. When I sat back in the driving seat the clock said 16:09, a little over two hours out in the fresh air but enough to clear the dregs of Xmas from my mind, and a Pike!

And that will almost certainly be the last Pike I catch in 2011, a year that has gone very nicely on that front, ta very much. Then there was the Tench, Carp, Barbel or anything else I tried to catch this year. None of that went the slightest bit to plan and varied from funny to farcical although highly enjoyable. This time last year we were enjoying England thrashing Australia and retaining the ashes (more about that elsewhere) and a dominant summer followed. For the first time in my memory we have the best cricket team in the world. In fact this past year has been pretty bloody good on all fronts, concerts, festivals, parties....just those bloody Tench.

Apart from faffing around with the layout again, I've added yet another blog to the links on the right, 'Norfolk n good' is “one of them pike fishing blogs” in the words of the author, who is apparently anonymous. However I know who it is but I won't embarrass Chris by naming him. That's it for 2011, happy new year.

It's winter...

2011-12-22T12:51:00.000-08:00

Out of bed at 5am. Outside it's freezing and conditions seem crap. I have two options, I can go back to bed for an hour, fish close to home and have a good chance of a half decent fish, or drive for an hour and have a slim chance of a whacker even though the conditions are all wrong. The whacker it is then. Out of the house quickly, after clearing ice from the windscreen I'm on the road. The Wailers throbbing from the speakers, the car feels funny, is something wrong with it? After a while it dawns on me it might be ice so drop the speed, lucky I did so as the wheels definitely went whilst braking for a roundabout. Further along the roads get worse, sleet has fallen over night and then frozen, this isn't good. Another dodgy moment on a bend, “why am I doing this?” Mostly because it's probably safer to continue than turn back. The roads will be much better tonight. Eventually I make the last turn with Peter singing “You can't blame the youth...”. After listening to music from the hot bosom (easy now) of tropical Jamaica I step out into a freezing cold English morning.

Next I get to work on the boat, which is nicely full of water and more ice. So full in fact the bunks on the trailer have shifted so that has to be sorted out too. After nearly an hour of bailing, grunting and swearing the boat is loaded, launched and I'm ready to go, three hours after my alarm woke me. Why am I doing this? Splashing myself with cold, icy water on a cold icy morning? Surely these are symptoms of madness? How could we ever explain this compulsion to a non angler?

I dropped the weights in the swim I wanted to be in. Deadbaits positioned nicely, I'm feeling confident and as comfortable as I could be. Options for later, stay in general area or move off to another favourite area?

All four rods were kept on move all day, twitches & recasts, cold water Pike will be close to the bottom and moving very little. Just how cold is it? Thermometer shows a water temperature of just 1.5*C! Oh shit, I didn't expect it to be that cold! With that news the confidence I'd had over night started to ebb away. I realised that I'd spent all week thinking about where to fish and had hardly noticed the temperature had been sliding. Madness! On the other hand I'm out on the water in a beautiful place with a chance, no matter how remote of.... What the??? Great, it's snowing just what I need...

After seventy minutes a bait runner ticked a couple of times. Fish? Probably not, that's the Herring I'd just twitched so almost certainly the line tightening against the swing of the boat. Hang on a minute...the float zipped along the surface and we're away! Gloves off, heart pounding, pick up the rod and wind down and 'Yes' fish on! A nice fight in the cold water then she's in the landing net. There she rested while I got the forceps camera and scales ready before collapsing the net and lowering her into the sladle. I don't usually wear an unhooking glove but in this temperature I decided it was well worth doing so. The top double hook was nicked in behind the scissors and came out with a twist. Normally I would have used both the scales and camera on this fish but in this weather it seemed easier to just lower her over the side of the boat and say goodbye. No weight, no photo...madness? A nice fish against the odds, a nice moment that justified my insanity, to me at least.

Twenty four hours later, who put the world on fast forward? Wrapped up tight against the cold braving the elements and the onslaught of humanity. Hell on earth or as some people call it, Christmas shopping. Wishing I was sitting in a damp boat, at the mercy of the elements in a wild and beautiful place. And they call me insane?

Added to the side bar are two new links, both to online magazines dedicated to Predator angling. The 'Pike Pool' is a blog made entirely from voluntary contributions from members of 'The Pikers pit' forum which is by far the liveliest place to talk about Pike fishing in the UK & Ireland. Initially created by Chris Hammond with a bit of help from Dave Lumb, now Rob Shallcroft is editor. The writers vary from experienced veterans to first timers. All have something to say and so far all have said it very well. Top work fellas!

Then there's 'Esox World' the creation of top Piker Steve Rowley. An online mag in the truest sense. Issue one featured Pike fishing in the UK, Ireland and Europe as well as Musky fishing in North America. The writing line up is quite literally, the best known names in the game. The result is first class. If the next issue is half as good it will be a 'must read'.

Two new online places to enjoy a really good piece of writing about predator fishing and both are totally free. Each done in a different way but both done well by passionate Pikers and are highly recommended, there is time and a place for both.

My little world

2011-12-04T03:52:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to write something for the blog but what? I don't want to say too much about the fishing this autumn however I've never enjoyed my fishing as much as I have the past couple of months and stuff is kind of bursting out. Firstly the new boat has made a hell of a difference. Longer, wider, more stable, shelter on the rough days, more comfort than I've ever known in a boat. Even as I leave the slipway, I'm feeling more confident already. This boat belongs here, and it's lucky!

A few years ago I decided there was only one water system that ticked all the boxes for what I enjoy about Pike fishing. The place is special, it's addictive, it gets into your soul and you crave it when you're away. Here was somewhere I could totally blank all day and still love every minute spent on the water. It's a bird watchers wet dream out there but ironically these Nazis don't know how to be patient enough to see anything. Along the way I learnt that to fish this place and do it justice, I would have to put 95% of my fishing time into it, leaving little time or energy to fish elsewhere. It was the best thing I ever done.

Out on the water this season I've caught some Pike largely by luck when a couple of last minute hunches paid off but equally a little bit of pre planning brought a few others to the boat. Things have gone well and this is mostly due to experience. Things that baffled me a few years ago, now make a little sense. Little pieces of the jigsaw begin to fall into place. Repeat captures tell us a lot, sometimes only yards from the original spot and on other occasions they're miles apart. Knowledge begins to build up, experience of where I've caught fish in similar conditions/times in years gone by. However the system changes every season too. A productive swim one year can be a dead loss the next and there seemed no logical reason why. Look a little closer and there are subtle changes, things aren't quite the same any more; man, nature and tide all take their toll. For example, one area that I like was always a bit 'hit & miss', what you might call a “50/50 swim”. However, approach the area from a another direction and position the boat in a slightly different way and I'm now seeing the whole picture in a different light. My baits are now spread out in a different way and I'm covering different water, the swim is now an “80/20”.

Talking of 'spreading the baits'. When I first fished here I'd generally cast four deadbaits from the four 'corners' of the boat. Nowadays I put a lot more thought into it. These Pike are feeding by smell, there are better ways to do it than just randomly chucking four baits out. Then there's the bait choice, how important is it? I'm sure the Pike will eat whatever they find, I'm equally sure that they find some types of bait quicker than others. There's loads to think about out there; if plan A isn't working then what are plans B & C? Stick or twist? To experience add persistence, the next time I drop the mudweights could be.... To some people it's a boat trip with fishing rods. To me it's tough, challenging, fascinating fishing and I love it.

Dave Lumb's rods come with an excellent reputation and this is certainly deserved. I bought one a couple of years ago but I'm afraid the lucky “pixie dust” that Dave applies didn't kick in to begin with. I took ages to christen the rod with a Jack then all the little landmarks along the way, (first double, first 15+, etc.) all took time. The 'pixie dust' must have been some kind of slow burn variety as I'm happy to say that this year my 'P3' has been my lucky rod. Using this rod I've boated some big Pike in often tricky situations and it's done everything I've asked of it with ease. After a thorough testing I can say Dave's P3 deserves the reputation and if in the future, I ever need another Pike rod I'll be choosing one from here. http://www.dlst.co.uk/baitrods.html

Dodgy self timer shot, caught on a P3

Meanwhile...another world away a certain trout reservoir continues to produce one huge Pike after another. Personally I've never ever applied for a ticket and I doubt I'll ever cast a line in the place as it just doesn't float my boat. It is what it is, you pay your money and take your chance but it's not for me. I'm lost in my own little fishing heaven and what happens outside of this might as well be on another continent. To all the Pikers out there that fish the place, best of British luck to you, I hope you catch the fish of your dreams and I'll continue to fish for the one I dream of. Or as a friend said recently “As long as **** is fishing well the places I want to fish will be quieter”

Good stuff

2011-10-28T13:46:00.000-07:00

Their can hardly be an angler anywhere that doesn't know the name 'Mick Brown, thanks largely to his TV career. However us Pike anglers have known of Mick for a lot longer, I think I first became aware of the name in 1986? with his contribution to “Pike, the predator becomes the prey”. One of the finest Pike books ever written in my opinion. Mick's first book “Practice and the Passion” was a bloody good read and more recently the books he's produced with Fox, although heavy on advertising, contain first class information. We Pikers all know Mick as 'one of us', a pukka Piker and an incredibly successful one at that!

This years PAC convention saw Mick unveil his latest book “Professional Pike angler”. This book was very well received, in fact so much so Mick had sold out by the time I got round to seeing him. Thankfully I received a copy by mail order shortly afterwards so didn't miss out. So far I hadn't heard one single negative comment about the book, many were raving about it so I couldn't wait to dip in.

To put it bluntly I think this is one of the very best books I've read on the subject. I've read it once quickly and it demands to be read again, slowly and thoroughly, some time soon. Mick has put across his thoughts on Pike behaviour, learned from years of experience in all types of water and done so in a way that is easy to read. Unlike some others he is able back up his theories with evidence, observations, facts and photographs. Each chapter the ideas are illustrated through anecdotes; stories of successful days, observations and the thought processes of a successful Piker. I found it fascinating.

There is very little 'technical stuff', for example rigs, descriptions and diagrams are notably absent but as the author says, there are plenty of publications that include these and I was happy to live without them. I was really interested in Mick's thoughts about deadbaits and 'scent trails' as this is something I work on in my own fishing. Livebaiting, prebaiting, trolling, lure fishing, bank fishing and boat fishing, it's all covered in the same depth and in the same way. MB tells us how he thinks the Pike is behaving, why it's behaving that way and his reasons for the theory. With his record, the reader has to take notice. The “Sea Pike” chapter is inspiring, adventurous stuff that really made me want to travel... However, right now fly fishing for Pike isn't something that gets me excited despite Mick's enthusiasm. I wasn't as interested in the media/work side of Mick's fishing career but that's something I don't aspire to anyway.

The book is nicely laid out and is full of photos of Pike of all sizes, one major advantage of Mick's media career is the vast library of pictures he has to choose from. Some of these photos are awe inspiring, others simply stunning and there is literally colour on just about every page. Mick Brown “Professional Pike angler” is a damn good read and is highly recommended. It retails at £28 plus P&P and is available from http://www.mickbrownangling.com/Shop2011.html

While I'm recommending things, an item of kit that no boat angler should be without is the “Sladle” from Eddie Turner Specialist tackle. How do I describe the sladle? It's designed by an experienced boat angler, Simon Lambard. Well it has two adjustable rigid poles that stretch across the boat. Suspended from these is a 'pike friendly' cradle. When I have a Pike in the net I fold it down and place mesh, arms and Pike into the sladle. Now the fish is totally enclosed, suspended above the deck and cannot come to any harm. The fish can then be comfortably unhooked without any chance of it thrashing about on the deck. The sladle can be used as a weigh sling too but I found it a bit cumbersome. This year ETST brought out a separate weigh sling that fits nicely inside the sladle, I drop the landing net straight into this and usually slide the fish out of the net and into the sling. Once the unhooking is done simply zip up the sides and lift the sling containing the Pike out of the sladle for weighing. Finally both sladle and sling are suitable for retaining a Pike for a short while, over the side of the boat, should the need arise.

http://ww w.eddieturner.co.uk/pike-tackle/Weigh-Bags-and-Pike-Protection/The-Sladle-1.html

Imaginative title "Pike in Sladle"

The Sladle is a unique piece of kit in the field of Pike angling or indeed boat angling. It's designed to keep the Pike safe from harm throughout the time it spends out of the water and it does just that. I spend most of my time fishing in a boat, alone and I wouldn't be without a sladle. In fact I'd urge every boat angler to have one, it's in the fish's best interests after all. Available from Eddie Turner specialist tackle. http://ww w.eddieturner.co.uk/pike-tackle/Weigh-Bags-and-Pike-Protection/The-Sladle-1.html
You guessed it..."Pike in weigh sling, in sladle"

Was that summer?

2011-09-12T13:44:00.000-07:00

Where does the time go? It dawned on me that almost a month had past since I last wet a line. In that time the summer party season has still been in full swing, I've been emotionally involved in watching England become officially the best cricket team in the world and I've been rigging up a new boat, with help from Rich. Apart from that I've been in a kind of limbo. My mind is on Pike fishing but it's still too early. I still have my Carp/Tench kit ready in the shed but I don't have any enthusiasm for this type of fishing. However this past weekend I felt the pull of the water side and just had to spend a few hours down by the lake, any lake but what should I fish for? In the end I decided to hedge my bets.

I arrived at 'the marsh' at around 1530 on a blustery autumn afternoon, there was only one other angler present, bivvied up on the far side. The sky was mainly bright but the fresh westerly wind was pushing clouds across and the forecast threatened rain. I picked a swim in the teeth of the wind and began by setting up a boilie rod. I fished a 'Chod' rig and pop up cast a short way to a point in the reeds and baited the area with around 500gm of 10mm boilies. My second rod was a float set up with a waggler fishing sweetcorn on the lake bed in front of some dying lilies. This area was baited with 'Green Carp mix' made by Lake Wizard, to the mix I added half a tin of corn. It was inevitable that I would catch Rudd and Roach so I had decided to embrace this and try to catch the blighters. Maybe a Tench would move into the area, who knows?

As I was setting up a Heron flapped noisily into the Lily pads opposite me, hopefully we'd both have a little luck with the fish this afternoon? The float began dipping and moving straight away, as expected. I kept striking and missing but eventually hooked a couple of small Rudd. These fish were obviously intercepting the corn as it sunk. A little adjustment of the shot and I was able to avoid these critters. While I was doing this I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye, something on the surface, 'what the hell is that?' I wondered. It was a snake, a Grass snake I assume and a very rare but welcome sight. The animal swam across the front of my swim, paused amongst the lilies for a rest before going off again and disappearing amongst the bankside vegetation.

Look carefully, that's a snake

The shotting change worked, bites became irregular but when I connected the fish were a better size, Rudd and roach of 4 to 8 ounces. Why can I never get enough of these when the Pike season starts?? The weather was pleasant and I sat comfortably in my chair with cricket on the radio, TMS my regular companion painting the picture of a tight game. Away to the south dark clouds were dropping rain on someone but I admired the resultant rainbow. The boilie rod was absolutely silent but the float dipped regularly enough to keep me on my toes. I was going to say 'keep me interested' but to be honest, I was in danger of being bored. This kind of fishing doesn't hold my attention unless there's the chance of something substantial taking my bait. Yes there was that chance but I just didn't feel it was going to happen.

With all those Rudd and Roach kicking around in the net and a spare rod laying in the holdall it was only a matter of time...I couldn't resist! Float, traces, lead and link. A paternoster rig was born, baited with one of the smaller Rudd and gently swung out into the deeper water beyond the pads. The bait was lively and kept the float bobbing and dipping which renewed my interest but as the time ticked round it appeared this wasn't going to work either. It just wasn't going to be my day. Then it's been that kind of summer, the effort I've put in has been sporadic as have been the results. I haven't enjoyed the fishing at the Marsh as much this year, early season it was just too crowded. I haven't really fished the place as effectively as I could/should have either. Shall I give the place another go next season? Probably, one last season. Elsewhere I caught plenty of Carp from 'The Puddle' but I only went here as light relief when the Marsh had proved hard going, which was often to be honest!

The sun was dipping and a full moon had risen away to the east. I packed up the float rod before it became too dark and then reluctantly tidied up first the boilie rod then the livebait. I always hate packing up, even when the fishing hasn't been riveting. This time I was packing up not just for the day but for the summer season. Soon it will be Pike time and for a variety of reasons I've decided that very little of it will be blogged, not this year at least. To pretentiously quote the Prodigy from “Music for the Jilted Generation”

“I've decided to take my work back underground, to stop it falling into the wrong hands...”

Summer Holiday

2011-08-17T14:26:00.000-07:00

Early August, the family and I head off on holiday, Wessex bound. The draw is beautiful scenery, wildlife, walking, interesting cities, for the others shopping and for me the chance to have another go at catching Barbel in their natural wild river environment. As I've said before, stillwater Barbel don't count!

Anyway, a day of driving was followed by a walk in the wild woods where we saw many species of birds including, most impressively Buzzards soaring high over head. These were soon upstaged by the Deer we saw scampering through the trees after being alerted by Isaac. Home for the week was a small converted barn which at some point in it's history had been used for making cider. Shelley was disappointed that there was none left behind but not disappointed by the quality of the local brews! After a couple of days I couldn't resist the lure of the river that lay at the bottom of the hill. An exploratory wander revealed the water was low and clear but I managed to find a spot that I felt gave me a chance of a fish, despite my almost total lack of Barbel fishing experience.

So bright and early on the Monday morning I made my way down to the river and commenced fishing in an area that was slightly deeper than the shallows that surrounded it but still retained a decent pace to it. The river was still gin clear and carrying an annoying amount of drifting weed but not enough to make fishing impossible. After a while I worked out how to keep two rods in the water and fish effectively. My downstream rod consisted of a leger with a long hooklength baited with two 10mm fishmeal boilies and a PVA bag of Halibut pellets. This was cast just to the edge of the faster flowing water. The other rod was also baited with a couple of boilies but on this I fished a feeder filled with Hemp which rolled round with the current, methods I'd learnt last year.

The early morning period saw hazy mist rolling down the river but this soon burnt off leaving a mostly bright day punctuated but a couple of short sharp showers. I recast the Hemp rod regularly but let the pellet rod fish for itself mostly. It was a pleasant morning on the river with only the bird life for company but it lacked the most important thing, fish! After a few hours of catching nothing it was hard to remain confident without any experience to draw on. I looked at my watch at around 0930, the kids would be well and truly on the move, time to head back to the barn. It was only when I reached the car that I noticed the “Private fishing” sign nailed to a tree at the top of the bank....

The following afternoon all four of us; Madi, Isaac, Shelley & I had a rendezvous with Rob at a stretch that was ideal for our purposes. Plenty of green space for the children to run around in, a pub nearby for sustenance and the chance of a Barbel in the river. We fished with rolling feeders baited with hemp and maggots and caught fish virtually from the off; Bleak, Dace, Chub...but the Barbel avoided us. Bites came in fits and starts, we kept the bait going in, hoping.... Rob caught the better sized Chub and a Lovely Perch...The weather was very nice, the local best bitter excellent and the company was first class. We chatted all the usual fishy stuff along with football and cricket then put the world to rights but still no Barbel appeared.

As the light faded we adjourned to another local pub for a well earned pint and introductions to another angling brother. Although I could have stayed and drank beer all evening, all too soon the children were yawning and it was time to head off. I'll be having a beer with Rob at the convention next month and the next time we fish together will probably be out here in the east after the Pike?

A couple of days passed and I still had a load of hemp fermenting in a bucket so made another early morning visit to the river. This time I fished a little further along from the stretch I'd tried on my first attempt. OK, this time I knew I shouldn't be there and this would require a little more subtlety should someone challenge me but hey, what harm was I doing?

The upstream end of my swim was shallow with water rushing through into the deeper run in front of me with swirling eddies on either bank. It looked the business, surely home to a Barbel or two? Time would tell. I fished the same methods as the first trip, PVA & pellets on the downstream 'sleeper' rod and hemp in a feeder rolling down with the current on the second. However I'd purchased a tin of sweetcorn to give me a better chance of catching any Chub that might be around. The morning was dull and gloomy, constantly threatening rain but not quite delivering. It was wonderfully quiet in the tree lined banks, only the pipping of Kingfishers zipping along the river and the mewing of ever impressive Buzzards high over head broke the silence.

Time passed. I kept feeding the hemp and rolling the feeder but the only thing I caught was rocks. These wild rivers are heavy on the tackle but I'd come prepared. I may have had the occasional slight tap on the rod tips but being unused to this style of fishing I hardly noticed. I did know that should I be lucky and a Barbel find my bait there'd be no mistaking the bite. I kept hoping...

By 1000 I'd almost run out of bait but resolved to keep on going until it was all gone. I glanced down into the clear water and noticed a cheeky Chub mopping up a few bits of corn I'd dropped before sliding off into the river again. A few minutes later it repeated the procedure and this was just too much to take. OK, it wasn't a Barbel but it was a fish of a size that made it worth catching so I dropped my bait into position and waited. A few minutes passed and the Chub appeared again, made its way to my bait, watch the quiver tip and....nothing happened...but my bait had gone??? Maybe it wasn't meant to be my day. One more go, three grains of corn on the hair, dropped into position and wait. Five minutes later and here came the Chub again, this time I didn't rely on the quiver tip. I watched the fish approach my bait, the bait disappeared, I struck and the fish was on! After a short fight on a stiff rod the fish was brought to the net. By no means a monster but big enough to put a smile on my face.

I loaded the feeder with the last of the hemp and stuffed the hook/hair with a load of corn. Would one last cast bring me the Barbel I craved? The answer was no but if anything the drive to catch another is even stronger than it was a year ago. That evening was the last of our holiday so the family and I took a stroll along another stretch of this beautiful river, saying goodbye. It occurred to me only then the things I could have done a little differently to give myself another chance...I'll be back next year.

A few days later we were back home. Shelley and I took a long walk along a stretch of my local river. I wondered how Barbel would fair in this river but I fear the answer would be badly. Two years ago I wrote about the demise of this little river through abstraction and neglect http://fishingsgreat.blogspot.com/2009/09/nostalgia.html now things are even worse . No flow, painfully shallow and choked to strangulation point by weed. I really fear for the future of this waterway, it's bloody criminal.

Party season

2011-08-03T14:39:00.001-07:00

Towards the end of a hot summer day, Shelley & I arrived at the 'pretty puddle' for an evening chilling out by the lake. This is actually the first time I've been fishing in almost six weeks. Firstly lack of success saw my Tench fishing at 'the Marsh' just run out of steam. In hindsight I made loads of mistakes, I fished it all wrong but I'll have another crack next spring and won't make the same mistakes again. Secondly summer time is party time, there is only so much leisure time available so something has to give. I've spent many happy days and nights in the company of some of my favourite people; Parties, BBQ's, music festivals, cricket matches, eating and drinking too much. It's been a busy time, spice of life.

Anyway tonight I just wanted to chill out in a shady waterside place and put a bend in the rod. We settled in a large comfortable swim in one of the bays and I began feeding chum mixers which were soon being slurped down by greedy Carp. After almost an entire summer of being hammered these fish are a lot more wary than they were earlier in the year. Getting a take requires a lot more patience but to be honest it's nowhere near as frustrating as the floater fishing I used to do in years gone by. Here you know the fish will make a mistake sooner or later.

Shelley began fishing with a floating bait on a powerful whip. I'm not a lover of pole fishing for Carp as I've seen the damage done to Carp's mouths by bullying them into the net on these things. Shelley would not be hurrying to drag the fish in, the elastic would be allowed to do it's job. I had a rod set up to freeline a floater but to begin with I was just content to feed the swim, watch and wait. However, when a Carp began taking baits from literally beneath my feet, I couldn't resist dropping a bait on it. This was taken almost immediately and I found myself attached to a fish that pulled my arms off in an attempt to escape...but didn't. The fish was a nicely coloured Mirror but had half it's tail missing, a battered dorsal fin and a mouth that was ripped to pieces. My views on irresponsible match fishing for Carp are hardening....

After that the fishing became harder. Small groups of Carp would move into the swim, slurp a few floaters down and then move out again. At this stage of the season they have developed the nack of ignoring the bait with the hook in. Still the evening was warm and pleasant and we were chilling out in a nice place. Shame the two idiots fishing in the next bay weren't a little quieter and a lot less dramatic. However it became easier to tune them out as time went by.

The next action came to Shelley, a nice little common hooked on a floater. The whip was handled nicely, the elastic allowed to do it's job and after a few patient minutes the Carp was coaxed into the net. At around seven pounds possibly a personal best for Shelley? I decided to sneak out an extra rod, fishing a pop up boilie and a PVA bag of pellets. This eventually produced the next fish of the night, a small common. I'm sure I'm not imagining it, baits fished on the bottom seem to catch the smaller fish at this place.

As the light slowly faded the Carp became more confident feeding on the surface. A bait swung under the over hanging trees would be taken with confidence almost every time and I landed more than I lost. By the time it was too dark to see the bait my total was up to four or was it five? All were commons of 3 to 6 pounds. Sadly more than half of the fish landed tonight showed signs of damage caused by bad angling practice.

By nine o'clock it was too dark to see our baits so we packed in for the night. It was nice to be fishing again after a long lay off. This type of easy fishing gives instant gratification but would never hold my attention for long. Next week I'll hopefully be trying my hand at something more challenging in wild waters. After that it'll be time to start preparing for the real thing.

Misguided ??

2011-06-27T12:57:00.000-07:00

I needed a reminder of what catching a fish actually feels like so when the opportunity to have a couple of hours at the easy place (AKA Pretty puddle)materialised it was too good to resist. I arrived in the late afternoon on a bright and breezy day but was disappointed to find the place was ram jam packed. It crossed my mind to go home right then. There had evidently been a match but thankfully it appeared to have just finished as people were packing up. I had a walk around and was relieved to find a few areas without brightly coloured boxes and bits of carbon fibre laying around. Thankfully there were areas of the lake that hadn't been hammered today, one was a bay I'd not yet fished with a nice looking overhanging tree to provide cover. This would do me so now it was just a case of waiting for the matchmen to bugger off.

All too slowly the matchmen weighed in and departed. It's amazing to me that they ever catch anything with the amount of noise they make. I suppose to them it's all friendly banter but the language involved made me glad my children hadn't come fishing with me. Oh yes I can curse with the best of them but I try not to when my kids are around. I watched a couple of anglers weigh in. I know there are people who get too precious when it comes to “fish welfare” but I'm sure a blind throw over the shoulder isn't the best way to return a skimmer Bream. This same group insists on the barbless hook rule on grounds of 'fish welfare' but I and many others are convinced that a barbless hook actually does more damage. This is especially so if an ultra stiff carbon pole is used to pull a thrashing fish over a landing net in double quick time. I'm not anti matches or a match anglers, I'm sure most are sensible people who are good at what they do but this lot...It struck me that these people were a poor advert for the sport of angling, luckily this water is on private land with no access to the general public.

By 1700 I was fishing with two rods and happily had the lake to myself. I cast a method feeder across to the overhanging trees opposite me, this was baited with a 15mm pop up boilie on a short, stiff hooklength. My second rod was a float rod, fished slightly over depth and baited with fake corn & maize. This was cast to a snaggy area to my right. To begin with all was very quiet, had the noise and hammering put the fish off? After a while a few Carp began to show on the surface. I usually prefer to catch these fish on bottom rigs, I suppose it gives me confidence that the methods work when I fish 'The Marsh'. However today I just wanted to catch by any means possible so broke down the float rig and instead tied a size 12 hook straight onto the mainline. I began feeding a few chum mixers and soon had a few fish moving on the surface. On my first cast with a freelined floater, after about ten seconds, a Carp slurped it down. Within a couple of minutes a small common was bullied into the net.

After a slow start I began to get a few fish interested. Firstly on the floaters, a pretty little mirror followed by a nice, torpedo shaped common that was easily into double figures but I couldn't be bothered to weigh it. After that I got more action on the method feeder with a succession of little commons that were like peas in a pod. There were still fish interested in the floaters but they were a little finicky and moved in and out of the swim. At one point I was playing a fish hooked on the floater when the method feeder screamed off. I bundled the first fish into the net but by this time the other was long gone. For years I've always played fish by back winding but here I was experimenting with playing fish off the clutch. It felt weird to begin with but with a decent reel, unlike the Mitchell 300's I grew up with, in theory the clutch should be better??

Time was passing quickly and I really ought to have been going but I told myself 'just one more fish'. That last fish is always a lot more tricky than all the others and so it proved. Eventually a floater was sucked down and I set the hook into a Carp that tore across the bay taking line off the clutch. The rod was hooped over and I was in no doubt that this was the biggest fish I'd hooked all evening by a distance. There are a few Carp in this water that are big by any ones standards and this felt like one of them. I hung on for a minute or so as the clutch made noises but just as I felt I was gaining control the hook pulled out. Bugger!! Actually the words I really used would have made the matchmen blush. Should have tried to back wind??

That was it for the night. I quickly bundled the gear into the back of the car and hit the road. I'd enjoyed myself, it was nice to have a few fish that pulled back, nice to have a bend in the rod and nice to be driving home feeling that I'd achieved what I'd set out to. Well almost...

Indecision

2011-06-20T12:05:00.000-07:00

It's been over a month since I've been able to spend any more than a few hours at the Marsh buthere at last was a free weekend. The day before I'd taken a bit of a detour and had a quick look around. There were a few anglers about as usual but the swim I'd fished last time out was empty. If this remained the case the following day I'd be happy to fish there.

At home on the Saturday morning, I took my time boiling up some seed mix and slowly getting things ready. Friday had been wet, wet, wet (with no connection to that truly awful pop band) but Saturday was mainly bright and dry albeit with the occasional shower. There was a stiff south westerly breeze too, keeping the temperature a little lower than it should be at this time of year.

I arrived in the early afternoon expecting to find the car park full as usual but there was only one other angler on the lake and he was fishing an area I didn't fancy. All my previously made plans went out of the window as I was spoilt for choice. I took a slow stroll around but couldn't make up my mind. I noticed the other angler using a bait boat to place his tackle on a spot which is otherwise impossible to fish. I suppose this is legitimate use of the dreaded bait boat but even so I can't help thinking it's kind of cheating.

Eventually I settled on a swim, one I'd christened “The Cauldron” last season due to the massive eruptions of bubbles that always occurred whenever I fished it last season. This swim covers a large bay and is full of features; overhanging trees opposite and lined with lilies. I took my time setting up, putting the rods out first then getting the bivvy organised. The weather had been a mixture of sunshine and showers, with more wet weather forecast I needed to keep my kit dry. Wind was a fresh South westerly which blew down the lake turning the water over nicely.

By 1430 I was fishing with three rods. I cast a method feeder baited with a 15mm pop up to the overhanging trees opposite then an inline rig baited with another pop up and a PVA bag of mixed pellets was dropped into a spot where the trees meet the lily pads. On my third rod I float fished fake corn and maize in front of the marginal lily pads, ground-baiting with seed mix and a bit of loose maize.

The afternoon was bright and pleasant but a bit humid with all the moisture around in the air. Once again the lake looked a picture in it's green summer suit. The only problem with my feature packed swim was which ones do I cast baits to? There are just so many places to drop a bait but eventually I devised a plan for intercepting fish moving in and out of the bay. The overhanging trees opposite would be a natural bottleneck for fish entering the bay so I'd keep a bait here and bait it up with a load of 10mm boilies. This would be a difficult cast after dark (NO to a bait boat) so if, heaven forbid I had a take I'd drop it onto the margin spot which I'd been baiting with seed mix. The other rod I'd fish to the pads at the bottom of the bay, a comfortable cast at any time. How I approached things the following morning would depend on how the night went.

The afternoon passed without a fish of any sort showing any interest. I'd hoped to while away the time by listening to the cricket on TMS but rain was affecting play down south. In the early evening rain swept over the lake too but luckily I was well prepared for it, my cheap & cheerful bivvy is surprisingly waterproof. While the rain came down I took the opportunity to enjoy a brew and a fry up in the comfort.

Once the showers had blown over I was treated to sunshine again and I enjoyed the scene before me. Warblers of some description (probably reed warblers???) darted amongst the Norfolk reeds, a Kingfisher zipped across the bay landing on a dead branch for a perch. A family of ducks took residence in my swim but made baiting up difficult. Around 2030 I got everything sorted for the night as planned. The inline rig landed bang on position by the overhang, who needs a bait boat? I continued to use the float rod to fish the margins and kept a constant trickle of feed going in. Every so often the bubbles that give 'the cauldron' it's name would erupt. Last year these would drive me mad as I was sure a Tench or Carp would pick my bait up at any second. Now I've sussed that most of the time it's shoals of silver fish moving onto the feed in the silty bottom. As if to prove my point I had a twitchy take on the method feeder around 2100 which resulted in a Rudd of about 4ozs hooked fairly in the mouth...on a 15mm pop up!!! This is no longer funny!

This is no longer funny!

I continued fishing the float rod until it became too dark and being mid June it was passed ten o'clock by this time. As the light faded two mice scurried around my feet, tidying up spilt bait. Everything was sorted for the night so I decided to get into the kip back and get my head down. The night was cloudy and mild but thankfully dry. The fresh wind didn't seem to drop at any point. For some reason sleep didn't come easily. I kept drifting in and out and kept getting short pulls on the method feeder rod but no definite takes. The dawn chorus commenced in the reeds around me at about 0230 which didn't help either.

Eventually I dozed off for a couple of hours, waking again in growing light at 0430. This was a good time for fresh bait so I recast the method feeder across to the overhanging tree and dropped the inline rig close to the pads in front of me. I changed the bait on this rod to Maize, balanced with fake corn and topped the groundbait up before climbing back into the kip back. Surely I'd be woken up by a screaming take and a nice fat Tench?

View from the front door

My anticipated alarm call didn't occur. At 0745 I was awake once more, realisation dawning that once again, my best chance of a Tench had been and gone. I woke myself up with a brew and a fried breakfast. While the sausages were sizzling I recast both rods, the method feeder landed perfectly by the tree again. I tried to tell myself I was still in with a shout, for an hour or two anyway.

By 1030 I was loading the car, another blank recorded. Bloody lake, there;s no bloody fish left, the bloody Otters have eaten them all!!! Of course this isn't true. There a few very big Tench and some decent Carp in there, it's just me, I can't catch them!! Back to the drawing board!!!

Excuses?

2011-06-15T15:19:00.000-07:00

I hadn't had the time or opportunity to go fishing for far too long! I didn't really have the time this weekend either but I needed my fix. For days I've been feeling unwell, 'sinusitis' isn't very nice, headaches and congestion, keeps me up at night. Somehow I managed to drag myself out of bed and down to the Marsh for an early morning after the Tench.

I arrived with mist still rising from a lake bathed in weak morning sunlight. A Green Woodpecker laughed as it flew across the water, was it trying to tell me something? For once there was just one other angler at the lake, this would have been normal twelve months ago but alas no more. I settled in a swim on the Northern bank with the southerly wind in my face. To my left is a large reed bed, I cast a method feeder baited with a pop up boilie in front of this and on a second rod another pop up with a PVA bag of pellets close by, at the bottom of the marginal shelf. The plan was to leave the pop up in place but recast the method feeder every now and then, depending on how things went. On a third rod I float fished sweetcorn beside a bed of lily pads close by. This area was baited with a few free offerings of corn plus a couple of handfuls of mixed pellets every now and then.

It was a beautiful morning, sunny with a comfortable temperature and a nice breeze in my face. The Marsh is now in the full green of summer, trees, reeds and lilies, dotted with yellow flowers just opening. I'd deliberately avoided putting out large quantities of groundbait, just little piles of feed that could be topped up as and when, if feeding fish should happen to wander through the swim. Unfortunately I didn't get through too much bait today, just a couple of half hearted pulls and the occasional momentary dip of the float. I'm still struggling to get my head around the Tench's habits in this water, more so this season than last. Twelve months ago, even if I wasn't catching I'd often see tell tail signs, fish rolling or bubbling, not so this year.

I keep hearing the same thing from other anglers on the lake; “Tench fishing is slow this year...” and apparently this season it's worse than ever. I also keep hearing anglers complaining about the number of Otters around these days, maybe the two topics are linked? I saw an Otter at the Marsh a year ago but I've never seen any evidence of wide scale fish kills. I haven't known the water long enough to make comparisons to years gone by however. Last week there was a report on local TV news about habitat improvements designed to make life easier for otters in the Fenlands. Hot on the heels of this followed calls by anglers, (TV 'star' John Wilson included), for action on the 'Otter problem'.

A decade ago it was the Cormorant that was getting the blame for all the ills in angling, in many cases this was for good reason too. Nowadays anglers like to point the finger at immigrant anglers fishing for food and most recently the Otter. We do like to have a ready made excuse for poor fishing but in all cases there is an element of truth. What we need is real evidence as to just how bad the perceived problem is in reality but this type of information will always be difficult to collate.

On balance I think there could well be an 'Otter problem' but calls for a cull are misguided. We'll never win over the opinions of the non angling majority if we start shooting at anything with fur and a face (except perhaps Bill Oddie). Maybe for a few years angling will have to take the hit and face the pain of 'Otter damage' but surely nature will find a balance eventually and Otter numbers will even out? Some fisheries will be forced to erect fences to keep the otters out, this may be expensive but must be seen as an investment. As things stand now, for my liking there are too many Otters about on the waters I fish, I'd like to see their numbers reduced but there's nothing I can do about it. Is the reason I can't catch those bloody Tench? Who knows? It's a bloody good excuse though!

Time passed too quickly, the other angler fishing was already packing up and I hadn't seen him catch anything. I kept looking at my watch, hoping time would slow down but it had the opposite effect. All of a sudden the alarm was sounding and a bobbin was jumping, something was making off with the boilie on the method feeder. I wound down to no resistance but there was something on the end...surely not? Yes, another bloody Roach! Another anti climax, I couldn't help but laugh!

The river season starts in an hour or two but right at this moment I have no plans to fish moving water. I have a bit more free time coming up so will stubbornly continue to pursue those elusive Tench for a week or two.

Gaining ground

2011-05-25T13:39:00.000-07:00

Two more weeks of mostly bright and dry weather has made the East Anglian countryside look parched and arid. The only green left is around the watersides and after two weeks away I made my way back to the Marsh for a couple of hours of much needed relaxation. Today was different weather wise in as much as the wind was a strong South Westerly but otherwise the bright dry conditions continue. Water temperature remains steady at 17 degrees, exactly the same as my last visit a fortnight ago.

After a look around and the discovery of too many cars in the car park I found myself fishing the swamp again. The signs were that it hadn't been fished much since my last visit, no broken down vegetation or any other tell tale give aways. This is becoming a factor as unfortunately angling pressure has become much more intense this season. Where as last year it was rare to find more than a couple of other anglers on the lake, this season it can be hard at times to find a swim. For a while I couldn't for the life of me think of a reason why this might be but then I remembered last autumn there were rumours of a very big Carp being caught. I laughed this off at the time but maybe the tale is true or perhaps there are simply lots of people who think it is.

By 1800 I was settled and fishing. As usual I fished the over hanging trees on each side of the swim. On the left hand rod I had a pop up on an inline rig with a bag of mixed pellets and about twenty 10mm boilies. Bearing in mind how many people are now fishing the water, assuming there's a fair bit of bait going in, I decided it might be a good idea to ease off on the ground baiting a little. On the right I decided to use a method feeder with another pop up on a 3” stiff hooklength. So I had two nice groups of food out which I could top up as and when they needed it, if at all.

The wind made things feel cool but otherwise it was a pleasant evening and I was happy to be fishing again. After about ninety minutes something strange happened, I had a twitchy take on the right hand rod on which I was using the method feeder. I struck out of surprise and desperation as much as anything and was sure I hadn't made contact but was surprised to find a Roach attached! Not even a particularly big Roach either, it would have been a nice livebait come the winter. Twenty minutes later I had a repeat performance and another roach splashed it's way in. This was almost amusing! I had a third take a little later but failed to connect this time.

I noticed the odd fish rolling by the pads and a few bubbles breaking surface every now and then. I couldn't ignore this so quickly set up the float rod fishing corn. I didn't get any takes on this set up but at least the float/leger rig I'd put together got the bait down before the Rudd could polish it off. I was also strangely happy to have caught the Roach on the method feeder. I figured if I was managing to hook relatively small roach on 15mm boilies then this rig would hook a larger fish with a bigger mouth.

The light began to fade and I reluctantly began to pack up. All evening I'd felt I was in with a good chance of a decent fish. Who knows, if I had time to fish all night maybe I would have? I'll never know. Here's to next time.

The most recent 'Pikelines' dropped onto my doormat recently as as usual it was an excellent read. The continuing debate regarding “that book” by Derrick Amies rumbles on and in this issue it is DA responding to John Watson's review that appeared in the February issue. I would have been interested to read Amies' response to the accusations posed by Watto (not to mention those of Stephen Harper and Graham Booth), however instead of defending himself, DA's letter is nothing more than an attack on John Watson. Watto's own book is possibly the best book on Pike fishing ever written and although JW's “who dares wins” attitude may attract criticism by some, he certainly has never been considered dishonest. Derrick Amies has decided that attack is the best form of defence but in this case he is sadly mistaken. I'm still working my way through the magazine but it looks great, as usual worth the PAC membership for the mag alone. To join PAC see the link at the side of the page.

Some good news has come from the Broads Authority at last. The proposed dredging of Heigham Sound will not now take place as the BA has nowhere to dump the silt. Although this may well just be a stay of execution it's still good news. It gives concerned parties more time to lobby people and strengthen the case and it's also hard to see a new dumping site popping up any time soon. I have a feeling that the hard work of John Currie & co. at Norwich PAC has influenced the thinking of certain people too.

Full details here;

http://www.broads-authority.gov.uk/news/press-releases/2011/heigham-sound-broads-dredging-plans-on-hold.html

I'm also happy to say that my MP, Mr David Ruffley has written to me a couple of times. He has questioned the CEO of the BA John Packman and received a reply which he copied to me. Unfortunately Packman's response trotted out the same old propaganda we've grown accustomed to but I'm glad that the questions are being asked and the BA is feeling the pressure. The war is not over but a battle has been won!

This & that...

2011-05-09T13:43:00.000-07:00

I needed to get out fishing for a few hours tonight. After another long bank holiday weekend with the children, packed full of fun family things and happy times, followed by too much wine after dark I was suffering with the post booze blues. The only cure for these blues is more booze and a self destructive cycle begins. Been there, done that, learnt my lesson. The kids went to their mothers giving me some time. I couldn't be arsed to get the fishing gear together but I made myself. I arrived at “the Pretty puddle”, pleasantly surprised to find only two other cars parked up. I wandered around aimlessly trying to find a spot where fish were showing but where I could also have some seclusion. I couldn't be arsed, it crossed my mind to clear off home again but I stayed. Eventually I settled into the same swim I'd fished a week previously.

Tactics were the same, feeder on the bush to the left and another rod fishing the overhanging tree opposite, this time I'd remembered how to cast and managed to avoid trees, bushes and all forms of vegetation. Though still sunny the wind was a strong easterly and the temperature was a lot cooler than it had been a week previously. There were far fewer Carp on the surface so I rigged the bottom baits up first before starting to flick a few mixers out every now and again.

There are so many fish in this place, catching is almost a formality and sure enough I soon had fish feeding on the surface and after half an hour had a confident take on a floater which I contrived to miss. Fifteen minutes later the rod cast to the tree roared off. I set the hook and played a small Carp all the way to the net cord before it shed the hook. It was over the net at the time and I had a debate with myself as to whether it 'counted' or not. I decided not. Almost straight away the other rod went but this time the result was disappointing in a way, a Bream of about a pound whichsplashed its way to the bank. I know, I shouldn't be disappointed but I wanted something that pulled back! It took another half an hour before I had another positive take on the floater and a battling Mirror of about five pounds in the net.

After that I decided to concentrate on the boilie rods. At 1920 the rod cast to the tree went off again but I wound down to nothing, the fish had managed to eject the hook. Another twenty minutes later and the same rod was away once more, this time I connected and soon had a small common in the net. Thereafter it went quiet, no more bubbling or swirling over my baited areas so I started feeding floaters again. Soon fish were up and feeding and I'd hooked and lost one within a few minutes. More feed, a little patience and soon more slurping Carp. A few minutes later I hooked another fish which pulled hard trying to reach the snaggy trees but turned just in time. If I'd lost this one I'd have been convinced it was a much bigger fish than the six or seven pound common that ended up in my net.

Daylight was fading and the temperature dropping quickly. I felt much better for my fix and packed up feeling a lot more relaxed than when I'd started out. I've said it before but a couple of hours fishing can 'restore' me as well as eight hours sleep. However, I've had enough of small carp for the time being, time for another crack at the Tench.

A few days later...

The long dry spell continues, this morning it rained for the first time in a month and the rest of the day turned muggy and humid. The Marsh has been very quiet of late, no one seems to have been catching very much at all. Would this increase in temperature change things? I was in no real hurry to get to the lake, just as well as I spent most of the afternoon boiling up particle baits. By 1600 I pulled up in the car park and went for a look around. The place was much greener than it had been a fortnight earlier and the first lily pads were pushing their way through to the surface. I didn't really have any definite plan of where I wanted to fish, at least I didn't think I did. The lake was quite busy but there were a few spots left that I fancied, one in particular but this was in the middle of the boggiest part of the water and therefore uncomfortable. “Stuff it” I thought, “I'll fish it anyway!” By 1715 I was settled in and happy with the choice I'd made. Yes this part of the water is dark and damp, yes the mud absolutely reeks but I can live with that. All of these things make it one of the least fished parts of the lake but I've caught a fish or two here in the past and I felt confident.

There are lovely, fishy looking overhanging trees on either side of this swim with eight feet of water underneath. Close in there's a small bed of lilies too. I baited the left hand tree heavily with the seed mix and fished fake corn and boilie on a 10” hooklength with Hemp in a PVA bag. I decided to bait the tree on the right sparingly with mixed pellets. I'm not sure why, it seemed like a good idea at the time. On this rod I used a pop up on an inline bolt rig. By 1830 I had the bivvy up, everything sorted and was chilling out with a brew when I had a few bleeps on the left hand rod. These didn't develop into anything but I found it encouraging and topped up the groundbait.

I decided to give the float rod a go so put a little groundbait by the lilies and set up slightly over depth with fake corn as bait. Half an hour of being plagued by Rudd was enough, I landed a couple and found it simply impossible to keep the bait in one place. Time for a fry up as the light began to fade and the bats came out to play. By this time the lake was completely full and I was amused by the flashing blue and red lights of a bait boat on the far side of the water. At least this bloke was fishing a spot that would have been a difficult cast...

I recast both rods with fresh baits, topped up the groundbait and settled into my bivvy. By now it was 2130 and with the light virtually gone I decided to close my eyes and get a bit of kip as I fully expected to be up at the crack of dawn, hopefully before...At around 2345 I was awoken from my slumber by a”take”on the right hand rod. I say it was a take but it didn't really 'feel' right and it may have been a bat... Sadly after that all I had was a good night sleep, disturbed only by the odd bleep and a bit of rain in the early hours.

By 0545 I was up and about again, roused by the dawn chorus and a couple of cuckoos. As I was milling around 'something' rolled by the pads, maybe a Tench, if it was a Rudd it was certainly one worth catching. I quickly set the float rod up again on this hazy, cloudy early morning, what would it bring? It brought Rudd, Rudd and more Rudd. Once again it was very difficult to get the bait down and even the fake corn was being taken with gusto. Some kind of float leger rig might have done the trick but I didn't have the necessary bits and pieces to set it up, typical! A few bubbles and rocking lily pads gave me hope so I persevered and at 0700 was rewarded with a sail away bite. I connected to something that felt quite substantial but after a second or two it was gone....

Still the Rudd were attacking my corn but by now they too were being attacked by Pike. Showers of silver shapes were flashing skyward amidst spectacular swirls. Maybe I should clip a trace onto the rod I'd brought for spodding and give it a go with a livebait? By the time I'd had this thought the feeding had virtually stopped and anyway, what would the Pike police say? Instead I watched a Treecreeper make its way up the overhanging branch to my left and continued to enjoy the bird song from all around. A Tern was diving and trying to catch fish as was a Kingfisher in much more subtle style amongst the trees to my right. Out in the middle of the lake, the Grebe which had been sitting on eggs two weeks previously was taking its brood for a tour.

By 0900 I'd virtually given up hope but had nothing else to do for a few hours so had a little change around. I'd been meaning to test out a new method mix for a week or so and now seemed as good a time as any. Happily it mixed up nicely, stuck to the feeder and generally done all that it was supposed to do. At 0930 I was amazed by the sound of a steady take on the left hand rod, at last! I picked up the rod and felt sweet FA, somehow I'd contrived to miss an unmissable take??? Obviously my rigs aren't hooking the fish with the efficiency that someone more experienced than me would expect. I like to learn things on my own, the hard way and I'm certainly doing that!

By the time the clock had ticked around to 1100 I had packed away most of the gear and was sitting in the sun, ready for a quick getaway should the forecast rain appear. I had accepted my fate, another blank but had learnt a little more. Rigs and methods will be modified further and hopefully I'll be back soon!

A walk on the 'Dark side'.

2011-04-28T15:27:00.000-07:00

Another week of hot still weather has passed, bringing the water temperatures up nicely. With my fatherly duties over by 3pm I hastily loaded the car and set off for a water I've never fished before. Actually this water used to be controlled by a syndicate and about twenty years ago a mate, “big 'un” & I stumped up the cash and set off for a recce, searching for Carp. We had a walk around, saw a few small carp and left decidedly unimpressed. Eventually our money was returned, we weren't given membership to the syndicate for some reason and that was the last I saw of the place, until today.

Nowadays the water is strictly controlled by a small club. It's quite a nice looking little place but otherwise fulfills all the criteria of a “commercial” type fishery in that it is crammed full of small to medium sized Carp. My “excuse” for fishing here today was to test out a load of new pellets in a variety of styles and flavours produced by “Lake Wizard”. The plan was to fish a method feeder on one rod and a PVA bag set up on the other, chop & change a bit to see what worked etc. However the weather was not really ideal for this style of fishing as the majority of the Carp appeared to be on the surface.

After having a leisurely wander around I could see Carp just about everywhere I looked and quite a few other anglers too. Eventually I settled on a swim in a nice shady bay. This swim ticked two boxes, 1- there were Carp about, 2- there were no other anglers present! I rigged up a method feeder using pre-soaked pellets, baited with a 10mm boilie and chucked it towards some overhanging bushes. What should I do with the other rod? It would be silly to ignore the surface gulping Carp so I chucked a handful of chum mixers out, surely these pressured fish would be wary? No, Carp appeared and slurped them down without a care in the world. Surface fishing used to be my favourite method of catching Carp, in fact I caught my first 'twenty' on a free-lined mixer back in 1985. Through the eighties and early nineties I done loads of floater fishing and know full well how frustrating it can be. Free offerings slurped down with abandon whilst hookbaits are ignored. I fully expected this to be the case today.

I tied a size 12 hook direct to 8lbs mono and baited with a single piece of floating fake corn. The carp were coming in close so there was no need for any casting weight I was able to flick the hook bait the required distance with ease. Another handful of mixers were chucked out and these too began to disappear down greedy mouths. Would my hookbait be taken? Yes, within seconds it was taken confidently and I set the hook into a fish which powered off before shedding the hook in an instance. Bugger! Well that must have pissed on the matches, to coin a phrase. I was sure the fish would have been well spooked now and half heartedly chucked another handful of mixers out. To my surprise these were being slurped down eagerly within seconds. I didn't have long to wait before another take and this time no mistake, after a brief battle a little mirror of about six pounds was in the net. I took a quick photo just in case it was the only fish of the day.

Now that must have spooked the swim? More mixers out and more Carp appeared to eat them without a care in the world. Within a couple of minutes fish number two had taken the bait and actually felt a bit bigger. After a strange fight in the margins I netted one of those funny looking ghostie koi things. A lot of anglers rave on about these but I thing they're just ugly. This one might have made it over the ten pound mark but I couldn't be arsed to weigh it. There were fewer fish around now, perhaps they had spooked or maybe I'd caught the greedy ones? Fish still fed on the mixers but were a tiny bit more hesitant with my hookbait. I dipped the fake corn into a tub of liquid flavouring and out it went again, this seemed to make a difference as within a couple of minutes I hooked a third fish, this time a common which soaked me in the net.

By now I was becoming restless. Yes I was catching fish but I wasn't learning anything about the pellets I was supposed to be trying out. I decided to catch one more fish off the surface before putting all my eggs into one basket and fishing both rods on the bottom. This last fish took longer than expected as I managed to miss two sail away takes yet still couldn't spook the fish in front of me. I'm pretty sure that takes came quicker on freshly 'dipped' baits than when I left it a while. Eventually I hooked and landed another common, a twin of the previous one, surely not the same fish? I'm pretty sure I could have continued catching like this all evening but it held no challenge. In just over an hour I'd caught more carp than in the previous decade.

I replaced the floater rod with a heli rig and a PVA bag full of pellets and concentrated on two bottom fished rods. There were loads of fish in front of me and my left hand rod was continually beeping. Almost certainly liners but I couldn't be arsed to back lead. Eventually I had a proper take and hooked into another Carp but this shed the hook after a second or two. I felt a greater sense of anticipation hovering over twitching indicators than I had watching Carp slurp down the floaters. The light began to fade, a water vole hurried along the margins in front of me and an 'orrible big brown rat ran down the footpath. I had to be somewhere so started packing up. An enjoyable couple of hours all told, not really my cup of tea but I'm sure I'll be back as it's a good place for the family to learn a little more.

And a few days later I returned, this time in the company of my better half, giving her the chance to catch something that pulled back rather more than the small silver fish she has become quite adept at catching. The day had been another warm, sunny one but a fresh Northerly wind had blown up as the afternoon had progressed. We arrived in the late afternoon and had a leisurely stroll around. There were a few other anglers about but we found a nice comfortable swim, out of the way, big enough for two and with a few fish showing.

My tactics for the night were to fish with two rods on the lake bed, despite the amount of carp cruising around on the surface. I fished a boilie/fake corn combination plus a PVA bag of mixed pellets to an overhanging tree opposite me. Also a cage feeder stuffed with pre soaked pellets and the same boilie rig was dropped beside a bush along the bank to the left. I did set up a floater rod too but this would be for Shelley to use. I began feeding with 4 or 5 chum mixers chucked out every minute or two and it wasn't long before these were being sucked down. However the Carp were a little more wary tonight, having been hammered for four days of a bank holiday weekend. Also there was a large amount of floating debris which made keeping an eye on the bait almost impossible. In the end I had to resort to attaching a small float as an indicator and using a larger flavoured floater made by 'Lake Wizard'. Shelley at this point was wandering around the banks with her camera looking for photo opportunities.

I couldn't resist having a go and it didn't take long before I had two small commons on the bank. By this time Shelley was back and I handed the rod over to her. There then followed a frustrating half hour with several near misses and a couple of lost fish before she set the hook into a Carp that stayed on. After that it was pretty much plain sailing for Shelley she hooked and lost a couple but did a good job in landing four fish in total, the best around six pounds. All the Carp were considerably larger than the silver fish she'd caught in the past.

As for me, well I had one of those days. I forgot how to cast, or more to the point I forgot how to avoid trees. I swear if I was fishing from a boat a mile into the sea I'd have found a way to cast up a tree. Maybe I should get a bait boat? NO!!! When I got it right I managed to catch a couple of fish on the bottom baits. There was one spot in particular, beneath an overhanging branch that produced a take within minutes if I could get the cast right... I also sneaked another fish on the floater rod before the end. We packed up with the light fading and the temperature dropping quickly, the recent hot spell had come to an abrupt end.

So after two evenings on a 'commercial' type water have I changed my mind about this type of fishing? Well yes and no. It is good fun for a couple of hours, if (& only if) you're catching and a good way to share some fishing with the family. It doesn't hold enough of a challenge for me though, for example, having caught a couple of fish on floaters I'd lose interest in that method. I know I'd get thoroughly pissed off if I fished when it was really busy too. One thing in particular struck me, this water has rules to safe guard the fish, i.e. no keep nets, barbless hooks only and so on. However, almost all the Carp I caught this weekend showed signs of wear and tear, damaged mouths, flanks or fins. Overall it is what it is, for the most part it's fun.

Questions

2011-04-24T08:28:00.000-07:00

Another hot, still day had pushed the water temperature up to 19*c by the time I arrived at “The Marsh”. The lake was empty so I had the pick of swims and opted for 'the point' on the east bank. I was happy, as I'd whiled away the hours at work, this was the spot I'd wanted to fish, I had what I wanted to do all worked out. I used 10mm boilies, balanced with fake corn on 10” coretex hooklengths with heli rigs. To my left was a tiny bay of about two feet deep that is shaded with Alders and fringed with reeds. I baited the entrance to this with a carpet of hemp, attached a PVA bag of hemp & hemp pellets and dropped this on the spot. To my right about twenty metres away is an area of emerging weed. I baited the edge of this with about a kilo of mixed halibut pellets, filled a PVA bag with more pellets and plopped this rig on the edge of the growing weed. Two rods out and fishing, now it was time to assemble the rest of my tackle and prepare for the night.

I laid out the unhooking mat between the rods with the landing net on top. Erected the bivvy and sorted everything out ready for the night ahead. The last trip a fortnight previously had swept away the cobwebs and for once I felt better organised than ever before. Time for a fry up, now where's me lighter? Bugger, no lighter = no food! So much for being organised! After an hour I had a couple of blips on the alarm of the hemp rod. Probably a liner, despite the back lead. This place is absolutely teeming with silver fish making the use of maggots and corn for Tench, sometimes impossible. Another hour passed and hallelujah! I found an old lighter in my bag, sausage sarnies were on the menu after all!

Palace!

By 2130 both rods had been recast with fresh baits and the groundbait had been topped up. A good sized fish rolled to my right, over the area baited with pellets, a good sign! It was virtually dark, stars were pricking out of the sky and bats were swooping around all over. With nothing else to do I settled down into my kip back and chilled out, eyes closed listening to the sounds of the countryside around me. Will a fish disturb me tonight?

Around midnight I was startled awake by a sharp pull on the right hand rod. Maybe a liner but possibly an aborted take? Something told me it was the latter. I dozed a while longer but was awake by 2am. I decided to check the right hand rod, no tangle. I rebaited, fresh bag of pellets then the rig was dropped back on the spot and I got back into my kip bag. I couldn't sleep, somewhere out there came the sound of a motor. It sounded suspiciously like a chainsaw....at 0215 in the morning???? Who? Were? and Why? The mind boggled....

Sleep overtook me once more until a few bleeps on the hemp rod roused me around 0500. The dawn chorus was in full flow and the first cuckoo of the year was calling enthusiastically. I rolled out of the bag and went through the drill of rebaiting and re-groundbaiting both the rods. It was a bit chilly so I climbed back into my bag again, disappointed the dark hours had failed to produce but still optimistic that the early morning period might see a fish appear.

By 0830 I was up and about again. I'd pretty much conceded defeat but kept on trying regardless. The left hand rod was cast further along the bank towards an overhanging tree and I set up a float rod baited with fake corn which I fished on the area I'd been baiting with hemp all night. I did have a bite or two on this rod but these were missed and Rudd were almost certainly the culprits. The sun shone strongly and I sat cooking breakfast, reflecting on what I was doing wrong? Last spring I'd learnt the hard way that although maggots, casters and corn are very good Tench baits, in this water they won't last five minutes before being decimated by the shoals of sliver fish. I've almost been forced to go with the boilie approach but this has worked on every other water I've fished for Tench. Are my rigs just not hooking the fish? I'd prefer shorter hooklengths but these may see my hookbait disappear into the silt. Questions, questions.

One of the regulars wandered around for a chat and informed me the lake had been busy earlier in the week but nothing of note had been caught. Despite the warm weather this spring the fishing had been slow. Maybe I'm not doing much wrong? Keep faith, keep doing what I'm doing? Time will tell. By midday the sun was high and it was becoming uncomfortably hot. I had a proper sweat on by the time I'd lugged all my gear back to the car. It'll probably be another couple of weeks before I return to the Marsh and I've got plenty to think about until then.

Springing

2011-04-11T08:32:00.000-07:00

We've had 3 days of clear skies, sunny hot weather, with temperatures in the high teens, even surpassing 20*C at times. It's unseasonably warm at the moment but before we know it we'll get some more normal wet grotty April weather . There's no doubt that this weather will get the Tench and Carp moving so I was keen to get out and at 'em, The only potential problem was preparation, would I have time to swap my Pike set ups for Tench rigs? In the end I did but only just. On Thursday night I bunged a load of gear in the car then I tackled up two rods and some rigs.

Work dragged and I couldn't get off until 1800 so the early evening was a mad rush. I called in at home quickly, put the bait in the car, wolfed down a pizza then head off to 'The Marsh' for the first time this year. For once there were a few other anglers about and it was highly unusual to see the swims that were occupied all involved a walk. The car park area was free, OK car park it is then.

I had a plan, I baited up with the seed mix, making a line of about 10 metres at right angles to the bank. The idea behind this was that any fish moving through the swim would have to encounter this line of bait. This was not my idea, I read it in Rod Hutchinson's “Carp strikes back” nearly thirty years ago. Hookbait was a good quality 10mm boilies + fake corn fished on regular hair rigs – Coretex hooklengths on heli rigs, with hemp in PVA bags. One bait was fished close to a reed bed in the margins the other was cast to the end of the 'line' of bait.

With two rods out and the swim baited and light fading fast I turned my attention to my camp for the night. I erected my cheap & cheerful bivvy, organised my kit then set up my brand new bed-chair. Believe it or not this is the first proper fishing bed-chair that I have ever owned. I've always made do with makeshift crappy stuff and just got by. I've been night fishing for over thirty years but never before in such luxury.

With everything organised I settled back for a much needed chill out session. The Marsh is a hard water but I was confident that my approach of using the seed mix and a good quality boilie would put me in with a good chance should any fish visit my swim. Now it was simply a case of relaxing and hoping the Tench agreed with me. By now it was dark, bats streaked through the air above me and the sky was decorated by a crescent moon and a sprinkling of stars. Nothing much happened throughout the evening, well to be precise, nothing at all happened. I decided to get into my kip bag for an early night. My most recent experience of night fishing had been in the boat, tonight I would experience unprecedented levels of comfort!

Despite the opulence of my accommodation I didn't sleep particularly well. Sadly I wasn't disturbed by any fish, only a few bleeps on the rods during the dark hours. I awoke at 0510 and rebaited both rods then topped up the line of seed mix before getting back in the bag. I was happy to find that after 9 hours on the silty lake bed the boilies still smelled good. I still felt confident that should any fish visit my swim in the dawn period then my methods would do the job. Once more I settled down to slumber.

Awake again at 1000, this time I was disappointed that nothing had happened in the period of the day that I expected to be the most productive. I got up and decided to switch methods on one rod. I rigged up a small method feeder with a short hooklength and a popped up boilie. This recast regularly, plopping it into different parts of the swim, mostly around some emerging lily pads. The other rod was kept the same and once more I topped up the line of seed mix. This was the beginning of another lovely sunny day. A bit of ripple from a North Easterly wind rippled my swim. By and large the 'marsh' was still wearing its winter clothes; brown reeds and skeletal trees but the signs of spring are there. Buds in the bushes and emerging greenery all around, spring is definitely well under way.

At 1130 I was concentrating on frying breakfast when the bobbin on the close range rod climbed quickly to the rod. I was hovering, waiting for it continue but the line slackened and the bobbin slowly fell back. A liner? A few minutes later I had a repeat performance on the same rod, would it keep going?....sadly not. Previous experience on this water has seen ream as the culprits. I left it for fifteen minutes then recast.

By midday I was beaten. I slowly tidied up, leaving the rods till last as usual. A blank session to start my spring season on the 'Marsh'. I had plenty of these last year, hopefully I've learnt enough to put things right this year. Those big Tench are out there.

Two days later I was back at the Marsh again, this time in the company of my son Isaac. A few weeks ago I'd acquired a Pike rod for him, his very first rod of his own and today was the first time he'd actually used it. The weather was warm, bright and sunny with a temperature topping out at 20*C in the early afternoon. I know the Piking police would have me crucified for fishing in this kind of weather and nowadays I do very little warm weather Pike fishing but this was different. I was taking my son fishing and I don't give a rats arse what anybody else thinks!

There was no early start, it was a leisurely 0930 before we arrived and settled into a nice roomy swim with the fresh westerly wind blowing into our face. First job was to rig Isaac's rod up with a Mackerel fished on a float leger rig. Second job was to teach him the mechanics of casting a fixed spool reel. All his Pike fishing to date has been done with lures trolled from a boat or when he was really young I'd do the casting for him. All the other fishing he has done has been with a whip so today, aged 8 ¾ he learnt to cast and I'm delighted to say he learnt quickly.

Once he was settled I put out a couple of Tench rods. A balanced boilie/fake corn was fished with a PVA bag full of hemp and cast along side a reedbed to my left. To the right I fished another boilie on a method feeder cast towards a snaggy area. This left the middle of the swim wide open for Isaac to practice casting! The feeder rod was recast every half hour or so but the left hand rod was pretty much left alone. I also rigged up a waggler rod fishing corn and shared this with Isaac.

To cut a long story short we didn't manage to christen Isaac's new rod with a Pike, in fact the fishing was slow all round. I had a couple of short pulls on the method feeder but that was it as far as the Tench rods went. Even the waggler rod was slow but in the last hour we did manage to catch a few Rudd each, one of which went on the Pike rod but to no avail. We did enjoy a large fry up and just after noon and after filling up with sausage sandwiches we packed up in the early afternoon. Another slow session from a fishing point of view but time spent with my son is priceless.

Timebomb ticking.......

2011-04-06T13:44:00.000-07:00

Six weeks have passed since I highlighted the lunacy of the Broads Authority's plans to dredge Heigham Sound. Since then John Currie and the guys from Norfolk PAC with The Norwich & district pike club have taken the fight to the BA. For my own part I have engaged in debate with the officers of the BA with a series of emails. Despite being bombarded with evidence and information spelling out the folly of their ways, the BA stubbornly refuses to even compromise, let alone back down.

What we are facing now is the following 'worst case' scenario;

The BA has reached the conclusion that the system needs dredging thanks to “desk based” studies from Cranfield university using a “conceptual model” (i.e. a bunch of students in a classroom) The unnecessary dredging goes ahead in the summer, the worst possible time because higher water temperatures aid algal blooms. Instead of using the more environmentally friendly suction methods of dredging, the BA uses the antiquated clam bucket equipment it bought second hand a few years ago. This could potentially scour too deep into the bed and allow salt to creep in.

The BA currently only tests for Prymnesium on a weekly basis and has not stated any plans to increase this frequency.

OK so if the Dredging triggers changes in the water, an algal bloom results which goes undetected for several days allowing Prymnesium to flourish. The algae multiplies and so does the toxin. The longer this goes on unchecked, the more potential damage will be done.

When the bloom is finally detected the BA proposes to pump water from internal drainage ditches into the affected area. Ditches that could well be virtually dry in summer or at worst, be full of all sorts of nasty pollutants and of course more of the dreaded prymnesium. How they will pump this water is still unclear at this time.

So despite the warnings and evidence which the BA writes off as “anecdotal” the quango marches blindly on and incurs a massive ecological disaster that kills the system, no Roach, Bream or Pike. No Otters. No Bittern, or Grebes. There is a history of this “anecdotal evidence”, it happened in 1969 and it took a decade for the system to become a viable fishery again. There have been numerous smaller outbreaks since then and in all honesty the Thurne system has never fully recovered.

It's OK though because the channel will be deep enough for the big boats to go through and the BA will have done their job.

Please register your opposition here;

Telephone on 01603 610734 or email via the website on http://www.broads-authority.gov.uk

The Angling Trust is a body that I've criticised through these pages in the past but on this issue they have been fighting in the trenches with us. Mark Owen of AT produced the letter below and it would help if people would copy this (or write something similar) and send it to your own MP.

I sent my version of this letter to my MP on 23/3/11 but sadly I still await a reply. Shame on you David Ruffley, Tory member for Bury St. Edmunds.

Your Address

Date:

MP’s name and address

Dear

I am a keen angler and one of your constituents, I regularly travel to the Norfolk Broads to enjoy fishing the most important fishery in the country and to enjoy the scenery in, what is, a European and globally protected site for its wildlife and the habitats that support it. But all this is under threat; the Broads Authority plan to dredge approximately 1.3 Kilometres of the waterways at Heigham Sound for navigation purposes. Whilst this sounds benign and laudable this carries a severe risk of causing a toxic algae bloom that in similar circumstances in the 1960’s resulted in hundreds of thousands of fish being killed and turned into an ecological disaster from which Broadlands has never recovered.

I believe that the plans for dredging by the Broads Authority should be immediately stopped and that an independent public enquiry should be held to consider:

· Whether the dredging for navigation is necessary

· If it is found that it is then the enquiry should have the powers to insist that the Broads Authority carry out the work in the most ecologically sensitive manner utilising best practice from those countries that regularly encounter this issue

The Broads Authority is intent on carrying out this dredging within the next few weeks despite the objections of hundreds of anglers and increased concerns from the recreational boating sector. I would ask that you urgently contact Richard Benyon MP, Minister for the Environment & Fisheries in order that he instructs the Broads Authority to stop the dredging and order that an enquiry take place.

Yours sincerely

Marching on

2011-03-28T12:17:00.000-07:00

I carried on visiting my favourite place through February and March. The fishing was hard but I managed to catch a few and loved every minute. And now the traditional fishing season has come to an end, no more visits to the special place for a few months now.

So it's time to look forward to the spring and summer, hopefully I'll have a little more success with the Tench this year and maybe one day I'll lose my self appointed tag as the worlds worst Tench angler. Or maybe not.

This weekend just past I found myself with a couple of hours to spare and just had to go fishing. Well to be accurate I'd had a few too many the night before and prescribed myself a bit of fresh air and a chill out session. The fishing shed was a dis-organised tip, no Tench gear anything like ready to fish with so I picked up my bank fishing kit, grabbed a couple of deadbaits, filled a flask and set off.

Half an hour later I was relaxing in a chair at 'The Pool' with a paternostered Pollan covering the open water and a float legered Herring dropped in the margins, in front of a reed bed. The signs of spring were all around, not only was the temperature hitting a heady 11 degrees but there was blossom in the hedgerows and green buds beginning to show on some of the trees. The first green reeds of the year were also pushing their way up through the margins. As much as I love winter Pike fishing its nice to enjoy the warmer weather and more vibrant colours. Warm weather fishing is so much easier all around.

The fresh air was doing me good, the easterly breeze in my face was keeping me awake and I was starting to feel almost human. It may sound odd but I'd forgotten I was fishing, when all of a sudden I was startled into life by the sound of an alarm, the float on the Herring rod was moving along the margins away from me. I quickly wound down and bent into a fish, for once the rod stayed bent! A decent fish plodded up and down the margins showing no intention of going in the net. She surfaced with a flare of the jaws showing a larger than expected head. Soon I had her in the net, then onto the mat. A nice fish that would have weighed a few pounds heavier pre spawning.

I sat back with a smile and promptly forgot I was fishing again. Sadly I wasn't interrupted by any more bleeping alarms as I enjoyed another hour or so of fresh air and countryside. I couldn't help but be struck by the irony; maximum effort goes into most of my winter Pike fishing and here I'd had a nice fish whilst recovering from a hangover. Maybe I should do it more often?

Weekender

2011-03-15T14:08:00.000-07:00

The Pike Anglers club of Great Britain is without doubt a wonderful organisation. Aside from 35 years of preaching Pike conservation and sticking up for the rights of all predator anglers, the club has provided hundreds of anglers young and old the chance to fish for big Pike in beautiful places. It has raised thousands of pounds for charities and it has a great social side with regional meetings all over the country. The biggest social event of the year is the annual convention, not just for the event itself but also the chat in the hotel bar. People of all backgrounds from all over the isles talking about Pike fishing in all sorts of waters. It was through this kind of chat that I got to know Steve and Rob. These guys done most of their fishing on waters very different to the ones we know and love but they loved the same things and fished for the same reasons. Last summer Steve and Rob took my Barbel fishing in a wonderful place and this winter Rich & I had the pleasure of their company for a bit of Pike fishing.

A little different from the norm, waterside digs with boats laid on. I arrived first and had time to go out for a couple of hours fishing and a look around. The weather was grim and grimy and no fish crossed my path. I met up with Steve and Rob and after all getting settled in the digs we adjourned to the nearest pub for a couple of pints and a plate of grub. The food was great, the beer was excellent but unfortunately the music was not quite duelling banjos but it wasn't far off.

Rich joined us the following morning and ahead of us were three days fishing in a wild and beautiful place. The weather was typical winter fayre, with a bit of everythingWe fished long and hard over those days and travelled far and wide. We fished the narrow places, the open spaces, ditches and boat yards. We chucked everything at the Pike but the going was very tough. We did manage to catch a few fish up to low doubles on a variety of methods. The wildlife didn't let us down though with virtually the full set putting in an appearance.

The company was great though, with laughter often echoing out. We talked about the Pike we've caught, the Pike we dream of catching, the places we've fished, the near misses and the disasters. Along with this we talked music, cricket, football, TV totty, moments of sheer lunacy and all the usual bloke banter with the world put to rights once again. The evenings followed the days, banter flowed along with a little booze and lots more laughing. We all planned to meet up again for another weekends fishing soon. So the company, the banter and the setting were all first class it was just the fishing that was under par but as Rob said, we always felt we were in with a chance.

The Broads Threatened.....again!

2011-02-24T13:09:00.000-08:00

Last spring I wrote about the madness of the Broads Authority in their plans to dredge parts of the Norfolk Broads. The BA are planning to dredge again this spring and sadly everything I wrote before is relevant once more.

Can I be so bold as to urge anglers to please express their anger to the BA at the contacts below;

Telephone on 01603 610734 or email via the website on http://www.broads-authority.gov.uk

My own complaint read as follows;

Dear Sir/ Madam,

After the concerns voiced by anglers over island creation and particularly dredging in Heigham Sound last year I think it is an absolute disgrace that the BA proposes to dredge further. This is an ecological timebomb that has the potential to be disastrous for the Broadland environment. The BA has been informed of the dangers yet carries on in this gung ho fashion regardless. I find it difficult to find the words to express my disgust at this.

Yours faithfully

Michael hastings

Apologies for repeating myself but for once the message is important. I wrote the paragraphs below a year ago yet here we are again.

The River Thurne system in Norfolk is renowned for producing truly huge Pike such as John Goble's monster 45.08 caught in 2009. This reputation goes back decades and the Thurne is arguably the most historic Pike fishery in Great Britain. The Thurne system is unique in many ways, most notably the water quality. Despite being freshwater the Thurne is very slightly saline, enough for Brine shrimps to live thus giving the food chain a boost.

The Thurne system is also an area of outstanding natural beauty, home to many rare species and an internationally renowned haven for migrating birds. As part of the Norfolk Broads the Thurne is also a much loved tourist destination and with wide expanses of water popular with windsurfers and sailors. All of these activities provide a much needed boost for the local economy.

The Broads Authority is the quango charged with managing this unique natural resource and has to balance the interests of all the interested parties. Financially anglers are, and always have been the poor relations compared to the well healed yachting fraternity and the nature facists.
Prymnesium Parva is an algae and like all photo plankton it blooms when conditions are right. However when it dies it releases a toxin that is deadly to fish. Prymnesium needs saline water and a disturbance of the sediment on the river bed also “helps” the algae bloom. The Thurne system has a sad history of Prymnesium blooms and fish kills going back many years.

John Goble 45.08 2009

Turn the clock back to the late 1960's. The Thurne system was clear and rich in weed, a fabulous fishery which held vast shoals of large Bream, big Rudd and Tench. It was also an unbelievable Pike fishery producing big Pike in numbers that have never been equalled. The largest was Peter Hancock's fish of 40lbs 1oz caught in 1967, the first fully authenticated forty pounder ever caught in Great Britain. Shortly afterwards the river authority at the time dredged ditches in the north of the system, “coincidently” Prymnesium Parva reared its head. In 1969 the Thurne system was virtually wiped out as a fishery, people who were around at the time talk of the stench of rotting fish. Although fish of all species were killed in great numbers, Pike in particular were very badly affected and it took more than a decade for the system to recover. Since 1969 Prymnesium has reoccurred sporadically causing more fish kills, often these blooms have“coincided” with dredging taking place around the system. In between the blooms the Thurne has continued to produce huge Pike like no other natural fishery.

Now jump back to the present day, a few people racing yachts in the Heigham Sounds area of the system run aground. Anyone who knows the area conclude they must have strayed from the boat channel (which is clearly marked) because there is plenty of depth here for any sensible craft. Immediately the yachting fraternity call for the channel to be dredged, the tail wags the dog and the Broads Authority, with a bit of spare cash starts making plans to do just that. Not only are the BA intent on dredging, they plan to use the old fashioned crane and clam style bucket which will drop as much sediment as it removes. If dredging must go ahead then the suction method would be less risky but that would cost more money!

At this point the local anglers start to get worried and voice their concern to the Broads Authority. Much credit has to go to the John Currie, regional organiser for the Pike anglers club of Great Britain who has led the campaign to get the Broads Authority to stop and think about what they propose to do. John has contacted universities and biologists around the world from Texas to Australia and the overwhelming opinion is “we don't know enough about Prymnesium, don't touch it”

At a meeting in January 2010 the BA's representative Dan Hoare gave an informative presentation outlining the dredging plans and fielded difficult questions very well but had to admit that he didn't know anything about the risks caused by Prymnesium. The BA doesn't know what will happen and state they will proceed with caution but once a bloom is triggered there is no way of stopping it. They claim they can't use suction dredging as there is nowhere local to dispose of the sediment and moving it elsewhere will cost money.

A month later Natural England's representative Chris was equally articulate but left the people attending the meeting open mouthed. “NE's remit is to protect the bird life NOT the fish.” Even when it was pointed out that some of the protected birds, the Bittern for example, lived on a diet of fish, NE is still not interested in protecting fish...so the Bittern will have to starve. The dredging is set to take place in the early summer, warm water temperatures increase the risk of a Prymnesium bloom so if it has to be done why not the winter months? NE say they do not want over wintering wildfowl to be disturbed. Anyone who knows the Heigham Sounds area will tell you there are very few birds in the area during the winter.

At a planning meeting the following week the Broads Authorities plans were put before the Broads Authorities own planning committee and guess what? Yes they were unanimously passed. JC was given three whole minutes to speak and his protests were waved away, those sitting on the committee don't even know what prymnesium is! In short, the top people at the BA, the people making decisions and spending toll payers money do not know as much about Prymnesium as a humble builder from Norwich!

So to summarise we have a government funded body made up of unelected officials who made an application to dredge Heigham Sounds to appease the yachting bods. This application was approved by their own in-house planning committee. Corruption??? They ignore scientific opinion from around the world that is screaming “don't touch it!!!”. They ignore the more environmentally friendly (therefore expensive) methods of doing the work. They ignore the fact that this dredging is likely to trigger an algal bloom that could cause the deaths of millions of fish, and worst case scenario, wipe out an ecosystem and devastate the local economy.

The Broads Authority is a well intentioned organisation gone wrong. Too much bureaucracy, too many people making unsound decisions and trying to justify their salaries. They have a history of not listening to other opinions and just blundering on regardless. If the dredging goes ahead and goes wrong those opposed to it will not keep quiet, those responsible will be called to account.

Same old....

2011-02-23T13:00:00.000-08:00

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.

Tough

2011-02-01T12:45:00.000-08:00

I took a slow drive listening to news from England's cricketers down under. This was followed by a mixed CD of sounds from my mis-spent youth. As I neared my destination I narrowly missed a lazy Muntjack crossing the road in front of me. Soon I was there and loading up but my departure was slowed by an ignorant individual who jumped in front of me at the slip way then took an age. Usually all is good and sociable here but there's always one...

I was soon afloat and settled for a spot I'd done OK in this time last year. I'd hardly got the mud weights down when I heard the sound of an engine. The boat that had held me up at the slip appeared and began to anchor up close by. Too close in my opinion so I set off again in search of peace and quiet. The area I eventually plumped for, was one I'd caught fish from in the past but not one of my favourites. I put four deadbaits out then settled down to wait . I poured a cup of tea to help wake myself up and smiled. Today I had a plan and it was good to get back out on the water.

I kept twitching baits and covering the water but wasn't really happy in this spot. After an hour the I'd had enough so ventured out into open water, eventually settling into the “stump” where my confidence was boosted by a breeze from the north rippling the water. I spent about ninety minutes here, a little mist was coming and going, as was the wind. I had another short move to an area new to me but this too failed to produce anything of note. My next stop was scheduled to be a favourite bay but when I entered there was a boat in the spot I fancied, yes it was “him” again! Oh well! I'd made up my mind that I would spend a bit of time in a part of the system I rarely fish so decided the time was right, do it now!

On my journey it became apparent that there were lots of anglers about, more than I'd seen all season. I eventually anchored up at a spot that had been very kind to me in the past. I fished a Mackerel and a bluey on the near reedline, chucked a Lamprey into the open water and set a Herring to drift under a float then sat back to enjoy the peace and quiet of my surroundings, only the sounds of bird life to disturb me.

My plan was to stay in this general area so after a couple of hours I pulled up the weights and had a short move, fishing with similar tactics. Rich appeared in the late afternoon, he was late due to spending a bit of time catching bait and kindly donated a couple to my cause. As the light began to fade I had a decision to make; where should I spend the night? I had two choices in mind, one was a spot I'd fished before, the other was totally new to me, I opted for the latter. As this was a new spot for me I spent a bit of time carefully casting a float around to find depths and weed etc. I was settled in just before dark; A mackerel cast towards a point in the reeds, a popped up herring chucked towards the weed in a bay, a bluey and a paternostered livebait fished in open water.

Just after dark a moderate wind blew up from the north, clearing the cloud and allowing the stars to shine out, however the temperature was dropping fast. Rich was tucked into the reeds a couple of hundred yards away but reported an otter was disturbing his swim so was planning a move. I lay back in the boat and vegetated for a while. I felt very tired but tea and sausage sarnies reinvigorated me. I thought about the swim I was fishing and repositioned the baits, covering what I hoped would be ambush points. I really liked this 'new' area and was feeling confident.

Time past and my confidence proved unfounded, by midnight nothing had disturbed any of my baits and I was thoroughly knackered. It was time to wind the rods in and get some kip. As I began to drift off I reflected that day one hadn't gone to plan but I hatched a plan for day two. The conditions might be good for trolling at first light, lets see.

The night passed, I was cold and uncomfortable so slept fitfully. I was wide awake long before dawn so recast fresh baits and woke myself up with a brew. I fished here for an hour then decided it was high time for a move so quietly left the area. A fresh wind had blown up in the early hours so trolling wouldn't work for me today. When settled again I had a slight change of tactics fishing a paternostered livebait upstream and allowed a free rover to cover the swim in front of me. I fished a mackerel and a Bluey on the near weedlines then settled back for breakfast. This was interrupted by a take at long last, something had snaffled the paternostered livebait. I pulled into a fish but felt minimal resistance. A very small Pike was dragged to the boat where it opened it's mouth and spat bait and hooks back at me, the little bugger. Oh well! I spent ninety minutes here then as more boats began appearing, decided it was time to leave.

In mid morning I rendezvoused with Rich again. We anchored up side by side and spent a couple of hours searching the water around us with live and deadbaits. There were lots of Grebes about and we thought maybe we had a chance of a fish but it was not to be. By lunch time we'd both had enough and tidied up. It was great to be back and an enjoyable couple of days but the system had beaten us again.

Bluster & luck

2011-01-20T12:18:00.000-08:00

At long last we've had a week of milder weather without snow, ice or frosts. Most waters have been fishable for about a week now, those not prone to flooding that is. This was my main concern as I made ready for another early start. Car loaded; tackle, engine, bait, food, clothing, everything ready the evening before, all I need is a decent night sleep... As usual I slept fitfully and it was a struggle to get out of bed when the alarm went. Six weeks away, what would I find when I get there? It was hard to feel confident.

The roads were clear and I sped along quickly, forgetting the bloody speed camera until too late??? Or was it?? I got to the boat yard in plenty of time but then had the task of bailing out six weeks worth of rain and melted snow along with a few running repairs to the trailer. As I had made slow progress getting ready I decided to get the boat sorted and organised before heading out into the wild. When I left the shelter of the yard the wind hit me full in the chops and the waves threw the boat around. I had a wild journey with drizzle and spray hitting me in the face but it was good to be back.

I eventually made it to my destination, an area selected from previous experience at this time of year. It looked like I might have stumbled on to something as there were a couple of other boats in the area. Normally this would be a cue for me to head off somewhere else but with no better idea coming to mind I decided to stay put. I used the normal methods of carefully positioning deadbaits around the boat, hoping to make a nice trail of oils, smells and other gunk which the Pike would find irresistible. Conditions were uncomfortable, cloudy but mild with a fresh to strong south westerly wind and a little drizzle early on. Not nice weather to fish in but normally good for fishing at this time of year. A little over an hour later nothing had happened so I decided on a short move upwind. Here it was more of the same. I was struggling to get my head around things, struggling to come up with some kind of plan to put a Pike or two in the boat, feeling out of sorts again.

By late morning I was on the move again. I couldn't get comfortable getting battered by the wind and didn't feel confident either. I retreated to a relatively sheltered spot which is also a pretty consistent area throughout the year. I was glad to have moved because the wind was increasing making this spot little more comfortable than the first couple had been. Then I heard the lovely rhythmical purr of a bait-runner, surely that had to be a take? I picked the rod up and began winding down, something just didn't seem right as I bent into...nothing. It was at this point that I realised the mudweights had pulled free and I was slowly drifting, by which time two other bait-runners had joined in.

By the early afternoon I was feeling a little deflated and despondent. The wind may have been making things uncomfortable for me but these were decent conditions to be fishing. Having been away from the system for so long I had no recent experience to fall back on. Looking back to previous seasons hadn't worked for me today either. Time for another move but where? The was a spot I've been meaning to try for a long time now but for whatever reason I just hadn't got around to fishing it. Today it was extra appealing as it would give me a good deal of shelter from the battering wind. It would be quite a journey to get there but once there I'd not only be out of the worst of the wind but my journey back to base at the end of the day would be considerably easier.

After a white knuckle journey I was settled and fishing by 1340, enjoying a bit of shelter which actually made a hell of a difference to the comfort level. If I didn't catch anything here, at least I'd learn a little bit more. After about fifteen minutes I was treated to the very welcome sight of a fish swirling close by, surely a Pike? I had a mackerel popped up off bottom close by so carefully twitched this back to hopefully cover this fish. However when the bait runner screamed out a few minutes later it was another rod, this one baited with a Bluey. When I first wound down the fish felt decent but the curve in the rod straightened out and the tell tale head shakes transmitted down the line told the story. Not a big one but a Pike none the less and the way things had gone today I was grateful for that!

I re-baited, recast again and recommenced fishing with renewed enthusiasm. A couple of fresh baits were cast into previously untried water. Just over an hour passed and as the sun began to descend I had another take, this time on a mackerel. The strike put a proper bend that stayed in the rod as a clearly heavier fish kited downwind. I soon had it close to the boat where it powered up and down a bit before I drew it into the net and it was only then that I realised that the mudweights had slipped again and the boat was drifting. The hooks came out easily and normally I would have got the camera out for this one but that wasn't a priority at that time, getting the boat under control definitely was. She was a nice fish, long and surprisingly lean but showing signs of a previous capture in the recent past. All too quickly she was returned and I set about getting the boat anchored securely again.

I felt chuffed that after six weeks away I'd managed to find a couple of fish, it had been a hard day but I hadn't given up. However, if it hadn't been for the weather conditions I may well have never tried the spot I ended up catching from, you have to make your luck. That was the last action of the day and as I packed up with daylight fading the wind too seemed to be subsiding. Still it was a relief to get the boat back to sanctuary and begin the long process of getting it out and sorting everything. After that follows a ninety minute drive which will see me arrive home knackered. I'll repeat the procedure at the first available opportunity.

Motivation

2011-01-08T10:44:00.000-08:00

It's the New year and I haven't been fishing for weeks. I was so bored waiting for the cricket I ended up brightening this blog up. I'm kind of getting itchy feet but at the same time I'm struggling to motivate myself to get off my arse and go out into the cold in search of some fish. It occurred to me that the last time I fished was before the Ashes series started and now here we are, the series is done and dusted with an England win. Now the cricket has finished there is one less thing to occupy my mind so motivation increases again. I have a bit of time this weekend but all the local stillwaters are only just showing signs of thawing after a few nights where the temperature has stayed above freezing. Tonight we have another frost forecast so the chances are they'll freeze solid again. I might find open water if I put some miles on the car but just can't be arsed to put in that amount of effort when I know I'll struggle when I get there.

There was a time when I'd have spent the last few weekends scouring the countryside looking for fishable water. These days would inevitably end up in a struggle but most of the time we'd find a fish or two and very occasionally hit jackpot. Like the time the 'Big fella' and I travelled up to the fens. The river we'd planned to fish was rushing through, carrying all sorts of debris down with it. We drove on to another river which looked better but didn't inspire any confidence. We ended up setting up on a drain where we were confident we could keep our baits anchored in one place while we chilled out for a while if nothing else. Out of the blue an alarm sounded, the 'big fella' dropped onto a 12+ pound Zander! In hindsight although the conditions weren't great for Pike but were pretty good for Zeds. Other than that I struggle to recall another day when things went quite so right.

Despite all of the above I'm also sure I could have caught a few fish had I been a little bit more open minded about where I fish. Now cabin fever is looming I've been racking my brains and realised I do know a couple of venues where I would have had a chance of some decent fishing in recent weeks, had I been able to get the timing of my visits right. Back to the old catch 22?

A few days have passed and during this time the temperature has slowly risen. Driving around I've noticed the first signs of waters thawing out. Forecast for today was for a high of 10 (yes ten) degrees with a fresh westerly wind. After six weeks of Arctic weather, stillwaters will thaw and the Pike will feed. It's a great time to go fishing and I had time to squeeze a short morning session, somewhere.

I couldn't get my arse out of bed too early but managed to make my way to 'The Pool' around 0745, happy to see that for once there were no other cars parked up. I wanted to fish an area I hadn't tried before, a small point which would allow me to move rods about and keep covering water. I was sure Pike would be feeding, it was just a question of finding them. As I walked down the path the lake just didn't look right....it was still covered with a thin sheet of ice! Bugger!! Or words to that affect. What should I do now? I scanned the lake and noticed what looked like a thin strip of clear water on the windward bank. My choice of swim was cut to one but at least it was a spot I'd caught from before.

By 0800 I was fishing. I legered a buoyant smelt and float legered a Herring head. These were cast into open water and twitched back towards me every now and then. I also rigged up a lure rod using a Replicant which I fished deep and slow. This was cast around every now and then, in between and around the bait rods. The morning was a stinker, dank and murky with light rain but it was mild with a fresh westerly wind. Good conditions for Pike fishing in my experience, especially as the icy lid was only just beginning to lift.

The wind was doing a good job of breaking the ice and after an hour about 1/3 of the water was clear, giving me more scope to cast and search the water. After another half hour even more water was clear but I still hadn't seen sign of a fish of any kind. Conditions were good, I may not know much about this lake but I knew I should be catching fish. I switched the float leger to a paternoster rig to keep the bait away from any debris as I twitched it back towards me. This was cast about thirty metres to the edge of the receding ice. The other rod I just dropped at the bottom of the marginal shelf to my right. 10am, I should move but where? The area I wanted to try is still frozen but there is another swim now clear in between, should I give it a go? I picked up the lure rod to have a few casts while I pondered the decision...

Out of the blue came the sound of the BBBB alarm, surely not a take?? My lure was cast nowhere near so that ruled out one potential calamity. It was the margin rod which I picked up and wound down putting a nice bend in the rod. A decent fish plodded up and down the margin but was soon bullied into the landing net, my first Pike of 2011 and clearly the largest I've caught so far from this particular water. A nice lean fish in good condition with unsurprisingly a sprinkling of leaches. I took a quick photo then slipped her back. A fresh smelt was dropped into the same spot then I sat back with a cup of tea. I only had an hour left so decided to stay put.

That hour passed quickly without any further action then it was time to pack up and get back to the madhouse. My motivation is back and I'm fishing again!

Out with the old

2010-12-30T13:08:00.000-08:00

End of year bollocks

As I sit at the keyboard tonight, it's late December, it's still hellishly cold, Lakes and rivers across the country are frozen solid. It's looking unlikely that I'll get out and on the river before the new year. As good as time as any to have a look back at what went right over the last twelve months as well as what I managed to cock up.

The year began Pike fishing at my favourite place and it was very slow and every fish hard earned. I caught a few but nothing massive and as always, loved every minute. The spring and summer was mostly spent fishing a new water for Tench and whatever else happened to take my bait. I managed to catch Rudd, Roach, Perch, Pike, Bream, Carp and yes a solitary Tench, my second best ever. Hard fishing but stimulating. Highlight of the summer was a successful trip out west which resulted in my first ever Barbel. The Autumn was once again spent Pike fishing with a bit of success until this current cold weather brought everything to a stand still.

I'm not the slightest bit interested in turning up at the some hole in the ground, casting out and winding fish in. Wherever I'm fishing, for what ever species, it has to be interesting. Just about everything I've done this year has ticked the boxes so it'll be more of the same next year. I will continue avoid the most popular places and carry on doing my own thing with my own goalposts.

Another year has just about passed and as usual I've loved spending spare time in beautiful places, trying to catch fish. Below are a few favourite photos from 2010.

Cold with a capital F

2010-12-17T14:48:00.000-08:00

We've had three weeks of sub zero temperatures, snow, ice and all the crap that goes with it. When there's been half a break in the weather I haven't had the time to go. When I do have some spare time the weather is freezing. I thought I might have a go at “The pool” recently but the lid didn't come off. I should really make the effort when it finally does, but maybe then I'll have the time for... This weekend could have been a window of opportunity but the forecast is for heavy snow and more FFFreezing temperatures. Then there's the whole utter madness of the brain dead Christmas rush around. I suppose I'm going to sound like Mr Scrooge now but it's driving me fucking nuts. As the year winds down, everything and everybody speeds up, running around like demented morons because the shops will be closed for one day! Must get stuff, any stuff will do. Stuff, stuff and more stuff. Then get in the car, sit in traffic until the conveyor belt reaches another shop, then more fucking stuff. Thank god for online shopping! Even with this wonderful life saving creation, actually going shopping cannot be avoided. Stir crazy, going nuts. Best look on the bright side. At least the waters will have had a few weeks of rest, as have I.

In the autumn there was a load of talk on the fishing forums about traces and hooks for Pike. Single hooks are the big talking point at the moment, some anglers are advocating them as a viable alternative to trebles. Some fisheries are promoting them as being more “fish friendly” than trebles being supposedly easier to unhook and this I find worrying. One high profile day ticket fishery has banned trebles and insisted on singles as a measure to protect their stocks of predatory fish. Other similar fisheries have talked about this idea too. The use of a single hook will not stop an idiot from damaging a Pike. OK this idiot may arguably do less damage with singles but it is wrong to legislate against any method when the real problem is bad angling. These day ticket fisheries would do better to have pro-active bailiffs on the bank to educate people and enforce the rules already in place. Maybe this is too expensive but they could fund this by not advertising the Pike fishing in their water as this ruins the fishing quicker than anything! Good fishing doesn't need advertising, it speaks for itself.

I'm not against using single hooks, if an angler is confident in what he is doing and happy with what he catches then good luck to him. A good friend of mine has been using singles almost exclusively for two or three seasons now. He has his own method of doing it, which makes sense and he believes this has improved his hook up rate and I can't argue with that. He's landed some very big Pike on his methods, enough said. What I do find annoying are anglers who preach that single hooks are the way to go for the “fish friendly” reasons that the day ticket waters hide behind. I don't like this one-upmanship. Use them if you want, don't tell me I should be for moral reasons. Pike anglers have enough restrictions without imposing our own.

I may give singles a try sometime but when it comes to livebaiting then it's trebles all the way for me, Owners in size four or two. It's a confidence thing for me, trebles work and the way the bait is hooked I struggle to see a better way. I rig them up the way Dave Horton does it, with the bottom treble sliding as described in "Ultimate Pike". For most of my fishing I use deadbaits. I've used double hooks since 1987 and although I've occasionally dabbled with combinations of double and treble I know feel totally confident using a twin double hook trace. Maybe they're easier to unhook than trebles? Maybe not. Partridge or preferably Drennan in sizes six, four and occasionally two. For what it's worth the wires I use are ET's Mr Softee with a breaking strain of 35 pounds for deadbait rigs and Mason's Multistrand in 30lbs b.s. for livebaits. Below, purely for the sake of it, is a photo. Oh, the silver ball thing on the livebait trace is one of ET's rig rattles. Do they make a difference? Who knows, I think they do and they certainly don't hurt.

24 hours later and the latest five day forecast looks even worse, it's minus bloody six out there! It's highly unlikely I'll fish before Christmas, maybe I'll get a chance over the break but before we know it the new year will be here. Then we start to count down the weeks before the season closes. Before we know it, spring will be here. A nice thought when it's cold outside. I want to catch some more Pike first though! Here's to milder weather ASAP.

Here and there

2010-11-22T12:23:00.000-08:00

As usual I was awake early on a damp miserable morning. Everything had been made ready the previous evening so it was simply a case of filling flasks, loading the car and hitting the road. At least it should have been, I got to the end of the road and had a nagging feeling that my freezer bag wasn't in the car, and so it proved. Five minutes after that false start I was on my way again. I had an easy journey along clear rods, belting out “The Prodigy” and thumping the steering wheel. My mind went back to the summer, watching Maxim prowling the stage at the bowl, audience in the palm of his hand. I also thought about a certain bureaucratic quango; “Fuck 'em and their law”.

At the slipway it was still gloomy and raining, in fact by the time the boat was loaded up it was absolutely chucking it down so I decided to tackle up in the relative shelter of the dyke before heading out into the wilds. I also managed a bit of float fishing and caught one sizeable Roach for my trouble, I wouldn't be letting this one go! I ventured out into the open with a fresh south westerly blowing the stinging rain right into my face. I dropped the weights at the “stump” once more and quickly had four rods out and fishing by 0730. By this time the gloom had lifted a little but there was no real sunrise as such. This is a regular stopping place for me early on in the trip as it is a decent area and gives me a chance to get the boat fully organised before heading off to explore further.

Today it proved a good choice as after half an hour I looked up to see my float skimming across the waves signalling something trying to make off with a Bluey. I quickly set the hooks and found myself attached to something that wasn't particularly heavy but didn't want to come anywhere near the boat so punched above its weight. Even when I brought it alongside this Pike wasn't finished. I turned to pick up my forceps and by the time I looked back it had dived under the boat and out the other side. All was soon retrieved, a nice fish safely unhooked and returned before normality resumed. Would anything else make an appearance in this area? No, an hour later I was pulling up the weights and preparing for a move.

My next stop was predictable, was “shit or bust bay”. Once again I stuck to fishing with four deadbaits, saving the Roach for later. I cast a Herring and “the evil” out into open water then fished a Bluey and a mackerel on the reedline. Sadly today was bust. I spent a while bailing water out of the bottom of the boat, this had gone unnoticed when I launched. After completing this procedure it was high time for another move so I quietly made my way across an area I hadn't fished before. I sat here a little over an hour and in this time the sky cleared some what to reveal some very welcome patches of blue and a respite from the persistent rain. No Pike troubled me here but once again I'd searched a little further and learnt a little bit more.

Harriers, yes there is!

By 1300 I was slowly approaching another favourite area. There were other boats about here but I hoped there'd be enough room for me to squeeze onto the corner of a bay without disturbing anyone. There was another boat about one hundred metres away and I judged that this wasn't too much encroachment so carefully dropped the weights and set about fishing. I was on t the spot I'd taken a couple of fish from on my first visit of the autumn. By 1315 I was settled and fishing with Herring and Mackerel in the open water plus Bluey and Lamprey on the weedline. I hadn't been there long when I noticed action in the boat across the other side of the bay.

I hardly had time to ponder on this before a flat spot caused by oil on the surface attracted my attention, had something chomped the Bluey? Yes! The float was sliding away! The resulting strike put a proper bend in the rod, lovely! I found myself attached to a big angry Pike that didn't want to come near the boat then had a similar reaction to the landing net. After a brief tug of war and lots of boiling water she was mine! Into the sladle, unhooked then weighed, a quick photo before being admired briefly, (bootiful!) and returned. Job done!

A very angry Pike

I spent a happy hour smiling to myself and sitting in the sun, an all to rare experience so I enjoyed it while I could. It was bright but the wind had increased and swung a little, a fresh Westerly rocked the boat about. Before long itchy feet took over and I was pondering my next move. Obviously other boats in the area cut down the options and I ended up sitting in a spot I've fished a few times before. I've never boated a Pike here but it does tick all the boxes and it's only a matter of time. Not today however. As I tidied up for my final move of the day Rich made his way into the area. After a quick chat we headed off to our chosen places to spend the night.

I settled in to the same general area that I'd fished a few weeks previously. I cast a Herring and a Mackerel into open water then a Lamprey towards the bay. Finally a Bluey was dropped close to the boat along the weedline. For once I had time to get everything ship shape in the daylight then got down to business of a traditional evening meal. My usual healthy option of fried vegetarians nightmare. As the sun sank in the sky I changed a couple of the rods round, I replaced the Lamprey with the “evil” and swapped the Herring for the Roach livebait fished on a Paternoster rig. I washed dinner down with a cup of tea then sat back to wait.

Night fell but there was no let up in the wind which if anything had increased and veered to the North West. The night was mostly cloudy and rain fell in showers from time to time making life a little uncomfortable. Occasionally the full moon broke through the cloud and reflected spectacularly in the choppy water. The wind rushed through the nearby trees making that familiar sound. It was another wild night! The evening passed by with Richard and I texting filthy jokes to each other but neither of us was disturbed by a fish. By midnight I'd had enough so wound the rods in and retired to the comfort of my sleeping bag, covered with a plastic sheet, in the bottom of the boat.

I awoke around 0630 and despite the opulence of my accommodation I was damp and uncomfortable. However I soon shook this off, cast out three fresh deadbaits and put the kettle on. Once again the cloud made the sunrise a non event, the wind was now light and from a westerly direction. After ninety minutes without action and a hearty breakfast I was pondering a move. This was put on hold however by a couple of heavy showers, whipped in by the freshening wind which by now had swung back to a North Westerly.

Before much longer I was anchored up in the spot I'd had the fish yesterday, employing similar tactics. The Roach which was still full of beans was switched to a float rig. I hoped to drift it down the wind but this fish was intent on swimming everywhere but where I intended it. None the less it was still covering water so I wasn't too bothered. The time here was spent mostly watching Harriers in a sky that had now become a clear blue. I spent just over an hour here then moved a hundred metres or so south to a point in the reeds. Forty five minutes here followed without incident so I tidied up, upped the weights and moved off the area.

The view

By 1300 I was sitting pretty in a large bay at a spot that had produced a few nice fish in previous autumns. Here I was mostly sheltered from the still strengthening wind and for some reason I felt confident. I continued to drift the Roach around under a float rig and fished deadbaits on the other three rods. I chucked a Bluey and a Lamprey downwind then with the final rod I popped a Herring up to fish it just off bottom. This rod was kept on the move, twitching and recasting regularly. I was watching the livebait float dance its way along when after half an hour a ticking baitrunner alerted me, once again the Bluey had been picked up. I wound down and bent into a fish but immediately felt the taps of a head shaking jack being transmitted along the line. This lasted for a second or two before the fish came off, it may have been small but I don't like losing fish, ever. The Bluey was recast and I figured I'd missed my last chance of the trip but I'd better give it a bit longer just in case. Forty five minutes passed and I'd given up and begun tidying up the boat. Was that a baitrunner? Bloody hell it was! There was a flat spot on the waves downwind and the float was moving rapidly to the right, Bluey again. I bent into a better fish which tail walked on impact then pulled hard against the bent rod. She was soon subdued and alongside the boat, another good sized, plump fish in fantastic condition which I chinned with a gloved hand. The hooks were just in the scissors and were removed easily, no need for the sladle this time. Should I take a quick photo? Normally I probably would have but as this one was still in the water alongside the boat I simply removed my hand and allowed her to drift off.

After that I felt obliged to stay a while longer but nothing else occurred. The last of the rain clouds had departed and I packed the tackle away in sunlight which was a relief. The wind was still fresh and the boat skipped across sizeable waves on our way back to the slip. Another weekend in my favourite place had come to an end leaving me very tired and slightly damp. I hope the weeks pass quickly so I can get back here and do it all again.

Can I be bothered?

2010-11-14T13:19:00.000-08:00

The children were busy for a couple of hours so relieved of parental responsibility I quickly loaded the car and sneaked off to “The pool” once again. On arrival I was disappointed to find that the car park was full again, I don't know why this was a surprise after my last visit but there you go. I walked past a guy bivvied up Carp fishing, next to him were two fellas quietly Piking. The swim I'd fished on my previous visit was occupied by a couple of kids so I dropped my gear into the first empty one I encountered, this would have to do.

I cast a popped up Smelt into a deep margin in front of a reed bed then quickly tackled up a whip, float fishing maggots to hopefully catch some livebait. Next job was to set up a Paternoster rig ready for the inevitable wriggling Roach to be mounted on it. I scanned around the lake, apart from the three anglers I'd passed there was a collection of Dads and lads on the far side, probably the same ones as last time, just as noisy anyway.

Catching silver fish for bait was proving a lot more difficult than I'd expected. I discarded the whip and set up a waggler, fishing a couple of maggots on the bottom and put a little groundbait in, still no bites. I never was any good at this style of fishing. A fortnight ago it had been dead easy to catch a load of fish on maggots in mid water now it was as if all the silver fish had vanished. It's important that I find out where!

I noticed the Carp angler had emerged from hibernation and was faffing around with something in the margins. It was one of those bait boat things which he used to place his bait to some dying lilies around 30 metres away from where he sat. Not the easiest of casts but one any half decent angler should be able to make eight times out of ten. What is angling coming to when a bait boat is used for something like this?

I'd been fishing for just over an hour when finally a float dipped, it wasn't the waggler it was the Pike float signalling the Smelt had been picked up. The strike was successful and I soon had a perfectly conditioned Jack Pike thrashing in the margins where I picked it out, unhooked it with my fingers and returned it without a fuss. I don't think any of the other anglers even noticed which is just the way I like it.

I fished on for another hour, the silver fish still conspicuous by their absence. I never even cast the Paternoster rod that had sat on a rod rest all morning. For once I wasn't sad to be packing up, fishing crowded waters isn't my thing at all. I can't help finding it strange that this pool which was almost deserted in the summer is getting so crowded now. Both my visits here have coincided with unseasonably mild, bright weather, has this brought the crowds out? Or two plus two = a popular Pike water? Maybe a decent fish or two? Can I be bothered to join the crowds to find out?

Attention Cricket fans

2010-11-11T14:11:00.000-08:00

Less than 14 days until the Ashes starts;

For the best cricket coverage on the WWW

http://www.espncricinfo.com/

For an interesting alternative view, check out Tim Holt's blog the link is on the side of the page.

Tim kindly invited me to write a piece

http://atouchofirishintheglobalvillage.blogspot.com/2010/11/crunch-time-for-england.html

For the best debate and discussion well moderated and without idiots (well not many anyway)

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Cricketainment/99370978680

And for a bit of banter

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=293815919099&ref=ts

Out of sorts

2010-11-08T07:45:00.000-08:00

Every now and then I get a reminder that people actually read this shit that I type on here and, as daft as it may sound, every time it comes as a surprise. When I first started writing this stuff 2 ½ years ago I saw it as little more than a nice way of keeping a diary and putting a few pictures up. I can't remember ever 'advertising' it, I just wanted a way to record my memories. Maybe someone would come across the page by accident from time to time, maybe not. When the penny dropped that there actually one or two people around who had enough spare time to read this crap I then realised I had to write it in such a way that I didn't actually tell anything to anyone. This is a challenge in itself, it has to be kept honest without giving too much away. Every autumn, as the Pike season approaches I ask myself, 'do I really want to do this again?' It's strangely addictive however.

Anyway, I had another 'reminder' last week which caused me to ask myself whether I've been a bit unfair to Derrick Amies and his, er … book. In his defence it is only fair to state that Derrick Amies has caught a hell of a lot of big Pike, more than I ever will even if I live to 150. He also knows his way around his home waters far better than most of us, myself included ever will. So who the hell am I to question him? In the interests of balance it's only fair that I make some positive comments about the book. I enjoyed the history section more than I expected and DA's defence of Dennis Pye is admirable, leaving me with the feeling that I wanted to believe him. The chapter on Pike location is very interesting and for the most part believable, even if the hard evidence is lacking. Derrick's thoughts on boat-craft and the need to be quiet on the water are common sense and hard to argue with but maybe a little extreme? However, on this point I'd happily bow to Derrick's greater wisdom. What I'm trying to say is Derrick does have some interesting ideas but it's bloody hard work extracting them. The parts when the book is good, then its pretty interesting. But the parts when it's bad....

Back to the fishing. I had a couple of days free of responsibilities so I was really looking forward to another two days out on the water. I knew exactly where I wanted to fish and how I wanted to fish it. However as the time approached there was a black cloud on the horizon, literally. The forecast for the second day was for heavy rain and gales and not only did this cause an honoured guest to postpone it threw the plans I'd made out of the window. I've read all the stirring tales of Pikers with white knuckles battling rolling waves to heroically get to and from their destination but bugger that, it's only fishing! Was this the reason I felt completely out of sorts as I staggered around the house in the silly, early hours of the morning? Or was it because I opened the wine bottle too early? Either way, instead of bouncing out of bed, all eager to go I was decidedly out of sorts, no energy, no get up and go. So too the journey north, normally my mind is full on thinking about where and how I'm going to be fishing. Two days previously I knew exactly what I wanted to do but now I didn't have a clue.

At the slipway there was a bit of a queue but friendly faces and chat so all good. My bloody engine wouldn't start, after a while I realised I hadn't put any petrol in it.... As I made my way out I still had no idea where I wanted to fish, the wind was from the east and I remembered a spot that had produced the goods this time last year in similar conditions, that'll do for me. As I rounded a reed bed I saw a boat about a hundred metres away, exactly where I wanted to be. Bugger that, plan B was my usual default plan. Head to the spot I caught fish from last time out. By 0800 I had the weights down and the usual four rods positioned around the boat. The sky was a mixture of clear blue and dark clouds that occasionally splattered me with rain. Conditions, at the moment, where pretty good and I was in a decent area with good bait so surely I was in with a shout of a fish? For some reason, today it just didn't feel right.

After ninety minutes I needed a move, but once again I had no real idea of where to go. When I did make up my mind, what did I find? Not one but two boats in the area I wanted to fish. Now I was down to plan D or was it E? I ended up fishing a point between two bays. I've fished here once before, it looks great but on both occasions I've failed to find any fish here. By now the bright, breezy weather had brought more water sports enthusiasts out, twats with sails, so unfortunately these had to be considered before I made my next move. Eventually I settled into another spot I'd had fish from in similar conditions. A nice bay that gave me a bit of shelter in order to have a fry up. I liked it here, a place I've had some success in the recent past and no other boats about either. For some reason, once again I just couldn't feel confident.

Something caught my eye and I glanced to the float fishing a Bluey by the reedline, all of a sudden there was a swirl as a pike attacked my float! Surely it was going to take the bait? Five minutes passed, nothing. I twitched the deadbait a foot and steered my (non dumbell rigged) livebait into the general area. Fifteen minutes passed, still nothing so I started casting a lure, gradually and carefully searching the area. There was a Pike about, could I get a take? The short answer is no. Oh well, fry up complete I sat in the sun with a full belly being entertained by swarms of starlings overhead and planning my next move. It was at this point that the next problem of the day occurred.

I started the engine no problem but the bloody thing didn't want to go anywhere! A quick phone call to Rich confirmed what I suspected, shear pin, luckily I had a spare which was soon fitted and off I went. Rich had boated a Jack earlier in the day but apart from that had struggled. We rendezvoused close by, cast out and sat socialising for a couple of hours. Why was the fishing so poor in what appeared to be decent conditions? Perhaps the barometer was taking a dive with the incoming storm?

The sun began to dip and Richard had to head off, I was left with a decision to make. Should I find somewhere safe batten down the hatches and ride out the night? Or should I follow Richard back to the slipway and give it best? By now the wind had dropped completely and the water was like a mirror in places but for some reason It felt hostile and I wanted to be off. As I pulled up my mudweights that was my intention but as I slowly motored out of the area I was struck by the beauty of the setting sun reflected in the near calm water. I laughed to myself, this is fantastic!! Once again thousands of Starlings swarmed in the sky above me. I resolved to stay and slowly approached an area I fancied only to be greeted with rolling Bream. This will do!

With fresh enthusiasm I put four rods out again, covering the area as Bream continued to roll. For the first time today I actually began to feel a little confident and with no other boats in the area I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I'd put in the effort, would I be rewarded? With the sun sinking the wind died away completely leaving it flat calm. I rocked my boat sending the only ripples on the water as I moved about like Bambi on ice and reflected maybe Derrick had a point? He'd certainly hate sharing a boat with a clumsy git like me that's for sure. I stayed in this spot for a couple of hours by which time the Bream had stopped showing and it was fully dark. What do I do next?

I had another move tucking into the reeds about one hundred metres away from my last stop. Once again three deadbaits and a livebait were positioned, as usual fished on tight lines with boat-biters. Stars reflected in the calm water and I had a permanent firework show going on in all directions. At times the night was so quiet the silence was oppressive but then at others there was a cacophony of sound; startled pheasants in the woods behind me, cattle mooing, dogs barking and Tawny Owls from all directions. There were also some other strange sounds, was that a Bittern?

I had one last fry up, washed down with a brew. It was decision time, do I stay and ride the night out or do I give it best and sleep in a warm bed tonight? It really hadn't been my day but to be honest, from the moment I'd crawled out of bed in the morning my heart hadn't been in it. I just couldn't get my head round the fishing today. I packed up and carefully made my way back to the slip in the pitch black. The system had beaten me today but I'll be back soon.

Two books

2010-11-04T16:17:00.000-07:00

Autumn is not only the traditional start to the Pike season it also usually sees the launch of any new book releases and this year was no exception. For several seasons there's been at least one Stephen Harper production too and long may it continue! You know what you're going to get with with one of Steve's books, a high quality product that is beautifully laid out and a real pleasure to read. In the recent past Mr Harper has produced books for Neville Fickling, Eddie Turner and John Watson to name but a few. This years offering has Stephen's own name on the spine as under the title “Dream Pike” he has compiled a series of previously untold stories relating to the capture of Thirty pounds plus Pike by a wide variety of authors. The intention is to “entertain and inspire”, so does it tick the boxes?

The stories come from anglers of varying noteriety within the game and cover all water types from the wild loughs/lochs of Ireland & Scotland, Trout waters, gravel pits, drains, lakes, ponds and Broadland. With a book like this it's inevitable that the reader will enjoy some stories more than others. There were one or two that failed to move me and a few more that I could take or leave but on the whole most are highly entertaining. The ones that stood out for me were those by George Higgins, John Nunn and Stephen Harpers own tale. The eagle eyed reader will notice that one Pike in particular (at least) is pictured in two different stories whilst another is featured in a different book. If I was to split hairs to offer a criticism it would have been nice to see more “new” authors as opposed to some of the more familiar names.

Maybe I'm a little biased because I know several of the contributors but on the whole “Dream Pike” is a damn good read and I found it both entertaining and inspiring.

There was another book released this autumn. Derrick Amies has always been a controversial figure since he reappeared on the Pike scene in the early eighties. In those days he was notorious for being instrumental in the deaths of three massive Pike from the Thurne system. Since then some have openly questioned his integrity while many others have done so on the quiet. Would his long awaited book “Pike Fishing on the Norfolk Broads” finally answer all the questions and settle all the arguments? I read with an open mind hoping this would be the case. So what about the book?

Go straight to the introduction. Here DA states; “I have always said that this will be my only book, therefore I wish to make the best job of it that I possibly can.” If this is the case, why oh why did he not employ a proof reader? The first spelling mistake I found was in the second paragraph of the introduction of the book. The punctuation, grammar and spelling are absolutely appalling. The layout is amateurish and the photo reproduction is poor. However, I was trying to read the words of an angler, not a writer so I soldiered on anyway. Surely If I could fight my way through the “English” then there would be a reward? A genuine insight into Broadland Piking? Some good advice on methods or locations? Let's see.

I read through the chapters on the history of Norfolk Piking, including the defence of Dennis Pye and although certain things sat a little uneasily with me I was prepared to take Derrick's word on things. I carried on through Amies' account of his return to Piking in the eighties and again, there were things that didn't ring true. For example:- Derrick Amies DID catch a 42.02 Pike in the summer of 1985, no doubt. In the text Amies claims that he knew where the Pike would be because of his knowledge of the big fish movements post spawning. However, other writers who fished the system around that time contradict this. As I remember other people have stated that the fish were concentrated in the river at Somerton because of a Prymnesium outbreak further downstream. DA doesn't mention this at all.

Amies “Pike Foundation” makes sense but where is the solid, hard facts that back the theory? Studies made on Windermere regarding the food intake of a Pike do not necessarily mean a Broadland fish behaves in the same way. The chapter on location was also interesting but full of contradictions and not backed by evidence as far as I'm concerned.

By the time I'd reached this point in the book I was uneasy with what I was reading but my mind was still open. I was still prepared to go with what Derrick Amies was telling me. However after I'd read chapter six where DA talks about the methods he uses I'm sorry to say I'd lost it. I may not have Amies experience of fishing the “dumbell” float but I do know enough about the other methods he uses to know he was talking crap. From here on I had absolutely no faith in what I was reading and the inconsistencies were glaring out of the page at me.

Amies refers to his experience as a TV engineer and states his no nonsense electrical background means he relates his fishing experience in the same no nonsense style. No supposition, just facts and evidence. Unfortunately the book is full of theory without evidence & fact.

Also in the introduction Amies claims; “I have to date caught 157 twenties and 1/3 of these have been over twenty five pounds including nine thirties and two forty pounders”

OK so DA knows exactly how many 20's he's caught but can only guess at the number over 25 pounds?? A bit odd considering 25+ fish are the subject of most of the book???

OK reading that sentence DA has taken 9 30's & 2 forties making a total of 11 fish over 30 pounds. In the book we have photos of two forties , no problem there.

How about the nine thirties? We have photos and written stories of a 36.08, 30.04, 30.10, and 30.02. We also have a photo but no story of another 30.10. That's five out of nine thirties, what about the other four?

Surely if this is Amies' Piking autobiography he'd want to mention all of his greatest catches wouldn't he? Obviously not.

One of the missing thirties is the “Hickling 33” which was removed from Stephen Harpers updated 'Pike of Broadland' In chapter 2 Amies tells the full story of his honest mistake regarding the wrong photo being supplied. Harper excluded this fish from the update which clearly upset Amies so why hasn't he put the record straight by printing the photo of the 33 in his own book??? One of the biggest fish DA has caught and it's not there???

Throughout the book Amies is forever referring to watching Big Pike in clear water but the Broads are very rarely clear these days!!!!!

Most writers, whatever their skill, have a 'voice' that is their own. Derrick is trying so hard to sound clever, his voice is drowned out.

So Derrick Amies is unable to produce photo's for all of the big Pike he claims to have caught.

He is able to see into water that usually has visibility down to one foot at most.He can make a float fished livebait go where he wants, like a dog on a lead.

He understands exactly how and why moon phases affect Pike.

Sorry Derrick, I don't believe you.

A little look somewhere else

2010-10-30T15:57:00.000-07:00

In the summer I re-discovered a little water that I hoped might provide a bit of interesting winter Pike fishing from time to time. I walked around it a few times and was encouraged by what I found, a pretty, tree lined place with deep water and a huge head of silver fish as well as decent shoals of Bream. I hardly ever saw anyone else fishing there either, just the occasional mute Carp angler so this too was a bonus. I thought it might make a good place to take my son for an hours fishing every now and then, and so it proved. After an hour fishing with a whip he was usually bored of catching Roach, Rudd, Perch and skimmers. On one such excursion, our fishing was interrupted by an ambitious jack Pike that kept attacking the silver fish we were catching, in fact we made a game of it by swinging our catches in as quickly as possible to avoid the hungry jack. I wasn't interested in catching that Pike at that time but a seed had been planted and I immediately starting thinking ahead to cooler weather. Maybe I'd found somewhere local-ish that would prove interesting for the occasional days Pike fishing?

The other day a window of opportunity opened enough for me to do just that so after a bit of a lay in I made my way down to “The Pool” around nine o'clock. There was one swim in particular that I fancied as it was slightly deeper than the others and also the place where Isaac and I had the “jack attacks” in the summer. My intended swim was free as I'd expected but as I began setting up it dawned on me that the rest of the water was actually quite crowded. Considering I'd only ever seen two or at most three other anglers fishing through the summer months it was a shock to see another six anglers dotted around the lake, what's more ALL of them were fishing for Pike! It looks like my hopes for a quiet bit of winter fishing have been shattered, I suppose I should have known better.

With nothing else to do I dropped a Smelt deadbait into the deep margins to my left and set up a Paternoster rig on another rod. I hoped I'd be able to catch some of the millions of silver fish for livebait and so it proved, within minutes I had a Livebait kicking away in the open water in front of me. And after a few minutes more the livebait was away, I wound down quickly but the culprit had gone, along with my bait! A fresh one was soon in position but only for a minute or two before I had another steady take. This time there was no messing, I pulled the hooks home and soon bullied a jack to the bank where I chinned it out, unhooked it quickly and returned it. I looked up to see I had an audience in the next peg, the fella grinned and gave me the thumbs up, I returned his smile. He looked like he was kitted out properly and knew what he was doing.

I began to look around at the other anglers sharing the Pool with me. On the far side was a real keen angler, fishing a deadbait on one rod then continuously lure fishing with another. Opposite him were a collection of Dads and lads, or to be precise, two dads and two lads. This gave me a little cause for concern, there were floats all over the place and although the adults seemed fairly vigilant the kids were running around here, there and everywhere. The youngsters also seemed to love casting and their baits were being retrieved almost as regularly as the other guys lure. They were also noisy, very noisy and although I'm sure my own children aren't exactly quiet when they accompany me I do know that other anglers won't hear them swearing from the other side of the lake. On the plus side at least the kids were out there fishing, with their fathers instead of staring at a TV. You can't knock that.

My musing was suddenly interrupted by another take on the livebait and I quickly set the hooks into my second Pike of the day. This one was slightly larger than the first but still didn't warrant using the landing net. I tried to unhook and return it quickly and discretely but one of the lads spotted what was going on and hollered “that man has got a Pike!!!” so everyone on the water now knew. Oh well.

Time passed, the sun came out and it was a thoroughly pleasant autumn day. I was getting a bite a chuck fishing maggots for the silvers but to be honest, with enough bait in the bucket it was getting boring. As it got warmer I could have easily dozed off but I was roused by a commotion from the other side of the lake. One of the lads had hooked a Pike. To begin with I did have my concerns as to the fate of the poor creature but to be fair it was soon brought to the bank, unhooked easily, admired, photographed and returned. No harm done and one young lad was having the time of his life and that's what it's all about. Shortly after this I noticed the mad lure angler too was into a fish so that was another happy angler.

Things seemed to have gone quiet in my own swim so I swapped the Smelt for a sardine and cast it a bit further along the margin to my left. I began twitching the livebait back towards me and it was seconds after giving it another pull that it was taken once again. This time the fish ran towards me and I had to wind up a load of slack line before making contact virtually under my feet. Pike number three was the smallest of the day and was quickly and quietly unhooked and returned.

By now it was early afternoon and the Pool grew quiet. The other anglers gradually drifted away leaving me alone which was how I expected to spend the day. It was disappointing to find so many other anglers but tolerable. I don't have much idea as to the stock of Pike in the lake and the unknown factor is appealing but it's popularity might suggest it's quite a good fishery? Maybe as time passes and the weather gets colder it will become quieter, time will tell. It was a pleasant few hours and I'm sure I'll have another go before too long.

Out of it

2010-10-26T10:23:00.000-07:00

As is usual I was awake before the alarm clock sounded and once my mind had worked out what day of the week it was and where I was going I was out of bed and staggering around the house getting ready. I left home at an ungodly hour brimming with enthusiasm For once I had a dream of a journey north with roads that were as clear as the starry sky above. I arrived extra early so I could have a go at catching a few Roach for livebait before setting off. Maggots fished on a whip and a little bit of loose feed done the trick a lot easier than I'd expected and I soon had half a dozen nice baits in the bucket, result!

There was no problem at the slipway either and I was soon out on the water again. By 7am I was anchored up in the “Stump” area with four deadbaits carefully positioned around the boat. I was happy with the deads for the time being so transferred the lives into a Pike tube to keep them fresh. I had no plan to stay too long in this area but figured the dawn period was a good time to be actually fishing as opposed to motoring about the system. The sun rose into a clear sky, the day was mild with a fresh Easterly wind putting a good chop on the water.

After an hour I heard a ticking bait-runner and looked up to see the float moving downwind, the Bluey had been picked up! I quickly readied the net then wound down and struck...into thin air. “Bugger!” Or words to that effect. I told myself that it had to have been a small fish but it also occurred to me that the fish had been moving towards me and I'd actually struck at the fish in such a way I could have pulled the bait out of it's mouth. A really stupid mistake to make but it was too late now! Any quick move out of the area was put on hold for a while. After another 45 minutes or so I'd had enough of the area I shunted upwind about fifty metres instead. My second mistake of the day was discovered as I tidied up for this move. I pulled the tube of livebaits aboard only to discover that I'd forgotten to zip the bloody thing up, what a muppet!

After another hour here I was itching to move. I had an area in mind but decided to visit another spot en route. Here I was in with a chance of catching some more livebaits to replace the ones I'd pre-baited with earlier. I dropped the weights down, chucked a couple of deadbaits out then started to set the whip up again. It was only then that I discovered that the tip section was either back in the car, laying on the bank or lost. So that was cock up number three, what could go wrong next? Now I had a dilemma, should I stay in this area a while or move to the new area I wanted to try? A holiday cruiser bearing down on me made the decision for me.

By 1030 I was set up in a nice looking bay with the normal four deadbaits scattered about the boat. This was a swim I'd never fished before so I had a cast about to find a depth of around five feet and patches of weed in places.I cast a popped up Smelt upwind and a fresh dead Roach downwind. I placed a mackerel close to the reeds and fished a Bluey in open water. I was determined to explore new areas, this being one and had no real expectations so when, after about half an hour, the bait runner started purring it was a very pleasant surprise! The float on the Mackerel rod was heading steadily towards the reeds so I wound down and struck into a powerful fish. She tried to pull my arms off for a few seconds before turning and running back towards the boat at speed. The fish surfaced as she rounded the back of the boat and after a short tug of war she was in the net. “You beauty!” Long and lean, in mint condition though not yet anywhere near maximum weight but I was well chuffed.

Well chuffed!

I cast a fresh Mackerel back towards the reeds and sat back in the sun with a smile. It seemed my run of bad luck (or incompetence?) had ended in style! I had plans to fish elsewhere later in the day but that could wait, I'd be going nowhere for a while! At 1155 it happened again, the Mackerel was picked up but this time the float headed upwind. I bent into another fish which put a good bend in the rod but was soon bundled into the net. This fish looked longer than the first but definitely leaner and weighed in a few ounces lighter. Another beautiful Pike but this one had a red sore on one side, evidence of a recent capture perhaps?

After that success I spent a couple more hours in the bay though upped the weights and moved about a bit, however I had no more action and by mid afternoon I was back on the engine and heading out of the area. I started off fishing in a large bay then after an hour or so here I had a short move. Hopefully any scent trail coming off the baits from my two stops would be heading towards my intended destination for the night. By 1745 I was there, a small bay giving me a reedline horizon in three directions and I was brim full of confidence as this spot had “form”

Despite having to tolerate two holiday cruisers full of fuck-witted idiots I was soon settled with four baits in position. An “evil” was cast into the mouth of the bay, a mackerel fished on the weedline opposite, a Smelt on the near weedline and a Bluey in open water. All the rods were fished with heavy leads, tight lines and ET boat-biters. The cuddy thing was up and after an evening fry up I was warm, fed, comfortable and confident. I sat back and enjoyed another big sky broadland sunset as the Geese once again swarmed spectacularly. The wind was still fresh and from the east, the clear sky gradually grew dark and a glorious starscape blossomed before me. Or should I say above me? I listened to the sounds of animals, Geese honking, cattle mooing, Coots squawking and somewhere a dog was barking. I counted shooting stars and wished upon each one, 'health & happiness for my loved ones'. I didn't wish for giant Pike, leave that to Karma. I was happy as the proverbial pig in shit, a couple of good fish already under my belt, fishing with confidence on a wild night in a special place. Love it!!

Heavy lead, tight line, boat biter.

At 2330 my confidence was justified by a take on the “Evil” cast to the gap. I wound down and pulled into another fish that ran straight towards the boat and had me winding rapidly to catch up. By the time I was back in touch it was virtually under the boat and after a bit of pulling another long lean fish was in the net! She wasn't as big as the others and showed signs of an encounter with either an Otter or a propeller but I was chuffed to bits once more. With the fish slipped back and the boat re-organised I recast and fished on for another hour before giving in to tiredness and winding in for a few hours.

I love it when self timer shots go wrong.

I was back in the land of the living by 0615 and soon had four fresh deadbaits back out there. The day dawned with a soft red sky in the east, tweeting from the reed beds and a cacophony of noise from the Geese. I cooked breakfast, filled the flask and slowly tidied the boat while planning my next moves. I would have a move, that's for sure but where?? My thoughts were interrupted by the float on the Evil rod moving down the wind, another take! This fish wasn't in the same league as those that had preceded it but a nice fish none the less. That convinced me to have a short move back across the bay, thus staying in the general area. As soon as I'd made the move I knew it was a mistakes but sat here for a short while anyway. After a long hour I got my shit together and moved out of the area.

Dawn

My next stop, predictably enough, was back in the bay I'd caught the brace from the previous day. Would there be any more big Pike about? No, in fact no Pike of any size put in an appearance. By midday I'd moved again, back towards “home base” I arrived with no clear plan of where to fish but once again I let the other water users decide for me. In this case it was psycho's on windsurfers. I settled into a spot where two bays joined forming a point in the reeds. This was another spot I'd never fished before, in fact over the previous couple of days I'd fished in five different areas I'd never dropped the weights down before, catching from two of them. The spot looked like an ideal ambush point and I'm sure it's going to produce the goods at some point but that was not the case today. After another fry up I tidied everything away and headed back to the slipway, dirty, tired, smelly but content.

After a couple of days of exposure to nothing but the wilderness and the weather; no people, no TV, no internet, no traffic, no phones (well maybe not quite), no routine. After two days of doing as I pleased I had to prepare myself for re-entry into the real world. Not at all easy, I cant wait to get back in the boat!

It's that time of year again.

2010-10-13T13:39:00.000-07:00

The curtain raiser to the Pike season is always the last weekend in September when the Pike Anglers club of Great Britain holds it's annual convention. This year it was held in Kettering and thanks to the efforts of Colin Goodge and the PAC committee it was a tremendous success. Rich and I travelled up on the Saturday to help Mark and Gary man the PAC products stand. The hall was full, the crowd was buzzing and a great day was had by all. The evening that followed was equally good, a pub full of Pikers drinking and making merry that continued well past midnight. Breakfast the following morning was a far more subdued affair...

October is here now, in fact the first weekend has been and gone but I haven't yet wet a line. I spent most of the weekend doing things with the kids. The weather may have been wet and windy but the temperature was comfortable enough for us to spend some time outside. A morning at the cinema, a nice walk around the local park lake. Time in the garden with the pet Rabbits, kicking a football around, all good. In between times I've also spent the last week or so slowly getting my shit together. New reel filled with braid and fixed onto the P3. All the rods checked out, rigged up, fresh knots tied etc. A batch of traces tied up ready for the new season. All the gear has been checked and re-checked. Fresh bait in the freezer, food in the fridge, all the flasks and cooking gear ready. In fact I don't think I've ever felt more ready or better prepared for the start of the Pike season.

The evening before my first trip, I had the car loaded and everything good to go. There's only one problem, I'd strained my back and it was giving me jip. Like a kid on Christmas eve I can never sleep the night before I'm due to fish and this was no exception. I was up before the alarm clock and soon out of the house and on the road. The journey north is always frustrating due mainly to the roads and the idiots that frequent them. Today's twat was someone in one of those highway maintenance pick ups who insisted on driving at 50 mph on the single carriageway then speeding up and flying off on the dual so he couldn't be over taken. My own car was misbehaving too, for some reason the indicators kept switching themselves on but this was rectified by some heavy handedness and bad language. Eventually I arrived at my destination unscathed and was met with another obstacle, the trailer was stuck in the mud. After a load more cursing, grunting, brute force and sweat the boat was in the water and cutting through the waves of my favourite place once again.

This year I've made up my mind that when conditions are good and I have time I will put in maximum effort. In this case I have two days without responsibilities so I'll be spending both days fishing and sleeping in the boat in between. This will be the way I go about things while the weather is still relatively comfortable. I've also decided that there are plenty of areas in the system where I haven't yet wet a line so it's high time I searched out ne water.

By 0730 I was anchored up and four deadbaits were spread around the boat carefully, in an effort to maximise any scent trail that would be seeping from them. The day was mild and mostly cloudy with a moderate southerly wind. I sat back and smiled, the pain in my back had abated, I was back in the land of big skies, reeds and water. I had a plan for the day; I intended to spend no more than ninety minutes in any area if no fish showed themselves. That's exactly how the day panned out, I kept on moving, searching and working. I fished two spots in the vicinity of “The Stump” area. This is one of my favourite spots and one where I've caught a lot of fish but I wonder if this is a self fulfilling prophecy? Whatever, there were a few baitfish of some variety topping in this area but no Pike moved to my baits. During this time the sky had become more gloomy and had been spitting drizzle at me from time to time. My bad back had woken up again and was giving me more grief.

Next stop was an area I've rarely fished but one I intend to visit more frequently in future. Not far from the “Stump” as it happens, the entrance to a bay just has to be worth a go surely? Maybe but not today so after 90 minutes here I was on the move again, passing through the gap and into the bay. Another fishless ninety minutes passed but was brightened up by a fry up. Time was passing by now, the whole area seemed devoid of Pike so it was high time I upped sticks and left for pastures new.

I passed anglers catching skimmers at one spot and carried on for a look around another area that was relatively new to me. By 1545 I was anchored with the regulation four rods covering two bays and open water. I've rarely fished this area over the years and this is something I will be putting right as I know it's a good area at certain times of year. However I just didn't feel confident or comfortable and I wasn't going to be happy here. I had to make a move and there were two destinations in mind. Both involved a bit of a journey on the engine but both were appealing in their own way. Eventually the choice was made, for better or for worse and off I went through dark skies and drizzle.

I fancied heading over to one area in particular but on arrival I noticed a boat already sitting in the vicinity. I settled for fishing on the corner of a bay, tucked into the reeds. I've fished this spot before and although I've never done any good it feels right and I felt I had a good chance in the hours ahead. One thing Rich and I have learned is that this area definitely produces at this time of year and I think this may be due to Pike migrating here from other parts of the system. I felt confident that I'd put my self in a position to intercept any Pike moving into the area, time would tell.

Dusk deepened and I was settled and comfortable. I fished the regular four rods; a Sardine, un-weighted, was dropped into the weed to my left. I fished a Bluey and an “the evil” on the weedline plus a Mackerel in open water. Overhead a massive swarm of Geese gathered and circled almost like those massive autumn flocks of Starlings. Thousands of birds honked and squawked as they settled into the marshes to the south for the night. The other boat left the area leaving me alone for the night, lovely. I rigged up the “boat biters” and settled down in the bottom of the tub. My mark2 cuddy was fixed up and with the middle seat of the boat now removed I'm able to stretch out. It may all look a little 'Heath Robinson' compared to the flash boats I see around, but it keeps me dry and sheltered. The very definition of “crude but its effective”.
Home. Crude but effective!

Time passed, the night grew dark and the stars came out in spectacular fashion. I reduced the rods down to two and slumbered in the bottom of the boat. Sleeping yes but waking at the slightest strange noise or movement of the boat. I suppose I'm lucky that when I'm relaxed (i.e. any time except the night before a fishing trip), I have the ability to drift in and out of sleep easily. I was comfortable apart from twinges of pain across my shoulder blade but able to block that out. By 1 am I was well tired so wound the rods in for a few hours of total sleep to recharge the batteries. Apart from the absence of fish, all was well in my world until around 3am. At this point the wind picked up with a bit more of an easterly influence to it and it began to rain. I was able to shut it out for a while and continue with my cat-napping but soon grew damp and uncomfortable. However with a bit of re-organisation I was sorted and able to drift back to the land of nod once more.

By 6am I was wide awake once more and back into fish hunting mode. I put fresh baits on all rods, two on the weedline and two in open water. I wanted breakfast but the bloody lighter was soggy and I just couldn't get the stove alight. Here I was, 24 hours without a fish, damp, tired, hungry, thirsty and fishless. Bugger!!! I eventually managed to get a flame and get my sausage and bacon on the go. After breakfast I got the kettle on to fill the flask up. This procedure was interrupted by a whirring bait runner, the Smelt in open water had been picked up, a take at last! Pandemonium in the boat, stove switched off, I picked the rod up and wound down quickly....only to find the bait had been dropped. The air turned blue. What was I like? 42 years old, sleeping in a bloody boat on a wet October night for the chance of a poxy fish? Why?

By 8.30am it was high time for a move, but where? I'd had a take so was loathe to go too far so opted for a short shunt about 50yds downwind, finishing up just off the entrance to a bay. I cast an Eel and a Bluey to the weedline, then a Mackerel and a Smelt were fished in open water. That dropped take had enthused me with a bit of confidence, there were fish willing to feed if I could put a bait to them. The day was grey and gloomy with drizzle blowing in on a fresh south easterly wind. Not ideal conditions but...

At 9.15 at last it happened, another take this time on Bluey. I wound down quickly and set the hooks. Yes! Fish on! My first Pike of the season from the system punched above it's weight but was quickly bundled into the net where it woke up and belatedly started to fight. Hooks were removed and a nicely marked fish of around seven pounds was admired briefly then returned. Nice one, blank saved! I recast with a fresh half a Bluey then sat back with a smile on my face, my mojo had returned, I know remembered “why”.
First of the season

Forty five minutes later I was contemplating another move when I noticed an oil slick calm the water around the float on the Bluey rod. A couple of seconds later it happened again. Had a Pike picked it up? I took the rod out of the holder to try and shake some weed off the line only to be greeted with a screaming bait runner as a Pike bolted into the bay. The bend of my rod soon stopped and turned it! This one felt a bit heavier than the first and so it proved, in the net it looked every ounce a double with a bit to spare. Nice one! The bait was still attached so went back out to the weedline once more.

Bit bigger

Another forty five minutes passed and I decided it was time to move once more, eventually settling just to the north of the bay. I spent an uneventful hour or so here watching the hunting Harriers before upping the weights and leaving the area. I went searching, fishing another 'new' area for an hour or so. A nice looking bay that I'm sure I'll visit again some time. No Pike were encountered here but a bit more learnt and stored away for the future. Next I went back onto more familiar territory. By now the sky had cleared and the wind was a fresh westerly. I was only here long enough to fry up and tidy up before heading back to the slipway. I pulled the boat out without incident, packed the car and was away. My first trip of the season was over, the cobwebs were blown away and I had a couple of fish under my belt, not a bad start. Can't wait to get back. A few days later I was back.......

Killing time

2010-09-20T15:31:00.000-07:00

Over the last few days the Angling Trust have made the decision to close their online forum after just 9 months. There reasons for doing so appear a little odd. In their statement the trust bemoans the fact that only a tiny percentage of the membership have used the forum then go on to say;

“The staff and Directors made efforts to answer questions when they became aware of them, but there were so many pages of debate to trawl through that this became impractical for the busy team. “

A bit of a contradiction I think? There is also an accusation of aggression being shown on the forum, well I haven't found any....unless they are referring to my own irreverent contributions? In my opinion the Trust's leadership is afraid of the dissent that is being shown on the forum.

I joined the Trust back in April and at the time expressed my mistrust of politics and politicians.

http://fishingsgreat.blogspot.com/2010/04/something-old-something-new.html

During the five months that have followed I have experienced nothing about the Trust that has altered this opinion. Five months on they still haven't publicly come out in support of livebaiting, despite personal assurances from the CEO Mark Lloyd that they would do this. I am certainly not alone in my dissatisfaction as members from all branches of the sport are expressing their discontent. Far from unifying angling the Trust is becoming yet another match dominated organisation and a gravy train for its paid employees. The way things stand I definitely won't be renewing my membership.

Now back to the real thing...

With summer quietly slipping into autumn and the temperature beginning to dip I've been finding it difficult to motivate myself to have another crack at the Tench in “The Marsh”. Time has not been on my side it's true but if I'd really wanted to go fishing I'd have made time. I've got Pike on my mind now and planning for the season ahead which will take up a large chunk of my free time so while the weather is still fairly comfortable I've been spending as much time as possible with the children. While we can still get out and do things together we are making the most of it. Saturday morning gave me the opportunity to do both.

The boat has been in 'dry dock' all summer while I made a few slight modifications but now it was ready to roll and high time it was back at it's winter home. We left bright and early in the morning and headed north, arriving at our destination in mid morning. With a pitch secured and fees paid we launched the boat and set off with the intention of showing the Madison and Isaac a little piece of my favourite place in the world. The weather was pleasant, mild and bright with a light breeze from the north west. After a couple of hours of motoring around including a pick nick break the kids were getting fidgety so we headed back. The place still in the green hues of summer looked beautiful, the boat is safely in place and I'm looking forward to getting started.

The second half of Saturday afternoon saw me free of responsibilities so suitably enthused I made my way down to the 'Marsh' for a few hours. I chose a swim on the eastern side, mainly because I knew it to be one of the deeper areas but also because it was on the far side to a couple of other anglers on the water. I couldn't decide what to fish for so decided to hedge my bets and go for everything. On one rod I fished a 10mm boilie, balanced with fake corn and fished on a helicopter rig. This was swung beneath an overhanging tree with about 20 free offerings thrown on top. I set up a whip, float fishing maggots in mid water while I set up another rod. On this I used a float paternoster rig and before I was finished putting it together I had some bait in the net. A nice sized Rudd livebait was dropped in open water about 15 metres out. I hoped that here suspended in deep, open water the bait would stick out like a sore thumb.

After a while I became bored of catching smallish Rudd so set up a waggler rod to replace the whip. I fished two or three maggots on the bottom and fed a handful of maggots every now and then. I hoped a Tench might find this approach too good to resist but alas no. However the average size of fish increased markedly and I caught Roach, Bream and Perch to around 12 ozs along with the inevitable Rudd.

It was a pleasant, warm afternoon. The banks surrounding this water too were in full summer green but a few leaves were beginning to fall and the lilies were yellowing and growing tatty. I had cricket on the radio, the forty over final from Lords in which Warwickshire eventually overcame poor old Somerset. It was great to be out fishing again, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed my fix of fishing.

After an hour the float on the paternoster rod dipped and slipped away, I wound down quickly and bent into a fish. I got it to the surface quickly and kept it there, bullying the fish into the edge quickly where I unhooked it in the water. My first intentionally caught Pike of the season was small but perfectly formed and beautifully marked. Another Rudd was hooked up and swung into place and I sat back with a smile. What next?

Next was about half an hour later, the boilie rod sang out then stopped abruptly.....followed by nothing. Surely that was a take? I hovered hoping it would fly off but no. A few minutes later I wound it in to find the helicopter rig had tangled...bugger! I recast with another handful of free offerings but had the feeling I'd missed my chance.

As dusk began to deepen the surface came alive with Rudd but unlike earlier in the year there were no Pike hammering into them. Of course not, I'm fishing for them! I fished on until darkness when the bats were out in force and apart from the occasional silver fish on the waggler, nothing much happened. It was good to be out fishing again though, I really hadn't realised how much I'd missed my fix. It's nearly Pike time, roll on October.

Where did summer go?

2010-08-30T13:54:00.001-07:00

Where has the summer gone? Since my trip out after Barbel I haven't seemed to have any time to wet a line. I did have one evening at “the Marsh” where the kids caught a net full of Rudd & Roach in between dodging showers. I fished a rod for Tench, a balanced boilie cast to some lily pads which produced a half hearted pull. Apart from sneaking out a few silvers on the kids rod, I blanked. Time well spent though.

Now it's the last week of August and not only is the month running out but the summer weather has vanished too. Two days of torrential rain has caused most people to get a little depressed but apart from missing most of the first day of the fourth test I've actually welcomed the downpour. Plans for the bank holiday weekend included a night session on a fenland river in search of Zander. Normally this would be a regular summer occurrence for the children and I but due to all manner of things we hadn't actually made it this year. Now we had time and for once it seemed that conditions would come right. The cricket was going well too, Trott & Broad's record breaking partnership had put England in a commanding position and who would bet on Pakistan to have the guts to fight back? Listening to TMS on the radio helped the journey pass quickly.

We arrived in the early afternoon; Madison, Isaac and nephew Ollie joined me for our long awaited night session in the fens. The river looked good, nicely coloured with a steady flow. There seemed to be far less weed than a year ago but this could have been due to a foot or so of extra water. Ollie quickly set up a whip and began fishing maggots close to the edge, I mixed a load of groundbait, laced with maggots and sweetcorn which I fed little and often throughout the afternoon and evening. The afternoon was dry and bright but a stiff westerly wind made fishing with light tackle difficult, however Ollie persevered and began catching fish regularly; Roach, Bleak, Dace, Perch and some cracking Rudd to around 8ozs. Madi and Isaac busied themselves re-discovering the meadow and playing in the tent.

With everything sorted out and comfortable I began fishing myself. I set up a cage feeder, stuffed full of ground bait and began lobbing this into the middle of the river. I catapulted about a kilo of pellets into this area along with a few pouches of sweetcorn, corn was to be the hookbait. I hoped to catch Bream as well as keep trickling bait into the swim to pull fish into the area. I soon discovered a problem however, the flood water had dislodged loads of weed and large rafts of the stuff was drifting down river and snagging my line. This was going to make Zander fishing difficult later. I had the radio with me as usual and by this time Pakistan's batting had collapsed for the umpteenth time this summer, in fact by the end of play they were following on.

The afternoon passed into evening and apart from a couple of brief showers things were comfortable. The kids were happy playing in the outdoors, not bothered with fishing so far. Ollie was filling the net with good bait and I was slowly setting up the Zander rods for later. I was interrupted by a take on the feeder rod and bent into what I assumed would be a Bream but was pleasantly surprised by a lovely golden Rudd. It was a good fish too and not being quite sure just how big I decided to weigh it,I was surprised when it tipped the scales at 1lbs 4ozs. Now I'm sure I've caught bigger Rudd than this but I've never actually weighed one so (after checking when I got home) this was actually a new PB. This was followed a short while later by another lovely Rudd which was slightly smaller.

The sky began to darken and the children were hungry so after our usual fried fishing feast I cast the Zander rods out. A paternoster rig and a running leger were baited with good sized livebaits. Ollie too had a paternoster rig baited with a lively and all three rods were placed in mid river to avoid the worst of the rooted weed. Unlike last summer this vegetation wasn't too much trouble but unfortunately the drifting green snot was a pain in the backside, collecting on the line and regularly pulling our baits out of position.

Late august and night falls quickly, Bats began zipping across the meadow and along the river, the cloud thinned and the stars began to twinkle. I still felt we had a good chance of catching Zander as long as we could keep the baits in position for long enough. The youngsters grew tired and settled, giggling into their sleeping bags but Ollie sat up chatting with me. No Zander put in an appearance and with weed still making life difficult my confidence dipped. By eleven o'clock we were tired so settled back into our sleeping bags. No sooner had I got comfortable when the alarm on my paternoster rod sounded. I was quickly up and out and bent into a fish, the tell tale pulses on the rod told the story and sure enough I brought an Eel of about a pound to the net.

The rest of the night saw me cat-napping in between having to get up to strip more weed from the lines and recast. It would have been more bearable if just once when the alarm sounded it signalled a Zander but no. I couldn't just relax in the knowledge that my rigs and baits were doing what I wanted them to do. I couldn't relax so I couldn't rest either. I had plenty of time to think and came to the conclusion I just wasn't enjoying myself. I reflected that I'd be much happier fishing “the Marsh” for Tench and it wouldn't have made much difference to the children either. Visiting the Fens for our family camp-outs has been a kind of tradition and this is the sixth summer we've made the trip. The are several other quiet, pleasant places in the Fenlands where I know I can catch Zander, I need to have a good look around and find somewhere child-friendly before next summer.

I must have dozed off in the early hours as I came round at about 6am it was daylight, well kind of. Heavy cloud, gloomy skies and the westerly wind was even stronger than the previous day. I recast the Zander rods and lay back again without enthusiasm. After a couple of hours spent dozing the kids awoke and demanded breakfast so after a good healthy fry up I began to slowly tidy up our camp while Ollie tried to catch a few more fish. The clouds threatened rain and the wind made holding a rod difficult. My heart just wasn't in it, I wanted to go home which is incredibly rare for me whilst fishing.

Next summer we definitely need a new setting for our summer adventures. Madison and Isaac had a last scamper around the meadow then it was time to load the car and head for home. Switching on the radio I was astounded to hear the latest sorry tale of woe surrounding Pakistani cricket, sadly that one isn't going away.

Monday evening and I still had the itch to get out fishing so I grabbed a net and a lure rod and dragged Shelley out for a walk, to work off the Lasagne we'd just devoured. We started off along the river which was still weed choked despite last week's flood water. This led us to a couple of uninspiring stillwaters where I tried my luck with jigs and spinnerbaits. All the places I cast had one thing in common, no sign of a fish of any kind. Oh well. I don't fish close to home very often and this evening I reminded myself why. We were treated to the sites and sounds of the countryside; a kingfisher, a Heron, rabbits in the meadows and as darkness fell the sky filled with bats.

So that's August all but done and isn't September officially the start of Autumn? The next few weeks will be spent making sure my boat and kit is all ready for the start of the "Pike season". Over the passed six months I've caught thirteen different species of fish but for the next six I'll mostly be concentrating on just the one.

Wise words

2010-08-24T13:36:00.000-07:00

Have a read of this; http://blog.lumbland.co.uk/2010/08/storm-in-teapot.html Couldn't put it better myself Dave!!

Into the west

2010-08-07T05:21:00.001-07:00

Life is too short for work. With all the other stuff going on I just don't have time for work! Unfortunately I have to go to work so when time is short it's the fishing that has to give. Over the last couple of weeks I've only had time for short sessions after those elusive Tench.

Sunday, with all my duties dispensed I set up in the early afternoon in hot, sunny conditions. The wind had been fresh to strong and from the south for a few days so I chose a swim on the northern bank, one I'd never fished before. I fished three rods; on the left a balanced boilie/fake corn on a helicopter rig was cast to the edge of a reed bed and baited with about fifty mixed boilies. The right hand rod was a pop up on a chod rig with a PVA bag of mixed pellets and cast to the edge of a large bed of lily pads. The third rod was my float rig on which I fished a piece of fake corn next to some lilies, this area was baited with a couple of handfuls of corn.

I sat back in the sunshine, not really expecting to catch but enjoying a few hours of peace and quiet anyway. I spent a lazy Sunday afternoon dozing in the sun, the heat was a little uncomfortable until the sun dipped beneath the trees behind me. I left the two boilie rods to fend for themselves while I concentrated on the float rod. I fed a handful of Corn every now and then and noticed that every time I did so, bubbles would erupt in the baited area of the swim. I had the odd dip on the float but no positive bites. I can only surmise that the Rudd are following the corn down to the bottom and feeding on it there, thus causing the bubbles. How many times this season have I watched these clouds of bubbles erupting, thinking they were Carp or Tench when the culprits have been shoals of Rudd? Quite a few I think! Eventually my float sailed away and I set the hook into ...a Rudd. A fish large enough to engulf a grain of fake corn but not too big to make a lovely livebait in the winter. Shortly after I packed up for the evening.

Two days later Shelley and I arrived in the evening for a couple of hours chilling out after work. I elected to fish the same swim again, wondering if any fish would visit the area after the bait I'd put out previously. It was another warm sunny evening but with the evening sun lower in the sky, nice and comfortable. I fished a balanced boilie to the reeds on my left again, scattering about twenty free offerings in the area and float fished fake corn by the pads again. I used a bit of fishmeal groundbait in this area. Shelley float fished maggots using a whip and began catching fish right from the off, Roach and Rudd of a high average size.

The evening passed too quickly, I had the odd pull on the boilie rod and I'm convinced these were Rudd picking up the bait. Shelley would have filled a keep net with silver fish averaging about 4ozs a piece. I hope these are just as catchable in the winter! I had two proper bites on my float rod landing a Rudd and a Roach, both about eight ounces, nice fish but not Tench! Once again there were loads of bubbles over my groundbait and I've become certain that shoals of silver fish were responsible for these. The Tench are hard enough to catch as it is but these Rudd are making life even more difficult now. It would be almost impossible to use traditional Tench methods here at the moment.

We stayed until it got too dark to see the floats. A nice evening, time well spent but no Tench and I was left with lots to ponder. If I want to have a nice bed of feed for the Tench/Carp/Bream to find then I'm going to have to bait up with stuff that the Rudd can't eat! Boilies will work but should I use bigger ones? Larger pellets, 8mm and over? How about the seed mix, how much of that are the Rudd eating? I probably won't find the answers to these questions this summer, hopefully I won't have forgotten the questions come spring.

It's been party time this summer, hence the lack of fishing. The last few weekends have seen two all day parties, a trip to see “the Prodigy” at Milton Keynes bowl and last week something different again. The third day of the first test match between England and Pakistan to be precise. Rich joined me on the trip to Trent bridge along with Isaac, Shantel & nephew Josh. We were treated to a brilliant days cricket; over 300 runs, 13 wickets, a century from Prior and three late wickets to set up the win. As usual a great atmosphere with a very vocal crowd and a fantastic day out. Less than twenty four hours later I was looking down at a beautiful, tranquil stretch of river and contemplating fishing once more.

The arrangements had been made a couple of weeks back, a visit to what the friendly locals call “Gods river” in search of my first ever barbel, amongst other things. Shelley and I completed a three hour drive without a hitch, arrived at the camp-site and quickly pitched the tent. The plan was to go off exploring and I had just unfolded the map when I heard “You look lost mate..” and looked up to see a grinning Steve approaching. Plans changed, we jumped in the car and followed Steve to a pub where we were due to meet up with Rob. I noticed a car driving the wrong way round the car parks one way system, “that must be Rob...” and sure enough it was. After a well earned pint of best bitter we followed again down dirt tracks until we got to the river.

My guides baited up and we sat back for an hour chilling out, chatting and catching up. The setting was beautiful; we were fishing from an old Salmon groin on a lovely stretch of river, both banks thick with trees. After a cup of tea we started fishing. The method was a feeder full of hemp and halibut pellets on a hair rig. We fished two rods and kept on recasting and trying but as dusk began to deepen nothing had disturbed us.
“What are the bites like?” I asked
“A twitch on the rod tip of about three feet” laughed Steve.
It was nice catching up with Steve and Rob and an evening well spent, sharing fishy tales and laughing a lot in beautiful surroundings. All too soon it was time to say goodbye to Steve but I arranged to meet Rob again for another try a couple of days later.
The next two days were spent mostly exploring the area by car but also on foot. Shelley and I enjoyed walking through the forest to the river valley, then climbing up again to enjoy breath taking views. The bird life was abundant and during the stay we saw a Buzzard, Red Kite and a Peregrine and also heard Tawny Owls at night. We saw Rabbits on the camp-site and heard lots of rustling in the undergrowth at night but the tent raiding Squirrels we were promised didn't put in an appearance. All this walking left us with a hearty appetite for fish and chips and we obviously needed to sample the local ales to quench our thirst.

Early evening and we met up with Rob and once again followed him off into the countryside, arriving at our destination after about twenty minutes. If the first stretch we'd fished was beautiful then this one was something else. Upstream the water tumbled over rocks then rushed past us forming eddies on both the near and far banks. At the downstream end of the swim a willow overhung the water. The far bank was lined with boulders and trees crowned the slopes. If Mr Crabtree wanted to catch Barbel he would have chosen a swim like this.

We started off using an Avon type float and trotting maggots downstream. We took it in turns to catch small Chub, Dace and Bleak whilst Rob kept feeding the swim regularly. I grew up fishing like this on my local river, ages ago when it still had some flow but it has literally been years since I've done it. Rob was hoping to get a shoal of good sized Chub feeding but they proved elusive. After an hour or so he spotted a bigger Chub in the shallows so after a few minutes I cottoned on to the fact it would be worth trotting the float through that area and began picking up slightly bigger Chub straight away. A couple of trots later I hooked into something more significant which hooped the rod over and pulled back, using the current to it's advantage. After a brief battle a nice chub of about two pounds came to the net. I'd managed to catch a proper fish from “God's river” so took a quick photo in case I didn't catch anything bigger. Rob kept feeding the swim, still maggots but also Hemp and pellets too.
Rob unimpressed with my Chub!

A couple of trots later I did hook something bigger that took line, ran past us and kept going upstream. Rob's verdict was “either a Barbel or a big Chub..” Unfortunately Rob was only half right, it was a Chub but was nicely foul hooked in the dorsal. A few more trots without success and Rob declared it was Barbel time so the float rod was replaced with two Avon rods, new style Mitchell 300 reels and feeder rigs. Methods were the same as the previous session, feeders packed with hemp, a long hooklength and Halibut pellets hair rigged. The feeders were cast across the river and allowed to swing round with the current.

We stood in the river and chatting while our eyes watched the rod tips. I was beginning to think I was destined not to catch a Barbel but at least I'd had a nice Chub and was thoroughly enjoying myself. Then it happened, something tried to pull the right hand rod into the river. The next thing I knew I had a buckling rod in my hands as a fish tried to pull me in too. For years I've read about the legendary fighting qualities of Barbel and I was not disappointed. This fish was not large and was soon in the net. Rob guessed the weight at about four pounds I was absolutely delighted! Rob was relieved, “pressure off” he declared with a chuckle.

First Barbel!

Soon after I had another rattle on the rod but struck thin air, once retrieved it was apparent that the hair rig had tangled. Oh well. I wasn't disappointed for long as the rod wrenched over and once more I was attached to a Barbel. This one didn't fight as hard as the first apart from one run across the river and was netted quickly. I was quite impressed with the new Mitchell 300 reels, the drag worked much better than the old models I'd used in the eighties. This fish was slightly bigger than the first and I took a moment to look at the beautiful bronze scaled, muscular lump of fish I'd caught. My target was one Barbel and now I had two!!!

The light faded quickly and I was struck by something obvious that I hadn't yet appreciated, this river had a voice! It tumbled and splashed over rocks, rushed and bubbled through gorges and rippled over rapids. My own local river used to have a voice until abstraction made it mute. I had one more bite, the rod yanked over again and for a second or two I was attached to a fish before it made it's escape. On winding in we found a busted hooklength most likely parted against the rocks. We took this as a sign to start tidying up and I couldn't be disappointed with two Barbel under my belt. The river, the scenery, the company, the voice and the fishing; tonight had been magic! We left the river, stopping for a quick pint on the way then it was goodbye and thanks to Rob and back to the camp-site.

The following day Shelley went off doing her own thing and I fished on my own at another nice stretch of river. I chose a swim with shallows upstream and deeper water in front of me. I began trotting corn with a chubber float on one rod and fished a bag of halibut pellets with hair rigged boilies on the other. The latter were methods I'd nicked from Dave Lumb's blog and a couple of emails from Dave had put me on the right track. After a couple of hours catching nothing with the float I decided a change was needed. I took a pair of scissors to one of the feeders I'd brought with me and soon modified it (i.e destroyed) to enable me to use hemp. I began with corn on the hook and switched to a halibut pellet after a while.

The stretch I was fishing was nice but wasn't in the same league as the swims I'd visited with Steve and Rob. I couldn't get the image of the “magic swim” out of my mind and in comparison this place just didn't inspire me with any confidence. Still it was nice to be fishing totally different methods to what I'm used to and as long as I had a bait in the water I had a chance. As it turned out there may not have been a Barbel or Chub for hundreds of yards but I enjoyed myself anyway.

After four nights under canvas we had a lazy drive home stopping off at a couple of places en route and now I'm back. So what about Barbel fishing then? Whenever I've tried something new in fishing and had a little success I've always come away full of excitement, itching to have another go and this was no exception. (Now I could easily drive for twenty minutes from home and have a crack at Barbel but that would mean stillwater Barbel. OK if you like that sort of thing but not for me. My first Barbel must come from a river.) It was great chatting to Rob & Steve and learning a little about the fish and the fishing. I loved the scenery, the river and it's voice. I really enjoyed fishing methods that I don't normally use. The bites were spectacular and the fish fought every bit as hard as I'd expected. The whole experience was everything I'd hoped for and more.

Odd

2010-07-08T14:23:00.000-07:00

Friday night I had a rare evening home alone. I just didn't have time to get out fishing before dark so made sure all the bait, food and tackle was ready for the following morning instead. After a few more odd jobs what should I do next? A bottle of wine called so I sipped happily while watching some football and spending a bit of time on the WWW. The need for debate on the Angling Trust forum seems to be falling on deaf ears (more on that at a later date I fear) but pointless waffle elsewhere threatened to get me hot under the collar. I cooled down with another glass of vino then a while later thought “there's no point in leaving that dribble in the bottom of the bottle”. I never learn.

The early morning start went out of the window and I woke up feeling distinctly rough so pottered about the house, slowly getting things ready before setting off for the lake around midday. What little wind there was came from the north west so I parked at the far end and went for a wander around the windward part of the water. A Woodpecker passed in it's dipping flight, it's light green plumage and red crest dazzling in the summer sunlight. Here there are two swims and both looked good. The second one was the one I'd fished last week, here a Carp bow waved and the surface seemed alive with Rudd. With nothing else to go on I decided to settle in here for a 24 hour session.

It took two journeys to hump all my gear from the car to the swim, by which time I was sweating and breathless. I was in no hurry to start fishing and began by having a careful plumb around the swim. Beneath the rod tips there was eighteen inches of water which gradually sloped down to eight feet beneath the overhanging trees about fifty feet out. Next I put a bit of bait out. Five cricket ball sized lumps of groundbait, laced with goodies, chucked to the overhanging tree on the right. This was topped up with about 25 free offerings – 10mm boilies. This brought a group of ducks scuttling over and made baiting up the tree to the left difficult. Here I intended to lay a carpet of seed mix but the ducks were intent on intercepting as much as possible. I quickly learnt that ducks don't like spods and after blasting them with the aforementioned article a few times they buggered off, allowing me to bait up by hand.
Bait

Next I set up two boilie rods. On the left I fished a 10mm boilie balanced with a piece of fake corn and a PVA bag full of pellets attached. On the right I replicated what had caught the Carp the previous week thinking; 'if it works for carp it'll work for Tench'. This was a chod rig and pop up boilie, once again I attached a PVA bag full of pellets and chopped boilies. On both rods I used watch leads so I could mould on a bit of groundbait if the PVA became fiddly in the night. I also set up a float rod to fish beside a small bed of lilies in front of me. I didn't use this straight away as I knew the Rudd would make life difficult and I also had a bivvy etc. to set up so wouldn't be able to give it my full attention. I realised that having baited up with a spod, I'd cast out a chod then rested my rod on a pod. How odd? Oh God! Stop!!!!! Who comes up with these names? BTW Yes I have a pod, it's cheap cheerful and just the job for the few occasions each year that I need to use it. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

I slowly got my camp organised and tuned the radio in to listen to the cricket. I whiled away the afternoon dozing in the sun and listening to the radio. England lost the match but had already won the series, any win against the Aussies is something to celebrate. There were occasional patches of bubbles appearing in the swim mostly over the right hand rod. I also had the odd bleep and tap on the rod tip, mostly on the left hand rod. As the sun began to sink in the sky I began fishing with the float rod but as expected the Rudd, trying in vain to eat the fake corn made things difficult at first.
Pod

At around 8.30 pm, having topped up the groundbait on both boilie rods; a load more seed mix to the left and five more big balls of groundbait on the right. This brought the ducks back, bloody things. I imagined them in a Chinese pan cake with some of that sweet Hoisin sauce .... I put fresh boilies on both rods with another PVA bag on the left hand rod and groundbait moulded around the lead on the right. I settled back and cooked my usual fishing fayre of sausage and bacon sandwiches and enjoyed watching the sun set. The surface was alive with Rudd and every now and then they would scatter as a feeding Pike smashed into them spectacularly. I had an urge to put a livebait out but no, that can wait...

At 10pm I could still clearly see the float and the first bats of the night were swooping low. The Rudd were still topping but the Pike were fed and settled. The bird song slowly diminished and the drone of distant traffic could now be heard. At 10.25 bubbles began to appear over the left hand rod. It had gotten too dark for the float now so I wound it in. A few minutes later I had a twitchy pull on the left hand rod signalled by five or six bleeps on the alarm. Ten minutes later I had a repeat and struck thin air. I was sure this was take and not a liner as I was using back leads to pin everything down. At around 11pm I tried to settle down in the bivvy for a bit of shut eye but the pulls on the left hand rod continued. Eventually I tightened the line up and fished the bobbin right up close to the rod. I figured the fish I was after would hook themselves and give me a positive bite which would rouse me from the bivvy. I suspected Rudd were responsible for these little pulls and taps and just wasn't interested. This prevented any further disturbance and I was able to get some rest for a while.

The dark hours passed uneventfully, except for the odd bleep on the alarms which shocked me awake and had me bolt upright, heart pounding. Then I would gradually regain my comfortable resting position and resume dozing. However at 3.15am, with the hint of a new dawn in the sky. Incessant bleeping on the left hand rod roused me again and I staggered out of the bivvy. I gradually woke up finding myself attached to a fish with a bit of weight but no real fighting power. I soon dragged it into the net but wasn't sure what I'd caught. I suspected a Bream but it could be a monster Rudd?? It was a Bream. This was interesting, my first of the species from the water and the first I'd heard of. I'd assumed there weren't any in here but I was obviously wrong, another vital link in the food chain, interesting. This Bream was not particularly huge but had it been daylight I'd have weighed it. However it was dark, I was tired and I couldn't be arsed. The Bream was returned, the rod re-baited and recast then I returned to the bivvy and to slumber.
Bream

At 5.30 am I was up again. I re-baited both rods and topped up both spots with a bit more groundbait. I tried to get the float rod out again but was thwarted by a duck swimming into the line and then deciding to take flight. The duck was unharmed but my float ended up in a tree. Having retrieved this situation and tackling up again a tree got in the way of my cast and I had to do it all again. Eventually I got everything sorted. This morning seemed quiet, there were fewer Rudd around and although I caught a couple on the float rod they weren't the pain that they can be. There was very little bubbling today either, as much as this phenomenon can be frustrating it kind of gives me confidence that fish are around at least. Around 7am I was contemplating another hours shut eye when a load of fizz around the right hand rod caught my attention. Nothing happened so fifteen minutes later I wound the float rod in, turned up the alarms and crashed out in the bivvy once more.

By mid morning I was awake again but had had enough. I slowly packed up and lugged the gear back to the car. The trip had been disappointing from the fishing point of view but my mind really needed to switch off and to lose myself by the waterside had been wonderful. I felt both relaxed and refreshed. It's high summer now so I don't know how much time I'll be able to spend at 'The Marsh' over the next few weeks, probably not as much as I'd like. I suppose I've done nothing to lose my crown as the “world's worst Tench angler” but at least I've caught one. From what I've heard this must be one of the smaller Tench in the lake but still a big fish to me. All together I've caught seven different species from the Marsh and more importantly thoroughly enjoyed myself fishing this little tranquil oasis set amidst a world of madness. I have other priorities for now but I'll be back!

Summer at last

2010-06-30T13:50:00.000-07:00

The evening following the capture of that first Tench of the season, Shelley and I popped down to the lake for a short evening session. We had the place to ourselves again so I dropped into the same swim again. I hurriedly spodded out a bit of seed mix to the edge of the pads before dropping a pop up boilie on top along with about 20 free offerings catapulted out. On a second rod I float fished pop up fake corn in front of the reeds again, well I would wouldn't I? Groundbait here was a handful of seed mix thrown beside the float with every cast. It was a beautiful summer evening with a light breeze from the south east and we sat sipping tea, chatting and enjoying the peace and quiet.

Shelley was fishing a whip, baited with maggots but the evening was quiet fish wise. The Rudd shoals were conspicuous by their absence but the odd Carp was showing by the lilies, no sign of any Tench though. As the sun began to dip Shelley's first bite resulted in a nice Roach of about 8ozs and from then on the Rudd moved in giving her a bite a chuck. I had a few Rudd on my float rod but after one or two these nothing more than annoyance, taking my bait on the drop so regularly I couldn't settle my float in position over the bait I'd chucked in. By ten o'clock I could still see my float but the Rudd were becoming a pain and the temperature had dropped below the comfortable in our shady swim so we packed up and head home.

The week that followed was glorious, very hot with clear sunny skies which is all very nice if you don't want the Tench to spawn just yet. However as I arrived at the lake at 5am for another short session I was sure they must have done just that and would be considerably lighter than they had been a week ago. I chose a swim on the southern bank for three reasons; firstly it was one I'd never fished before and secondly I'd read that Tench like to spawn amongst the roots of willow trees. The trees around me weren't willows, oh well... The third reason was I'd dreamt about fishing this spot the previous night, well you never know...

On my tramp through the swamp to reach the swim I disturbed a Jay which departed through the woods and announced my arrival by making a right old racket that sounded like a car alarm on a still night. Its shrill cries rang out sounding oh so loud despite the almost constant chatter of birdlife. I arrived at the swim and it looked good, nice overhanging trees on both sides and a small bed of lilies in the middle. On the left I laid a carpet of seed mix beside the tree and fished a 10mm boilie balanced with a bit of fake corn. I also chucked in a few boilies as free offerings. To the tree on the right I used the chod rig with a PVA bag full of pellets and a pop up boilie as bait. I chucked about thirty free offerings here too. In the middle, at close range I float fished a piece of fake corn and used some more seed mix as groundbait.

Within minutes the bubbling started, first over the right hand rod and then the left. Following my experiences fishing 'The Cauldron' I tried hard to ignore this but it had to be a good sign surely? By 6.15 I had activity all over the swim. There was loads of fizz over the right hand rod, the float was misbehaving as Rudd tried unsuccessfully to eat the fake corn and despite the line being pinned to the lake bed by back leads I was getting short pulls and taps on the tip of the left hand rod. Things looked really good and I couldn't help feeling confident but I have been here before...

Ten minutes later I saw a strange disturbance of water amongst the overhanging trees to my right. This was followed by a trail of bubbles moving quickly towards me, past me and away into the overhanging trees to my left. I've seen this before at other venues so I was 99% sure what was going on. I continued to watch the water to my left and sure enough an Otter popped his head out and slowly rolled back under again. This is the first Otter I've seen in this part of the world, a beautiful sight that I should feel privileged to have witnessed. Fantastic if you're a wildlife fanatic but as an angler I can't help fearing for the fish stocks. I sat back in my chair and scanned the water which now seemed devoid of life, surely my chances of catching anything were long gone now?

At 6.35am I had a proper take on the right hand rod baited with a pop up boilie and bent into a proper fish. Obviously a good sized Tench moving with power and pace now that it was free of spawn! No, it was a Carp. With the methods I'm currently using I suppose it was inevitable that I'd connect with one eventually but the thought hadn't entered my head until it rolled in front of me showing off its golden mirror scales. It gave a good account of itself on a short line but not being a Carp angler I like to bend my rods and soon had it in the net. It was a strange looking specimen, short & podgy, a bit like me? I know many people rave about Carp but I could never describe this particular fish as a thing of beauty despite the pretty scale pattern.

Twenty five years ago I did a lot of Carp fishing, back then 'forties' were still a fish of a lifetime and we had to drive for an hour to have a chance at catching a 'twenty'. Twenty five years ago a fish of this size would have well and truly made my day. Nowadays match anglers often land bigger fish on a pole and this fish would not even be worth mentioning in a conversation between 'proper' Carp anglers. I grew to dislike what 'Carp fishing' became through the nineties and beyond but I've discovered that I still like fishing for Carp, if that makes sense? Here at the Marsh I just enjoy catching whatever comes along and I thoroughly enjoyed catching this Carp which may well be the first of many. However, I would have been blown away with a Tench of the same weight!

With the rod cast back out and everything back to near normal the swim looked like it could yield me another fish or two. There was still bubbling by the tree on the right, sharp pulls on the left hand rod and Rudd were still trying to eat the plastic corn on the float rod. A 'fish', maybe a Carp or possibly a Tench rolled close to the float but didn't pick any of my baits up. As the sun grew higher and the day got hotter so the bubbling fizzled out and fish activity dwindled away. Even so with the banks beautiful in full summer bloom and framed by the trees all around me the lake looked an absolute picture. It didn't look like I was going to catch anything else but packing away just before 9am was still a wrench.

Fathers Day

2010-06-20T12:57:00.000-07:00

I had another early morning, mad dash, short session in the swim I have now christened “The Cauldron” due to the amount of bubbles that are always breaking surface. Unfortunately it was a repeat of the previous few visits. I fished the overhanging bushes opposite with a pop up boilie and the margins with a method feeder & balanced boilie/fake corn. Once again the surface of the swim resembled a shaken lemonade bottle as bubbles erupted here there and everywhere, including over and around my baits. This morning I didn't have a bite, not even a daft Pike! I have never fished anywhere, for any species where there is so much activity from fish and failed to catch. I left tired and frustrated vowing not to fish the swim again if I could avoid it!

Over the past few weeks my Tench methods have evolved considerably. I started off by thinking it might be easy, float fish amongst the lilies and chuck a maggot feeder down the marginal shelf, that'll do the job surely? I wanted to use 'traditional' methods for catching Tench but as the weeks have passed by fishlessly I have found myself reverting to the methods that have caught me most Tench in the past. In the early eighties I learnt to catch Tench by float fishing Bread flake or sweetcorn amongst the lily pads but over the years I've caught far more, either by accident or design, using what should really be called carp tactics. Boilies, bolt rigs, PVA bags, method feeders and it's to these methods I find myself reverting. It's a confidence thing, I'm going back to using the tactics that have worked for me in the past. I've made a bit of a change in baits too. The pellets have been replaced by a seed mix and I've splashed out on some proper 10mm boilies from a real bait maker. The groundbait has a twist too with an old favourite special ingredient X added to the mix. With the weekend approaching I felt confident I had the methods and bait to fool a Tench.

The kids mother had informed me that the youngsters wanted to spend 'Fathers day' with me. That's fine by me; “what do you fancy doing?” I asked them. “don't know Dad, it's up to you” they say. “Fancy going night fishing?” I tentatively suggest. “Great idea Dad!!” comes the reply. So that's that then!

There is one swim on 'The Marsh' that is perfect for our requirements. It's dry, has plenty of room for a bivvy or tent, a nice big bed of lilies opposite for me to position a couple of Tench baits and very little marginal weed for the kids to snag their gear in. It happens to be one of the most popular parts of the lake so the chances of us finding it free on a Saturday evening were minimal. Work couldn't pass quickly enough but by 1830 Isaac, Madison and I were pulling into an empty car park. Not only was that swim I fancied free but we had the lake to ourselves as well! We set about unloading the car on a gloomy evening with a fresh northerly wind and threatening clouds. Before touching the fishing gear I quickly erected their tent so I could get them settled and comfortable so any showers that happened to dump on us wouldn't spoil things. This was achieved and thankfully what rainfall we had was light and brief, the kids were able to explore their surroundings while I got my stuff ready.

Before I rigged up the Tench rods I done something I thought I'd never, ever do; I used a spod. After discussing things with one of my Carp fishing pals I'd been convinced these ridiculously named lumps of plastic are not sold in adult shops but are just the job for baiting up. Half an hour later I'd come to the conclusion that the whole procedure was tedious and labourious but I had to admit I'd managed to put about two kilos of seed mix, maggots and casters out accurately and effectively. Maybe I should get a bigger spod? Now for the Tench rods; I fished a helicopter rig baited with a 10mm boilie, balanced with a bit of fake corn and cast this right on top of the baited area. The other rod was the chod rig and a 15mm pop up cast just out of the baited area. On both rods I used “Grippa” type leads with a lump of groundbait moulded around it. By this time Madison & Isaac had grown tired of whipping in Rudd and demanded supper so with everything ready for the night out came the stove for sausage and bacon sandwiches.

The sun slipped beneath the horizon and the sky gradually darkened. The kids and I crept up to the car park for a minute or two to watch the rabbits scampering about in the field then we settled back into our chairs to watch the aerial display put on by hundreds of bats. I set up a float rod, baited with a piece of fake corn popped up a couple of inches off bottom. This was fished a rod length out and to the right in front of a bed of Norfolk reeds. The float dipped a couple of times but on both occasions Rudd were the culprits. The children retired to their sleeping bags and when it became too dark to see the float, so did I. I lay back feeling confident, I'd put a nice bed of Tench food out, positioned nicely on the corner of a large bed of lily pads. I had two good baits fished on rigs that gave me confidence, surely tonight would be the night?

I slept easily but was awoken by the occasional bleep occurring on both rods, unfortunately nothing developed on either. At 4am I awoke to find the sky was light enough to make recasting easy so put two fresh baits out and topped the swim up with around twenty more boilies before climbing back into the kip bag. Why hadn't I caught? At 7.30am I was awake again and asking myself the same question. The children were awake now too so the three of us emerged from the tent. Once again I re-baited and recast both rods then set the kids up with the whip. I sneaked my float rod out too, just round the corner in front of the reeds and out of the way. Two palm sized balls of groundbait joined it along with a couple of handfuls of red maggots and the last of the casters. A fish rolled over my baited area by the lilies, almost certainly a Tench and bubbles broke surface, maybe I still had a chance? The kids amused themselves with the whip, taking it in turns to catch Perch, Roach and the inevitable Rudd while I busied myself with breakfast. We all enjoyed a nice cup of tea while the sausage and bacon sizzled.

I kept an eye on the float and noticed bubbles in the vicinity but I've seen this so many times here lately that I hardly paid it a second thought. At around 8.30am the float rose slightly then began to slide away. I was expecting yet another bloody Rudd and for a few moments that is what I thought I'd hooked, a Rudd but a good 'un. However the rod hooped over and stayed bent! I was attached to something half decent that took a few moments to realise it was hooked. The fight was unspectacular apart from a few deep boils, It dawned on me that I was actually into a Tench but at first thought it must be fairly small. The longer things went on the bigger the fish seemed, especially when it tried to get into the marginal reeds. Surely I wasn't going to actually catch it? I drew it over the net and “YES!!” It, or should I say 'she', was mine. A beautiful dark green fish, full to bursting with spawn. Would she be a PB? No she wasn't but only a couple of ounces under. That'll do for me!

We resumed our postponed breakfast. I re-baited all three rods and carried on fishing for a couple of hours more but no other Tench took pity on me. At long last I've broken my duck with the Tench from 'The Marsh'. I'd spent all week plotting & planning the fishes downfall on my boilie rods then go and catch one on the float which I'd chucked out as an after thought! We packed away the camping gear then tidied up the fishing tackle before taking a slow stroll around the lake. First through the trees where Isaac carved a path through the stinging nettles with his light sabre. Then we sploshed through the marshy bog and walked on through the field to complete our circuit. “Happy fathers day!” said Madison. “Have you had fun?” asked Isaac. “Too right I have!”

Agony, Irony and the law of sod

2010-06-08T14:18:00.000-07:00

31/05/10

Saturday morning was dull, damp and 'orrible but I managed to drag myself out of bed and get down to the Lake before 5am. Once again I was on a tight time schedule and I didn't have to spend much time making my mind up where to fish. This was due to the fact that four over night anglers were already bivvied up leaving me with little choice anyway. I ended up in a swim on the eastern bank, sitting right in the teeth of the fresh westerly wind whipping drizzle in at me. I'd not fished here before but knew from a trip I'd spent chucking a lure around that on my left was a relatively shallow slope leading away from a bed of Norfolk reeds. On the right was deeper water with the occasional patch of lily pads and here I cast the chod rig with a strawberry pop up and a PVA bag full of mixed pellets. This I topped up with five pouches of pellets, the bait kept on a fairly tight spot. On my other rod I fished a maggot feeder, filled with loads of little red wriggly things and the hook baited with fake maggots as well as the real thing. I made a line of groundbait going down the slope, consisting of the green Lake Wizard stuff topped up with lots of free offerings and goodies. My traps were set, now it was just a case of braving the elements and waiting.

I began getting pulls on the maggot feeder straight away, a procession of Rudd hooked themselves. It didn't take very long before I was becoming fed up with this but thankfully the Rudd attention soon died down. It was hard to stay comfortable in the cool, damp, dreary conditions but I was cheered to see a bit of bubbling in the vicinity of my maggot feeder rod. Maybe the Rudd had been pushed away from the area by larger fish moving in? I'd become used to seeing patches of fishy bubbling around my baits and absolutely nothing happening so was hardly on the edge of my seat as the amount of bubbling increased. Nothing was going to happen was it? No sooner had the thought entered my head than the alarm shrieked and the bobbin smacked into the butt! The strike resulted in yet another Rudd...

Half an hour later and I was fed up with the bloody things so took the drastic measure of swapping rods. The chod rig was cast on the slope in front of the reeds and the maggot feeder dropped in the deeper water to my right. The drizzle eased and the sky brightened, things got more relaxing and comfortable but fishing wise, absolutely nothing happened. Not a blip. I actually began to miss the attentions of the Rudd! As all the action had occurred to the left of the swim I decided to put both baits in this area. I managed one more Rudd before time run out and for once I wasn't unhappy to be packing up.

Now I'm used to 'not catching' Tench but this is becoming beyond a joke. All my methods and tactics have gone round in circles and I've pretty much ended up back where I began, albeit with a few refinements. I want to use what would be known as 'traditional' Tench methods as opposed to scaled down Carp tactics but it's the latter that has worked best for me in the past and its to these methods I seem to be returning. What throws me is the silt, this limits the methods I feel confident using but should I just ignore it? About 25 years ago I fished a very silty water for Carp and here I did just that, I ignored the silt and my baits frequently came back smelling of shite yet I still caught carp. However I seem to remember catch rates improved once we discovered “pop ups”. Then there's the bait. Should I continue with the pellet and groundbait approaches that have worked for me in the past or go for chucking a loads of seeds out? Maybe this is all just bollocks and I'm not catching anything because it's a deep lake and the fish just haven't woken up yet. After all, no-one else seems to be catching either. What the hell, I'm enjoying fishing a beautiful lake and despite everything loving the challenge.

05/06/10

Back to 'the Marsh' again, this time I had company in the shape of my son Isaac and nephew Oliver. I managed to get the boys out of their beds fairly early and by 6.15 am we were surveying the lake. The sky was clear, the sun was already shining brightly and it was getting hotter by the minute. By 0630 we were settled in fishing a swim on the north eastern side. I put two rods out for the Tench, baiting an area beneath an over hanging tree, positioning a feeder and popped up maggots at the top of the slope and a popped up boilie at the bottom. These were pretty much left to fish for themselves as I was going to be busy this morning!

The main purpose for being there was to hopefully help the boys catch a few fish and soon both were float fishing maggots in front of the marginal lily pads. It didn't take very long before both were catching Rudd, a bite a chuck with fish up to about 6ozs. I now had a full time job, unhooking fish, untangling lines and tying on new hooks as both lads developed a knack for snagging the lilies. I didn't feel I had much chance on the Tench rods but otherwise all was going well, that was until a Pike put in an appearance.

Normally I welcome the attentions of predatory fish but today this one was proving to be a pain in the back side, literally grabbing every single fish the boys attempted to land. Some they managed to get in, minus a few scales but others were engulfed and lost, hook and all as the Pike made hay. There was only one option so I rigged up a free roving float rig with a wire trace, now all we needed was a bait and hopefully the Pike would learn to avoid the area for a while. The problem now was thanks to the Pike the Rudd were now proving elusive but eventually one succumbed, was mounted on the trace and swung out into the danger zone. It didn't take long for the Pike to home in, the float buried and ploughed towards the pads. I set the hook then handed the rod to Oliver who was now playing his first ever Pike. Ollie was surprised by the strength of the fish but soon steered an immaculate looking fish of about five pounds into the net.

After that the day was an anti-climax. The sun rose higher, the temperature soared and the Rudd never returned in any kind of numbers. I kept catapulting a few chum mixers out to see if I could interest any Carp but apart from one small fish that stuck its head out, nothing doing. We kept going with a couple of fry ups but by early afternoon we were all hot and tired so decided to call it a day.

The following morning I was back again, I had the place to myself so after a quick look around settled into what has become my favourite swim on the lake, I always feel confident here despite never actually catching anything. By 5.45 I was float fishing sweetcorn in the margins and had an open end feeder baited with fake corn and maggots at the bottom of the shelf. I trickled in groundbait, pellets, corn and maggots, little and often throughout the morning. It was a dull muggy morning and with bubbles popping up in the swim I felt confident.

By 6.30am my swim was a mass of bubbles, not the classic Tench fish but big patches of bubbles breaking out here and there. They may have been caused by Carp but I was convinced they were being made by fish of some description. Today was going to be the day! The float dipped but I hesitated, it just didn't look or feel right and I didn't want to spook the fish. The float settled again, had I missed my chance? I kept recasting the feeder rod but after ninety minutes without a touch I rang the changes and switched to a maggot clip and a big wriggling mass of the things popped up, irresistible? An easterly breeze sprang up rippling the surface and the sun poked through the clouds every now and then. At 7.40 I had a “proper” bite on the float and struck into thin air, bugger!

As time passed still great clouds of bubbles broke out around the swim, fish were definitely about so why wasn't I catching? I switched the feeder rod for a pop up boilie, scattering a few free offerings around, would this do the trick? Every now and then bubbles would break out right beside my float or above the boilie rod. I began getting tentative dips and lifts on the float but struck at very few, each time connecting with sweet FA. It's ironic, the float would move and I would tense, ready for the inevitable sail away bite that never came. The second I relaxed again another slight dip on the float. The trouble is I just can't concentrate, I'd never make a matchman. My gaze keeps wandering, there's just too much to look at. This reminded me of something that I've always known. I'm hopeless at float fishing! Still fish moved about the swim and still I failed to register any positive bites. This was a situation I knew only too well when I used to do a lot of Carp fishing, I'd have fish in my swim but just couldn't catch them! Highly frustrating but in this case, strangely addictive.

By 11.30 I was tired and hungry and the fish activity had decreased markedly so I packed up. I had a totally free day so resolved to return in the evening. Before doing so I spread about a kilo of pellets around the swim and retreated pondering how to tackle the bloody fish later!

The biggest obstacle when you've baited a swim up is the possibility that someone else will set up in your place so on returning I breathed a big sigh of relief when I found the car park empty. I began carrying my gear down the path and noticed a rabbit carcass I'd seen earlier had moved. Strange...scavengers? At the bottom of the path I found a push bike and saw two teenagers, the only anglers on the lake sitting in my baited swim. Bugger!! I half heartedly set up in the swim next door while I waited for them to bugger off. Two hours later at 7 o'clock with storm clouds gathering they departed with a smile and a “good luck” and I was able to move in, getting settled just before the heavens opened.

I fished two rods while it was raining, a pop up boilie and PVA bag was cast across the bay to an overhanging tree and the feeder rod was dropped close in on top of the baited area. When the rain finally stopped I put a float rod out too and sat back enjoying the solitude as the light faded. There was a bit of bubbling going on but much less activity than the morning. At 8.30 a Carp angler I'd met before arrived and after a quick chat started setting up nearby. After about fifteen minutes I heard a cry for help and wandered over to see him with a bent rod, he was into a fish already! After a few minutes I happily netted a cracking Common of twenty one pounds for him. He was delighted and I just found it hilarious, fishing is great! As the light faded I packed up and left him to it, I was down but not out.

Like a glutton for punishment I returned the following evening for a couple of hours with Shelley for company. This time I decided to just chuck a couple of rods out and leave them to fish for themselves. Once again the pop up boilie and PVA bag combination was cast across to the tree and on the other rod I fished another boilie close in. groundbait consisted of a few free boilies and on the close rod a few handfuls of mixed pellets. Then we sat back chatting, dodging showers and enjoying the tranquillity of the beautiful lake. For some reason I felt confident that tonight I was going to catch something.

At 8.30 pm it happened, the alarm on the rod cast to the tree signalled a steady take and I bent into a fish. It wasn't huge, definitely not a Carp so surely it had to be a Tench? It came in much easier than I expected so obviously not a big fish but that didn't matter! I caught a flash of green in the dull light and prepared the net. I drew it to the surface....another bloody Pike!!! I just laughed out loud and to add insult to injury it bit through the hooklength just short of the net.

An hour later we were in the car, both still giggling about my lack of luck. I have plenty to think about and will be back soon for another go. Bloody Tench!

Spawn

2010-05-27T14:17:00.000-07:00

It was Saturday evening and I just couldn't decide whether or not to fish the following morning. This gave me a perfect excuse to drag the family out for a walk around the Marsh. After a hot day it was just cool enough to be comfortable as we left the car and headed down to the lake. The first part of our walk was through woodland which in the kids imagination became a tropical rainforest full of Tigers, Snakes and Rhinos. I don't know how the kids would fare in a real rainforest as the “dangerous” stinging nettles were a real challenge to them. In their imaginations they were both Indiana Jones and battled bravely through the swamp and dense forest to emerge unscathed in the savannah, AKA “The bunny field”. Here they squealed with delight watching the multitudes of wild Rabbits scurrying for cover as they approached. The kids wanted to get closer but their heavy footfalls gave the game away no matter how hard they tried.

Meanwhile I was nipping in and out of the various swims we passed, scanning the Lake for signs of activity. This place is usually quiet but this evening it was fairly busy, the hot weather had brought a few extra people out for the night. At first glance it seemed too busy for me and I'd half decided not to bother the following morning. I nodded to the angler bivvied up in the swim I'd fished last time out but he either didn't see or pretended not too. The next swim I passed was one I haven't yet fished and looked nice, a large bed of lilies to the right and reed beds to the left. No fish showing here tonight however. We reached the far end of our walk and as the kids strived to get ever closer to the elusive bunnies I crept into another swim for a look. I passed a couple of young Carp anglers bivvied up with enough gear for an army. They ignored my greeting...or maybe I should give them the benefit of the doubt and say they couldn't hear it above the sizzling stove? Whatever, the swim next door to them looked good, opposite me was a bed of lilies which looked the part and as I stood there Madison clumsily joined me, spooking a decent sized fish which displaced a lot of water in the margins in front of us. That was enough for me, I decided to set my alarm and have a couple of hours fishing right here, in the early morning.

We retraced our steps through the bunny field and this time I decided to give the mud and nettles a miss and steer us on a more comfortable course back to the car. We passed plenty of Rabbits, to delight of the kids, along with unidentified birds singing their hearts out in the trees. However, to Isaac's disgust there were no bats putting on an aerial display, we were a little too early for that tonight.

By 5:30 the following morning I was back, in the swim next to the slumbering Carp anglers. I quickly cast a chod rig baited with a pop up strawberry boilie and a PVA bag full of pellets across to the pads. The other rod was an open end feeder fished bolt rig style, baited with pop up fake maggots and filled with the green Lake wizard groundbait. The plan with this rod was to be vigilant and cast to any bubblers showing. If any particular area showed lots of signs of fish or the unlikely event of me actually catching a Tench then I'd put a load more bait in this area. As I tackled up I hadn't seen any bubblers so cast into open water in an area I'd seen a Tench roll before. What I had seen however was Carp, lots of Carp and they were spawning.

Throughout the session Carp were crashing in the pads opposite me, rustling the reeds beside me and swimming hurriedly by in twos and threes. It was all very showy and noisy but I suppose if you only have sex once a year you might as well make a big deal about it. Most of the fish were mid doubles but I did see a couple (or was it the same one?) that were big fish. It's almost certain that it was a Carp that Madison had spooked the previous evening.

My fishing was uneventful to day the least. I left the Chod rig in place all morning and apart from the occasional blip on the alarm nothing happened. I did see the occasional patch of fizz to my right so decided to concentrate the feeder rod here with three big balls of groundbait chucked in too. At 7.30, with an hour to go I decided to set up a float rod too, fished very close in shallow water near to where the Carp were spawning. This failed to stir any fishy interest either. At a little after eight o'clock the slumbering Carp anglers beside me awoke and began swearing at each other. They were greatly excited by the amount of Carp activity around them and were dumbfounded as to why they hadn't caught anything. Not that they talked to me of course but you could have heard them in the next county.

By 8:30 it was time for me to pack up and get away as child care duties were calling. Usually I hate packing up but today I hadn't seen a sign of any Tench today, would they be scared off by the spawning Carp? Who knows. I definitely didn't relish sitting next to the two cursing, clueless Carpers any longer so getting away wasn't too much of a wrench. Another trip has passed without the elusive Tench but the fat lady ain't singing yet!

In the absence of any fish here's another picture of the Lake, nice hey?

Resignation

2010-05-20T16:03:00.000-07:00

The weekend arrived and the kids were having a sleep over at their grandmothers house giving me an all too rare opportunity to spend a night fishing the Marsh. I spent Saturday afternoon getting stuff ready; bait, gear, food, drink... and it was early evening before Shelley and I arrived at the lake. Unfortunately there were several Carp anglers already fishing and all of the swims I'd had in mind were occupied. I had a quick chat and learned that very little had been caught of late, Carp or Tench. Either that or they're all playing their cards close. I was forced to fish the same spot where I'd spent my first trip to the lake a fortnight previously. Add to that another cool forecast with a northerly wind and I wasn't confident, not at all. In fact I was almost resigned to the fact that I wouldn't catch. That didn't matter however, I needed the break from routine, I needed the fresh air & countryside and I needed to be fishing!

After lugging the gear round it was time to get everything ready for the night. I daren't set Shelley up with the whip too soon as that would invariably mean I would be constantly unhooking fish and wouldn't be able to set anything else up. I quickly tackled up my own two rods; an open ended feeder/bolt rig, baited with maggots both fake and real was swung beneath an overhanging tree. Groundbait was a green concoction made by 'Lake Wizard' to which I'd added crushed Hemp, maggots and corn. I also chucked a few balls of groundbait in a line at right angles to the bank. This line ended at the bottom of the marginal slope and it was here that my second bait was placed. A chod rig baited with a popped up strawberry boilie and a PVA bag of mixed pellets was dropped into position. My line of groundbait (incidentally a Rod Hutchinson idea from “The Carp strikes back” published in the mid eighties) was topped up with about a kilo of mixed pellets and I was fishing.

Looks the part

I couldn't avoid setting the whip up any longer and before very long Shelley was happily hoisting in a procession of Rudd. These were swung right into my chops to be unhooked and returned while Shelley giggled. In between I managed to set the bivvy up and get everything sorted out for the night. At one point Shelley dropped a Rudd back in the water while she waited for me to unhook it, only to jump and shriek as a Pike nailed it to save me the job. Shelley gave up fishing when it became difficult to see the float, I recast and re-baited both rods around 10pm then sat back in my chair with a glass of wine. As it grew dark the sky came alive with bats, I can't ever remember seeing so many whizzing through the air. They seemed to head straight for us then veer away at the last second. Nature is pretty mind blowing at times. The temperature fell quickly and all too soon the only comfortable place to be was tucked up in the bivvy.

For over twenty years the only night fishing I have done have been in the flat, largely tree-less landscape of the Fenlands. I cannot remember the last time, or indeed if I've ever fished a lake in a wood before. Therefore the volume of the dawn chorus came as a bit of a surprise to me! Here the trees are very thick, very tall and very old. A perfect habitat for a variety of songbirds and wildfowl all of which gave a high volume performance which roused me at around 4:30 am. I staggered out of the bivvy, answered the call then recast and rebaited both rods and topped up the groundbait after a fishless night. A mist hung above the water as the sun brightened making a beautiful scene before me. However there were no Tench rolling and no signs of life in front of me so I decided to retire to the bivvy once more and rest my eyes a little longer.

By 7am the sun shone brightly and I was up and at 'em once again. I'd had a couple of liners during the dawn period, one on each rod, but no proper takes. Fresh baits again, kettle on then I sat back with a brew and tried to wake up. I looked around the lake and noticed all the Carpers seemed to be packing up. I sneaked a few Rudd out on the whip and caught a couple more, slightly bigger ones on the feeder rod but despite the occasional patch of bubbles the Tench weren't playing. It's disconcerting as I'm sure fish are responsible for the fizz but they never seem to hang around my baited areas for long. Soon Shelley woke up, we enjoyed breakfast and the early morning sun before starting to slowly tidy away the gear. While doing so I had a proper take on the feeder rod at long last. I dropped what I was doing and for the first time this spring I bent into a fish that pulled back. Surely this was my first Tench of the year?.............It's very rare that I'm disappointed to see a Pike on the end of my line but...I could see a nice sized Rudd in the fishes' mouth and when this was shaken out somehow my hook remained attached to the Pike. I was determined to land the bloody thing and duly christened my new landing net (courtesy of DLST, see link at the side) despite it biting off the feeder link and eventually trashing the hooklength as I unhooked it. Although it was vividly marked the Pike was a tatty looking specimen of about two pounds that looked like it had strayed too close to a big sister at spawning time.

And that was that. Another trip passed, relaxing in lovely surroundings but I still hadn't banked a Tench. My title of 'the worlds worst Tench angler' remains intact but fishing really IS great and it's only a matter of time............

Lots of F's

2010-05-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

The alarm clock shrieked at me just before 5am and after punching it I lay back thinking “What the F...?'" I had a choice; switch it off, roll over and pretend it never happened; or get up, boil the kettle and head off to the Marsh for a short session before duty calls. Of course I chose the latter. There was a car in the car park when I pulled up and the law of sod continued to play its part as the owner was bivvied up in the swim I fancied, the one where I'd seen a Tench roll last week. No good worrying about that, the one to the right looked nice, a small lily fringed bay to my right, overhanging trees opposite and as I stood there a few bubbles broke the surface a few yards out in front. That'll do for me. The morning was overcast with drizzle and a light wind from the north, the lake was flat calm.

I tackled up quickly and dropped the maggot feeder across the bay on the edge of the lilies. I then baited this with about ten pouches of mixed pellets before tackling up a float rod. This was set to fish a piece of plastic corn in nine feet of water just in front of the lilies. I baited this with five palm sized balls of fishmeal groundbait laced with crushed hemp and corn. Actually there was a bit of a plan behind this. The other anglers I'd seen fishing the lake so far were all targeting Carp so I figured the 'old fashioned' approach of balling out a bit of groundbait might be different from the norm. A few years ago I'd done reasonably well for Tench on a gravel pit when precisely the opposite approach had worked; everyone else was struggling fishing feeders and groundbait while I was catching Tench on boilies fished with bags of pellets.

I must have woken the slumbering Carp angler as he wandered over for a quick chat. He was actually a likeable young fella but had caught nothing and seen very little. It was him that noticed some bubbles fizzing a few rod lengths beyond my float, this was a good sign and for the first time this spring I felt confident I had a Tench or two feeding in front of me. But in my haste to set up had I baited up too close to the edge? I was pondering this when the feeder rod signalled a twitchy take with the bobbin dancing and the rod tip thumping. I thought I'd missed the bite but no, a small Rudd sparkled on the end of my line. Fifteen minutes later the same rod was away again and this time the strike met with slightly more resistance, caused by a nice conditioned Perch of about half a pound. Throughout this time all the bubbling activity was away from the areas I'd baited up which I found confusing because surely the Tench are supposed to be in the weedbeds around the edge? Haven't they read the right fishing books?

Should I wait and hope the fish will find my feed or should I change plan? I decided on the latter course of action and after a quick plumb reset the float a foot deeper and put a couple of balls of groundbait further out in open water. For the next couple of hours patches of bubbles continued to fizz to the surface, I'm convinced they were caused by feeding fish and none of them were near either of my originally baited areas. There's a lesson learnt, in future I may well tackle up and get a bait in the water quickly, especially on a short session but I'll have a good look before I put any groundbait in! The feeder rod had gone quiet so I decided to move this into the area where the bubbles were showing, this time slightly further out than where the float was fishing. I wasn't here to catch Rudd or Perch anyway.

For an hour I sat watching patches of bubbles regularly fizz up in the area my baits now fished, some literally on top of my float. Anticipation turned to frustration as by eight o'clock the bubbles had all but ceased and apart from a couple of slight dips on the float I hadn't had a take. During the period of activity I'd also seen Tench roll and bubble in an area across the bay close to an overhanging tree. Half past eight was my enforced packing up time which was just as well as I doubt I could have hung on to last night's curry for much longer. No fish but plenty to think about. When I next fish this swim I have a good idea of two areas to put my baits, where fish were showing today. However I must keep an open mind, maybe when the weather warms up the Tench will be happy to come in closer and feed in shallower water? Ah fishing, it's bloody addictive!

So addictive in fact, I repeated the early morning routine the following day. This time I was so keen I was up before the alarm and at the lake a little bit earlier than before, opening the car door on another dull, damp day to hear a cuckoo in full cry. I had the lake to myself so had no hesitation in dropping into the same swim again. Having made a mental note of where the fish had been fizzing the previous morning I swung the maggot feeder into open water to the left and fished the float rig a bit further out in open water. I decided to bait this with fake maggots instead of corn, just to try something different. This latter had been changed slightly to include a much lighter float and hopefully a more sensitive set up. I only had a couple of hours before I'd be needed elsewhere but I'd much rather spend the time here than in bed.

By 5.20am I had two rods out and was sitting back with a cup of tea hoping there would be as much tench activity as I'd seen the previous morning. Over the next couple of hours there was the occasional patch of fizz but nothing like as much as before. The float dipped a few times but each time my strike connected the result was an anti climax. Once again I started off with a Roach then followed this with a succession of Rudd, why does this happen? After a while I got fed up with these so reverted back to using corn as bait. At around 7am a Tench rolled by the same overhanging tree as yesterday. I quickly tackled up the third rod and cast this across with a small pop up boilie and a bag of pellets. The cast landed perfectly and I was quite impressed with myself as I'm totally out of practice for this type of fishing.

Most of the fizzing and rolling this morning occurred near to the feeder rod. The rig was bothering me as I felt I should have picked up a fish. Every time I wound the maggot feeder in it was still half full of maggots and stinking of silt. I guessed it was embedding itself into the lake bed and not allowing the maggots to escape. Being a quick thinker it took me a couple of hours to switch to an open end feeder filled with maggot laced groundbait, which discharged it's contents without problem and left me feeling a lot more confident, yet still fish less. All too soon my time was up and I began a slow packing up of the tackle. Once again I'd had fish in front of me but had failed to catch. I could say I didn't have enough time but that would be kidding myself. Frustrating but fun. Something isn't right with the way I'm fishing at the moment, time for a re-think, it's only a matter of time before I get it right. 4-0 to the Tench, I'm battered but far from beaten. Actually I'm loving it!

Sods Law

2010-05-06T15:43:00.000-07:00

At long last I had some free time and so Shelley and I made our way down to the Marsh to spend an afternoon by the water. Typically sods law had already intervened, the first day in ages I'd been able to fish was the coldest in absolutely weeks. With my track record of (not) catching Tench it's hard to feel confident at the best of times but this sudden, drastic drop in temperature along with a biting easterly wind done little to inspire me for my first visit to a new water. What the hell, lets do it anyway, at the very least I'll learn a bit more about the place. We had a wander around before choosing a swim. I didn't see signs of anything that looked remotely like a Tench so eventually settled for a spot on the east bank that would accommodate the two of us comfortably, gave me a good view of the whole lake and importantly, was out of the worst of the bitter wind.

For once I opted for comfort and set the new bivvy up before anything else. The rain was easing but it was still cold and 'orrible so staying warm(ish) and dry was a priority today. I set a Whip up for Shelley, put a little cloudy groundbait laced with red maggots out then proceeded to begin tackling up my own gear. This was to turn out to be a very slow process as I was constantly having to stop to unhook yet another fish for Shelley. She began by catching two Roach then the Rudd moved in and it was virtually a bite a chuck.

Back to my own fishing. I laid a carpet of mixed pellets, 2 to 6mm in a variety of flavours and types, in nine feet of water under an overhanging branch to my left. I'd spent some time pondering what rig to use but after chatting to a proper Carp angler (ie. One with a brain, not a chav), earlier in the week I'd come to a decision. I was concerned about silt so took his advice and used the oddly named “Chod” rig, with a 35g feeder on the end and a 3” hooklength with a size 10 hook. Bait was two plastic floating maggots sandwiching two of the real things. This was under-armed to the baited spot and I was fishing! On the second rod I float fished a piece of plastic corn beneath the rod tip with a couple of handfuls of real corn and a bit of groundbait. Lovely, all I needed was a fish. Shelley was having no such problem and was thoroughly enjoying swinging a procession of Rudd to me so I could unhook, return them and re-bait for her. After a while we were visited by a pair of Carp anglers. They were clad entirely in real tree camo but I had no trouble seeing them. They were friendly enough but when I said I was after Tench looked at me like I had two heads. Apparently someone they knew had caught one of “about ten pounds” recently. Obviously this fish wasn't as interesting as the twenty pound Carp that inhabit the lake....

A classic float in the lilies photo, shame it was bloody freezing.

It was great to be fishing again and great to be sitting and soaking up a bit of East Anglian countryside. I saw my first Swallows, and Martins of the spring, heard my first Cuckoo but as time passed I had yet to see sign of my first Tench. Then things started to look up, the Lilies in front of me shook as something large and unseen swum through them. Beyond the overhanging tree I was casting too the odd patch of bubbles began to appear and I began to get the odd line bite on the feeder rod. I decided to clip a back lead on as if there was a fish about I definitely didn't want it spooked. Shortly after this I struck at a twitchy “take” but hit thin air. I was sure it wasn't a liner so topped the swim up with more pellets and recast. I'd hardly sat down again when that rod started singing again and this time I set the hook into something solid and fishy. There was a good weight on the line and the swim boiled yet the fish left the bottom easily. I caught a flash of green amidst another swirl, the fish felt heavy but it looked like it was coming to the net all too easily. Then there was another large, deep boil and all went slack. Well slack-ish, I retrieved a Rudd of about 6 ounces that was nicely chewed up yet still alive. The Rudd must have hooked itself only to be taken by a decent Pike, kind of ironic considering my last Pike session in March!
Yes, another rainbow pic.

After that even the liners dried up and the swim seemed dead. I set up a third rod with a bolt rig baited with plastic corn and a PVA bag of pellets. This was chucked into open water, more in hope than expectation. The afternoon turned to evening and it got colder still but we were kept going by hot tea and bacon sarnies. Shelley gave up catching fish on the whip when her total reached fifty, I caught a few myself but can't get interested in this type of fishing unless I need bait. As dusk approached the temperature fell quickly and as much as I'd enjoyed fishing again I was cold and uncomfortable and I'd had enough. Before leaving I popped into a couple of other swims for a look, checking out whether or not I could cast to various weed beds for future reference. I could hardly believe my eyes when a good sized Tench rolled in front of me, in open water of about nine feet deep. Talk about rubbing it in....

Most of the following day was spent decorating, tidying and mowing but in the evening the jobs were done and my girls were settled. All night and all day I'd been haunted by the sight of that rolling Tench and it had become too much for me. The gear was still in the car so Isaac and I headed off down to the Marsh for a couple of hours. There was a couple of cars parked up and the swim where I'd seen the fish roll was occupied by a Carper, my run of luck continues... I considered heading home again but my lad wanted to catch some fish so we headed off to the spot I'd fished the previous day. I told myself that the bait I'd put in the day before might have drawn some fish in.

That's my boy...

Isaac was soon fishing with the whip. His first fish was a Roach and this was followed by Rudd after Rudd. Exactly the same thing had happened to Shelley the day before. Her first two fish were Roach then all the rest were Rudd. Very strange, I guess the Rudd moving in on the little groundbait I put in must push the Roach away?? I put the float rod out again then took my time changing the set ups on the other two. I wasn't entirely happy with the feeder rig as to me it seemed over complicated for fishing at short range. I switched this to a paternoster set up with a short hooklength and put this back under the overhanging tree once again. By this time sods law saw the Carper in the swim I'd wanted pack up and leave. I considered moving but by the time I'd done this it would have been virtually time to leave. Instead I put a dreaded “Chod” rig on, baited with two grains of plastic corn with a PVA bag of pellets. I felt this would be a better option for fishing the open water with deeper silt. I gave this a big cast this towards the area I'd seen the Tench roll and although I can't be sure how close it landed I was pleased with the result. Isaac got bored of catching Rudd and was getting cold but I cajoled and encouraged him. We lasted till the light was fading by which time we'd both had enough.

So far it's 2-0 to the Tench but I'm a stubborn git and this only makes me more bloody minded and determined to catch a few. I've got the bug again, it's a nice place to fish and I'm enjoying myself in the peaceful surroundings. Looking forward to my next crack at those bloody Tench!

Something old, something new.

2010-04-23T16:24:00.000-07:00

Something topical. I have an intense dislike for politics and I absolutely loathe the free loading scumbags that are supposed to represent us in parliament. I cannot believe more people can't see through our political system. Every few years we get leaflets through our doors from over dressed twats that we haven't seen or heard from since the last election. We have a load of overfed, over paid tossers making promises that they have no intention of keeping. We know they won't keep the promises, they know we know but still the charade goes on. Politicians are so busy being seen to do the right thing and say the right words they fail to actually do anything constructive. None have the guts to make brave, bold decisions for fear of alienating a section of potential voters. The only ambition they have is to upset as few people as possible and get re-elected. It doesn't matter who we vote for NOTHING will change. None of the political parties represent me so I won't support them. Vote : “None of the above”. Unfortunately my limited experience of “Angling politics” pretty much mirrors the real thing.

The Angling Trust was formed in January 2009 as an amalgamation of several existing organisations with the aim of uniting Coarse, Game and Sea anglers under one political banner. There is no doubt that this is a good idea and such an organisation was long over do. I support all parts of the Trust's mission statement so I why didn't I join from day one? It all goes back to my dislike and distrust of politicians, at any level. As I said above, they have to be seen to be doing and saying the right things and they are afraid of pissing off one faction or another. At the beginning I didn't believe that the Angling trust supported me as an angler who fishes predominantly for predatory fish. The case in point here is livebaiting. If angling is to unite then the Trust has to come out and support this traditional method of catching Pike, Perch, Trout, Eels, Zander, Catfish and a host of marine fish. Recently the Birmingham Anglers Association imposed a livebait ban on its members without consultation. Here was an opportunity for the Angling Trust to front up, make a statement supporting livebaiting and gain the support of predator anglers. The trust, afraid to upset various factions within angling, chickened out.

Instead of muttering and grumbling to myself I felt the need to express my disappointment to people within the Angling Trust itself so entered into a long email dialogue lasting a couple of weeks. Evidently I wasn't alone in this as eventually I received a reply that promised me that the Angling Trust WILL come out in support of livebaiting within the next week or so. If this doesn't happen I'll make the relevant emails public so people know who the politician making false promises is. Anyway, taking this promise at face value should I join the Angling Trust? Eventually I decided I should, not just because of the livebaiting issue, the decider for me was the Trust's involvement in the Broadland dredging nightmare I wrote about last time. People who are closer to the situation than I, assure me the Trust's involvement is a big help for those of us who want to see this madness stopped.

So yes I've put my money where my mouth is and joined the Angling Trust, for one year at least. I sincerely hope that my opinion of politicians is proved wrong. I hope that I'm not disappointed by the organisation and I'm still a member this time next year, once again time will tell. Anyway, that's more than enough politics for now...

When the traditional fishing season closes the “Jobs” season commences. This period of purgatory includes torturous activities such as decorating, spring cleaning, garden tidying and other forms of masochism that I have been putting off since last June. I'm told there are people in the world who spend their free time doing such things for pleasure...but I don't believe it. Anyway I've kept my promises and 95% of my work is done, so now I am able to think about fishing once again, just in time to save my sanity.

Although I've never been terribly successful when it comes to Tench fishing, last season was a new low as I cannot remember banking a single fish. Most of this was down to my own ineptitude but it wasn't helped by me not being comfortable in my surroundings. Where I fish is as important to me as what I catch and being surrounded by cloned chavs failing to catch carp was uninspiring to say the least. This experience was actually a positive thing which fired me up to find somewhere else to fish this spring and summer. Half way through last winter, while freezing my nuts off waiting for a Pike an idea formed in my mind.

The water in question is one I've fished for Pike a few times but that was years ago and it had slipped off my radar. It occurred to me that this place might well tick the boxes, I know it holds Tench as well as the inevitable Carp and it used to hold good shoals of Bream. The water is around six acres in size, in a hollow and surrounded by trees, visually in the green colours of spring and summer it's a lovely spot. It's a syndicate water so not cheap but I don't mind paying a few quid to have peace and quiet while I'm fishing. That's another thing, the swims are well spaced out so no nosey neighbours. Yes I am an anti social git when fishing! I know what species the lake holds but I'm not too sure of the sizes they go up too. In years gone by the Bream were present in quantity with no reputation for quality, nowadays I have no idea. I asked around and the consensus tells me the Carp are few in number but grow quite large. On the Tench opinion is split, some say the place is full of huge fish, others say they are only small. I simply don't know but look forward to finding out.

So I paid my money and now I'll take my chances. The other evening I went round for a look around and took a lure rod with me, not really for catching Pike (honest!) more for checking depths and finding out a bit about the weed beds and the lake bed. The place is deeper than I remember, lilies seem prevalent close in and the bottom didn't seem as silty as I'd been told. There are beds of Norfolk reeds and fallen trees, all in all lots of character and features, the latter mostly in the margins. I'm already pondering what methods to try and where but more of that in the coming weeks. The banks are very overgrown in places and the vegetation will only get thicker as time passes. It's also very damp and boggy which gives the place a name which I will use on here; “The Marsh”. So far, so good. I like it and look forward to trying to find out a little bit about the Tench population and if the Carp, Bream or anything else pick up my baits then so be it. Watch this space...

Walking the Precipice

2010-04-02T17:29:00.000-07:00

Out of it

2010-03-22T15:38:00.000-07:00

11/03/10

Three more days before the season ends and the rivers close for fishing. Three more days of free time for me to spend on the water, fishing at my favourite place. I spend a mad evening getting the kids fed and bathed whilst sorting everything for a few days fishing in between. Where to fish? Previous experience puts a few areas in mind and temperatures that have been steadily climbing give me a bit of confidence. However, the place has been rock hard lately by all accounts so I have to be prepared for anything. I think of got a tent/cuddy/contraption sorted but only time will tell if it works? A late night, can't sleep, can't wait to get out there.

I had a take it easy morning, got the kids ready and dropped them at school. They'll be with their mother for the weekend so I have the next three days without responsibilities. All the gear, bait food etc. was ready so there was no mad rush in the morning. I left home just after nine o'clock, driving through light rain and grim clouds but thankfully milder weather. Mid week traffic meant the journey would never be rapid so I trundled along, happy to see signs of spring, masses of snowdrops growing in the woods.

I was on the water by eleven o'clock and taking a bit of a trip, with the wind (was that brown, finch sized bird a Reed Bunting? ), then against, watching a spectacular display by the Harriers along the way before I reached my destination. There were a few other boats about, well it is the last weekend of the season. I had an area in mind but one of the boats was close to it so setting up there was not an option. No problem, I dropped the weights in an area that looked the part and a spot I'd never fished before. It was mild, a nice chop, the cloud was thinning and the rain had all but stopped. Four baits spread out and I was fishing, love it!

A couple of hours later I was on the move settling in to another area where I'd found fish in the past but not this afternoon. What I was really doing was killing time until I could get into the spot I really wanted to fish. This didn't happen until dusk when the other boats left but I was soon settled with fresh baits cast and a lot of chopped bait spread over the area. A pair of Cranes flew noisily high overhead, heading for their roost? I managed to erect a cuddy of sorts. It was a short notice bodge job and looked crap, however it worked and won't take too much fine tuning to get it right in time for next season. I felt confident now, the fish had been here this time last season but has the cold weather delayed things? Time will tell.
Rich arrived and anchored up near by, setting up by torchlight. Not long after dark the cloud cleared away revealing a spectacular splash of stars. Soundtrack provided by Tawny Owls away to the north above the chatter of ducks. After dark I add extra weight and tighten right up, using bait-runners and ET boat biters to alert me to any takes. Tonight there were no takes and by midnight I'd wound the baits in and settled into my sleeping bag for a few hours sleep in the bottom of the boat.

The night was mild and I was surprisingly comfortable and woke before dawn feeling refreshed. First priority was to get four fresh baits out and put the kettle on. I had cricket on the radio too, England battering a weak Bangladesh team. There were already other boats making their way into the area but I was happy with my choice of swim. There was a splash and a swirl to my left, I looked round just in time to see the arse end of an Otter diving away from me. For the next few minutes there were more tell tale signs of Otter activity which is all very nice but it's hard to feel confident of catching when there's a large fish eating mammal around. A while later there was a strange 'shape' moving across the surface, it swam out from the reeds then seemed to change its mind and head back towards the bank. It turned out to be a water vole and I can't remember the last time I saw one of them. All very well but where were the Pike? Should I stay or should I go? I liked the area I was fishing but felt I would have caught by now if fish were about. Also there was the Otter....The options for a move were limited by the amount of other boats about, plenty of other people were out, enjoying the last weekend of the season.

Eventually I opted to move to a spot that I hadn't seen fished so far this weekend which was an area I'd had action before. Straight away it felt right and I was soon fishing four rods again with renewed confidence. I hadn't been in position long when something fishy swirled to my left, has to be a Pike? This was repeated four more times during the afternoon, these were totally different swirls to the disturbance caused by the Otter. Despite repositioning the baits, chopping & changing I couldn't get a fish to take. Oh for a livebait! On the last occasion something large made a deep swirl and displaced a lot of water, I was sure there was a big Pike in front of me. I hadn't seen or heard of anything caught during the day and with fish showing in the area the decision to stay put was easy. As the light faded I heard another splash away to my right. This one sounded different and sure enough an Otter's head popped up. Not good news and sods law saw it come closer and closer, this thing wasn't afraid of me and was quite happy to splash and bubble its way through my swim and back again.

Despite the frustrations I was loving the whole experience. With everything I needed for the weekend stowed in the boat, once I'd left the slipway I felt completely free. For a couple of days I could just do as I please and here I was, fishing my favourite place in the world, watching the sky darken and listening to the night come alive. Anchored up as I was it seemed as if the environment had just accepted me as part of the scenery and the wildlife didn't seem nervous about coming closer than normal. I've never seen Otters(s) at such close quarters before and I should have felt privileged but once I'd seen them I just wanted them to bugger off. There had been no sign of any Pike of any size since they arrived. By ten o'clock my eyes were heavy so I wound the rods in & climbed into the sleeping bag again. Was that big fish about or had the Otter scared her away? Would I have a chance in the morning?

I awoke early again, four fresh baits out and cricket tuned in on the radio. The kettle had hardly boiled when the first boats arrived. I felt confident as the day brightened, was that big fish still around? It only takes one run to make your season here, would I get that run? The answer is no. The highlight of the morning was a Bittern flying close by and once again an Otter put in an appearance. The experience had been fantastic but I knew I was beaten. I moved a couple of times, working my way back towards the slipway but fished without confidence. The weekend had finished, like the season without me getting the one I'm after. I retrieved the boat in the mid afternoon, hitched the trailer and packed everything away for a while. I was about to re-enter the normal world after two days almost completely cut off, as it turned out it took me an equal amount of time to re-adjust. The weekend had been a grueller fish wise but I'd loved every minute and would do it all again tomorrow given half a chance.

I've had some nice fish this winter but not the one I dream about. Happily good friends have done better.Roll on October.

Rain, Ice and Hangovers

2010-03-05T16:00:00.000-08:00

For once I had a little time, the kids were with their mother and I had no responsibilities for almost three full days. The previous week had been all rain but by now it was a bit milder although still far from ideal conditions. The plan was to make my way north around midday but the weather was particularly foul and I had a hangover. The previous evening had been fun, company was great, too much food, too much wine and will I ever learn? Instead I slowly and unsteadily got myself organised and set off in mid afternoon. It was still raining but not as heavily now and the north west wind was easing off.

I was on the water by 1730 and fishing, anchored securely in a sheltered spot by 1800. I put three deadbaits out fished on heavy leads with tight lines and 'boatbiters' then settled back in the boat and tried to keep myself dry. Rich was somewhere out there too and we exchanged texts, nothing doing. I sat in my boat which was extra organised awaiting developments and planning my approach for the next two days. Where should I fish tomorrow? I was still undecided, Plan A involved the longer journey and far from ideal conditions. Plan B ? Let's just see..........Also in my mind I was making modifications to the boat, next winter I need more shelter, some kind of cuddy. The rain was annoying but didn't make things too uncomfortable. It was great to be back on the system.

By 2130 I'd twitched two of the three baits back to the boat and recast again. The rain had all but stopped, the moon shone above the thick cloud and it was still a fairly light, if that's the right word? Somewhere to my left something splashed so I recast the nearest rod to where I thought the sound had come from. Could have been a bird but could have been a fish. An hour later I'd had enough so made my way carefully back to base for a late hot pasta supper before crashing out in the car.

Organised

I slept OK despite a cold night and was up early the next morning, anchored up in time to see the sun come up. Rich was back on the water too and had opted for plan A. I went for plan B and we'd keep in touch by text. I put a Mackerel and Bluey downwind and cast a popped up Pollan across. The fourth rod was a bait I hadn't used all year, codename 'the evil'. The early morning anticipation turned to 'what next?' as time ticked by. Rich wasn't doing any better so if I move, where to? I repositioned the boat once but stayed in the same general area then made a second move late in the morning. This time I left the area and stopped some way away in a part of the system I hadn't fished for a good while.
Once again I fanned out four baits then settled back, warm and comfortable in the early spring (?) sunshine. A north west wind put a good ripple on the surface and things looked good. I chilled out and watched the harriers at close quarters as they skimmed the reedline however they didn't look like they were hunting. One soared high then cartwheeled downwards again as if it were flying for the shear joy of it. This bird was joined by another and they wheeled around in what I'm guessing was some kind of courtship game. All very well but where were the Pike? Another text from Rich, nothing was happening where he was either and he was heading back for a lunch time rendezvous. As the time passed I became agitated, it wasn't happening, where next? At a little after noon whilst scanning the floats I noticed something amiss, surely one of them.....? Yes it was on the move, something had picked up 'the evil' and was running straight towards the boat. I picked up the rod and wound down a load of slack line before pulling into a fish which pulled back...for a second or two. Not a monster but needed the net and where there's one there might well be another.

Rich appeared an hour or so later and after a short move we tied the two boats together, cast a couple of rods each and settled down for a fry up. Despite pooling information, swapping ideas, theories and fishing as a team it was the first time Rich & I had been in the same place, at the same time all season. It made a nice change to have a bit of a social for a couple of hours. The blue & white team is happy this season but Rich has definitely been the leading scorer. Sunshine, sausage sarnies, hot tea but no Pike. Time for a move.

We both stayed in the same general area but set off in different directions trying to find fish. I got settled in a spot which enabled me to cover both the reeds and the open water and spread the baits around again. As the day waned the wind dropped away completely and so did my confidence, this place fishes better with a bit of chop. The flat calm surface reflected a beautiful sunset but no Pike. We left the broad just after dark without sign of a fish.

Bootiful

A drive in the car through deserted country lanes with Led Zeppelin pumping out saw two men with red faces arrive at a pub, for a couple of pints and a chat about the day ahead. It was hard going and we felt the fishing was unlikely to improve dramatically the next day. We struggled to come up with any ideas or locations that would inspired us at all. At this time of year the Pike should be on the move but the wicked winter had delayed things. Do we look for the places we'd expect to find them or chose areas where we would be likely to intercept the wanderers? Rich had driven so I had the opportunity to drink too much, will I ever learn? Obviously not. Still it knocked me out and numbed me to the cold but caused me to sleep too well as I was woken by the rising sun the following morning. I emerged from the car feeling dodgy and bewildered but was soon in the boat and after breaking ice in the dyke, out for another crack at the Pike.

I opted to fish an open water area which I felt would give me a chance of intercepting any Pike that might be wandering. A Mackerel and Bluey were fished downwind, a popped up Pollan cast upwind and 'the evil' was dropped off the back of the boat and baited with a load of chopped fish, former hook baits. The day was a repeat of the previous, bright and breezy but this time the wind came from the north. Rich was away fishing another similar spot and so far had nothing to report. At around 9.30 a float jabbed and slid away, it was the rod fishing 'the evil' again. The strike met something solid and pleasing, a nice bend in the rod. Yesterday's fish needed the net and this one needed the sladle too. Hooks out easily, a quick glance at a beautiful spotty fish in mint condition then back she went to grow bigger.

In the net!

This gave me a well needed confidence boost so I chopped a load more bait up and spread it around. Usually I move about a lot but today I decided to stay in the same general area, just repositioning the boat every now and then so I could put baits in places I hadn't previously touched. The day passed quickly, Rich was in sight but a fair way off, he kept moving and searching but couldn't find any fish. I stayed put and didn't fare any better fish wise but thoroughly enjoyed another sunny day afloat. Once again the Harriers were spectacular and for the first time this year it really did seem like spring was on its way at last.

By late afternoon the sun was beginning to dip and the temperature started to fall. I decided to call it a day and get the boat off the water and head home while it was still light. The two and a bit days had been very tough but I would have happily stayed for another two. Time is short now, just one more big effort before the season ends. Here's hoping.

Grueller

2010-02-16T15:04:00.000-08:00

Another late start and a tedious journey north through sleety, shitty weather. When's it all going to end? I'm sick and tired of scraping the car windscreen, fed up with snow, ice, sub zero temperatures and slippery roads. It's crappy fishing weather so why bother? I've answered that one before. The journey was brightened by playing Happy Mondays very loud and trying to fathom Ryder's lyrics;

“I can do tricks I can
I'm like a dog with two dicks I am
why don't you tie me to a tree
and have another cup of Typhoo tea?”

My moan of the morning is why the hell do people take the piss and risk their lives over taking on bendy single carriageway roads? Giles & I nearly copped it last winter when some idiot was in a hurry and a work mate had a nasty experience the other day. Today I witnessed more madness but thankfully it didn't end in tears.

Once again it was mid morning before I was anchored up and fishing but I didn't feel I'd missed out on a lot by not having the early morning start in these cold conditions; however I wasn't here so I'll never know. There were three other boats about, two were close to areas I fancied so I ended up fishing what has become my normal starting point over the last couple of trips. I made a pigs ear of anchoring the boat and ended up side on to the wind but it wasn't too strong and this enabled me to get a good spread of baits. Three were fished downwind, while a fourth was cast upwind towards the reeds. The plan was the same as last time out, cold weather the fish won't be moving much. Keep the baits on the move, recast regularly and twitch baits, try to put one close enough to a Pike that she won't be able to ignore it.

The morning was quiet, in fact it was so quiet I took to listening to the sounds of birds. Above the racket made by the ever present gulls I could hear a Woodpecker tapping away, the unmistakable squawk of a Pheasant and a grumpy Heron sounding like a rusty door hinge. I spent ninety minutes in the first spot before pulling up the weights and heading for 'submarine bay', an area I hadn't fished for quite some time. I cast two rods upwind into open water and two more downwind towards the reeds then made myself comfortable just before a blizzard descended. This was my first experience of fishing in such conditions from an open boat and it wasn't the most pleasant part of the day by far. Soon it passed and a weak winter sun peaked through the clouds. I was treated to the sight of a Bittern taking wing, flying across the bay and vanishing amongst the reeds opposite. This is also a spot where the Harriers are guaranteed to come close, whispering death gliding silently overhead.

Snow

As the afternoon drew on the sky was mostly cloudy. Where do I fish next? All I could do was recall places that had produced at this time of year in seasons gone by. But surely in a more 'normal' winter the Pike would have spawning on their minds by now? My third stop was uneventful fish wise. I sat enjoying a little winter sun, watching filthy grey clouds passing harmlessly by to the east. I should have known better. From nowhere the wind strengthened and veered to an easterly, bringing the clouds with it and dumping a load more sleety crap on top of me.

My final stop of the day was another hour of sunshine and sleet showers spent in the area where I'd saved the blank on my previous visit, would it work twice? In short no. I watched the sun set and and fished until the floats, twitched right back to the boat, were barely visible. I packed up with the temperature dropping quickly but by the time I'd dragged the boat out once again I was sweating. Today had been a grueller but whispers on the wind were inspirational...

Cold

2010-02-03T16:13:00.000-08:00

More bloody snow and more horrible cold frosty weather. When will it ever end? I've had more than enough of it now. Saturday evening was spent in an all you can eat Chinese buffet restaurant. After several helpings and some booze I emerged barrel shaped. After a late night and a day of cold crappy weather ahead, a visit to a local river and a spot of bank fishing was in order. No sensible person would drive sixty miles to fish from a boat on shallow waters with very little chance of a fish. Guess what I did...

By late morning I was afloat and fishing four deadbaits, lives would have been better but... There are only six weeks of the season left and I have to make the most of every opportunity to fish it, besides, I love it here and don't really want to fish anywhere else. I followed a plan of sorts; my first stop was in an area where I'd caught a few fish but not recently. For some reason I felt I had to give it a go here for an hour, just in case. An hour became ninety minutes before I moved to my second spot. This was where I'd had a couple of takes in the early afternoon last time out, a fortnight ago. The sky was clear, the day was bright and the views were beautiful. But the wind was from the north west and by Christ it was cold. I kept the baits moving, either recasting or twitching them back towards me. The thinking was; the Pike won't be moving much in this cold weather so I have to put a bait close to them. Two hours passed here before I pulled up the mudweights once again.

My final stop of the day was in an area I'd been meaning to give a try for some time but hadn't fished so far this season. I cast the four baits and settled down in the bottom of the boat, out of the wind to empty the flask and watch the sunset. Maybe I should have stayed local and fished the river? No way! I picked up the rod baited with mackerel and twitched it back towards me. Was that a tug on the line? I opened the bail arm and let out a coil of line....yes! The float was sliding off. The strike met with a fish but not the hoped for monster, a jack thrashed on the surface before being unhooked alongside the boat. A fish against the odds, that'll do for me today. I'm still managing to find a fish but not the ones I'm after.

I had planned to fish into darkness but it was bloody freezing so after another big sky sunset I fished a while longer, till I couldn't see the floats then pulled the mudweights and headed back. Ice was forming in the slipway as I retrieved the boat. The journey home was brighten by the sight of a large Deer, I'm not sure what species (maybe a Red?) but this thing was a big stag with huge antlers. He crossed the road in front of me with an air that said “I'm crossing and you're waiting” before disappearing into the trees. It may have been cold but there are some things you won't see sitting in a warm house, unless its on the TV. A small fix of countryside sets me up for another week of the routine, here's to the next time.

Persistance

2010-01-20T16:07:00.000-08:00

Dreams are very strange. This morning my alarm clock interrupted an interview I was conducting with the South African Cricket captain, Graham Smith. He was telling me how he was about to retire from cricket in order to take up a position as game keeper at an East Anglian country estate. I'm not sure how I reached this conclusion as he was speaking Afrikaans.... Dreams are very strange.

An hour in the car gave me plenty of time to think. One thing I don't understand is, when you can see oncoming car lights from literally a mile away, why do people wait until the last bloody minute to dip them? After a month of sub zero temperatures and loads of bloody snow the thaw has finally set in. The rivers I crossed on my journey north had burst their banks and the flood plains were full of water. Surely this rise in temperature will get the Pike moving? But where will they be? I've only been on the water once in the last two months until today so I have no recent experience to draw on. I will just have to go looking for them. It took a while to bail out the boat after all that horrible snow and a couple of days of heavy rain but soon I was on my way.

I decided to start in the area I'd caught a nice brace from last time out and was sitting back comfortably with four rods out and a brew in my hand in time to watch the sun rise in a clear sky. This was the mildest day in nearly a month and with a nice wind from the west conditions looked pretty good. The baits were carefully positioned around the boat and a diving Grebe gave me hope that there may be fish in the area. After an hour without sign of a fish I was pondering my next move. I had absolutely no idea where the fish had been showing up lately so all I could do was think back to where I was finding them in previous cold, mid winter spells in past seasons. With a decision made I pulled up my mud weights and motored off to a place that had produced at this time in the past. I spent almost two hours here, not because I found any Pike but because I became engrossed in listening to TMS on the radio, England lost the test match before lunch on the fourth day. A 1-1 draw in South Africa has to go down as a good result but this together with the summer's Ashes win flatters a team which still needs a lot of improvement. Unfortunately Graham Smith did not announce his retirement either.

My next stop was another place that had previously turned up a fish or two in similar circumstances. This area is a bit deeper than the norm and at times the bait fish congregate here too. I remember the first time I ever fished this spot, a passenger in Richard's boat several years ago now. Conditions were atrocious, it was freezing cold and we were battered by a blizzard and I mean horizontal snow flakes stinging our faces on a strong Northerly wind. Anybody with half an ounce of sense wouldn't have bothered but.... We had just got settled, rods out and relatively comfortable when the wind blew the boat from the mooring and we were adrift. After hastily winding the rods in I discovered my livebait had been chomped and left for dead, that was the only take of a grim but memorable day. Today was much more comfortable but not memorable for any activity from the fish.

Time was passing quickly and more than half the day had gone. Somewhere out there were some Pike and if I could put a bait close enough I was sure I could catch, but where? Two areas came to mind, I hadn't fished either for quite a while but both had turned fish up in previous Januarys. One of these also had the advantage of being quite sheltered so I headed here first, I'd give it an hour and if nothing happened I'd move on again. I cast a Lamprey towards the reeds, a Bluey downwind and a mackerel upwind. Another Mackerel was popped up, cast into open water and twitched back towards the boat.

Half an hour later I was snapped into life by a purring bait runner, I wasn't dreaming, a fish was moving off with my Mackerel. I wound down and pulled into a fish that felt nice but not huge. At this point some plonker decided he could motor between my moored boat and the reeds leaving me no option but to drop my rod and quickly wind in another to prevent it from being towed away. Fortunately the Pike was still attached and I soon had a nice plump fish by the boat. The hooks were just nicked in the scissors so I decided to take them out with my fingers and not bother with the camera this time. My first Pike of 2010, not a monster but in the circumstances I was well happy and decided to stay put in this spot a while longer. Forty minutes later another float was on the move, this time the Lamprey fished on the reedline. I wound down....to nothing and retrieved a tooth marked bait. A short while later another float was on the move, this time a bluey but once again the bait was dropped before I was able to connect. Dropped takes have been a feature here in previous cold winter spells.

There was obviously a fish or two in the area so I decided to sit it out here until the light faded but my baits were left undisturbed. As the temperature dropped I tidied up and began the journey back to the boat yard. A desperately needed fix of fresh air and countryside, and a nice fish to the boat, all was well in my world. After retrieving the boat I had another hours drive home, by the time I got back I was cream crackered. I'll sleep well tonight, maybe this time I'll dream about giant Pike?

A year in the life of...

2010-01-04T13:12:00.000-08:00

Humbug.
The Christmas and New year madness has passed once again and the closest I've managed to get to water was a walk along the river on one of the less freezing days. To help with the withdrawal I've been picking fishing books off the shelf, re-reading favourite pieces and gazing at the photos. The last few weeks have been hectic to say the least and I haven't been able to find the time to get out but with three weeks of sub zero temperatures I don't feel I've missed out on any great fishing. However I'm definately missing fresh air and countryside. Stir crazy again.

2009 was certainly a very eventful year personally; disorganised and difficult at times but falling into place nicely at others. As the year has gone on things have got a bit easier and a lot happier. I suppose the fishing has been in a similar vein. Throughout the warmer months of 2009 it seemed that whatever I tried to catch things never went remotely to plan. During the spring as England's cricket team laboured in the West Indies, I tried to catch Tench. Now these are a fish that I almost always struggle to catch but this year I failed spectacularly. But I like Tench and this has made me more determined to put in a proper effort and catch a few this coming spring. I tried to catch some river Pike in the early summer but whenever I did so all I seemed to catch was Perch. Later in the year it was the same, try to catch Zander and I catch more Perch and a couple of Pike. However, If I actually try to catch Perch all I get is Jack Pike.
Despite these frustrations I thoroughly enjoyed the summer fishing, warm weather makes it all so much simpler. The soundtrack was great too, England regaining the ashes provided by TMS. The cricket never matched the vintage of 2005 but in reality it never could.

This year the Pike fishing has been really enjoyable with many more brilliant memories added. It's probably obvious that I love the place I choose to fish, for me it ticks all the boxes. I also really enjoy the style of fishing, active yet relaxing and rewarding. I'm sure there are people who catch far more than me and good luck to them. I do my own thing, I love what I do and every thing about it. With Pike (unlike just about any other species), I am able to kid myself that I actually know what I'm doing...most of the time. Whether I actually do or not is irrelevant, I think I do therefore I'm confident and I caught enough in 2009 to enable me to kid myself a while longer.

Here's some of my favourite photos from 2009.
Happy New Year.

My children enjoying the adventure

I love this place

Without doubt my favourite picture of 2009

A dodgy self timer shot that I kinda like

Return of the Blue Cow

2009-12-15T14:28:00.001-08:00

For once I had an easy journey on uncrowded roads but equally uncommon was a queue at the slipway. I had plenty of time to think, three weeks had passed since my last disastrous visit, plenty of time to lose track of the fish. However it seemed that this unlikely window of opportunity had opened at the right time for me as the long range forecast warned of a cold snap to come. Over night it had been clear and cool at home but here was cloud, signs of recent rain and milder temperature. The weatherman claimed today would be bright about 7 degrees with a moderate north easterly. I felt confident that Pike would be feeding, if I could find some.

I had an area in mind, one I didn't know particularly well and hadn't yet fished this season but had produced a fish or two this time last year. This was an area I'd had in mind on my last visit and for some reason I fancied my chances there today. By 8am I was in position, a Pollan cast towards the reeds, a Mackerel was fished upwind in open water while I Lamprey and Bluey were fanned out downwind. Amongst the Christmas madness at last a fix of fresh air, peace, countryside and maybe even a fish or two. For now it was just a case of making a brew, sitting back comfortably and waiting.

After only fifteen minutes or so, with the flask held precariously a bait runner purred, my Mackerel was moving. I wound down and on connection a fish thrashed noisily on the surface, then dived putting a nice bend in the rod. After that it was just a case of pumping back a nice solid weight towards the boat, the fish did little, soon a nice big head became visible near the net and within moments she was mine. Long and lean, in mint condition, my best of the season so far, bootiful! Into the sladle, unhooked without fuss, weighed, a quick photo then back in the water. The mackerel was recast, the tea was still warm and tasted great.

Twenty minutes later I was thinking about moving the Pollan when it started moving off on its own. Once again I pulled into a nice fish which pulled harder than the first but turned out to be smaller. Still a good fish though, admired for a moment then released. Over the years I've spent days here without seeing the float moved which makes the days when you find fish so much sweeter. Where there's one, there's often a few more. Would I complete the hat trick? Shortly after I had a strange experience, all around was bright blue sky except for one dark grey cloud. This was directly above and dumping light rain on top of me. At least I was treated to a rainbow.
Immaculate

After a quiet ninety minutes it was time for a move but where? I decided to stay in the general area so lifted the mud weights and travelled about 60 metres upwind, far enough to ensure all four baits would be fishing in new water. The rods were carefully spread out as before, the Pollan now popped up and twitched back towards the boat. The other rods were kept on the move too.
There were two “events” of this move but only the first actually concerned fishing, I glanced at the float above the bluey and noticed a flat patch on the surface caused by oil. This sometimes happens when a Pike chomps the bait and can be followed by a travelling float but this time it didn't occur. However there was another oil patch a minute or so later and it seemed to be in the wrong place, upwind as opposed to downwind. Very odd. When I wound that rod in the bait had gone? Had a fish picked up the bluey, somehow avoided the hooks (cast off?) and moved off with it? I'll never know.

The second event concerned a yacht. I noticed it coming towards me, his course seemed to indicate he was following the reedline and would pass harmlessly by. On the front of the yacht the obviously cheerful occupant had placed a good sized Christmas tree. Whether or not this obscured his view I don't know but all of a sudden it was apparent that he was heading straight for one of my lines. I was too slow and the line got caught up by which time the yacht was so close I barely had to raise my voice.
“You've picked up my line mate” I called
“Sorry” came the reply “there's nothing I can do, they're invisible...” He didn't consider stopping for a second.
“Invisible? With a bloody great orange float ?” I asked but got only a mumbled response.
I don't normally get 'involved' with the often selfish boaters I encounter, I usually just get on with it but this guy's 'don't give a shit' attitude got up my snout. I hung on the rod and luckily it came free, no harm done and after checking the line decided now was a good time for a move.

Invisible?

This time I travelled back downwind, beyond my original starting point and dropped into a slightly shallower area. By now the sun was obscured by cloud more often than not and with the forecast North easterly wind it felt chilly. The rods were spread again, two towards the reeds and two in open water. I stayed like this for an hour or so before another move where I concentrated on the open water. My belly was filled with a fry up and washed down with a cuppa but unfortunately no fish intruded on my meal. During the day it had become evident that the engine wasn't running quite right so I decided to get off the water in the early afternoon. I didn't fancy being out on the water, in the dark with no engine.

The journey home was brightened by listening to the football on local radio, Town actually won for a change. Another hour to kill, thoughts going through my head. At the beginning of the autumn the mornings had been quiet with all the fish coming after noon however, on my last two successful visits the action had all been in the first ninety minutes. No sooner do we notice a pattern then it changes. A spell of cold weather will change things for sure, if it stays cold for a while it will get tough. Here's hoping for mild weather when I make it out again, whenever that may be.

Rainbow

Stir Crazy

2009-12-03T14:14:00.000-08:00

Prior to my most recent trip I had a look through my fishing diaries and discovered that I'd gone ten consecutive trips to my favourite place without a blank, dating back to 4th January this year. Although I haven't caught anything to go mad about I was pretty pleased wth this consistency and there were a few good fish along the way. Obviously with all this back patting going on I was due for a fall from grace. Not only was my last visit a blank, (Fishing the same methods in the places that had produced for me recently) it later turned into an unprecedented disaster of which I will say no more...for now at least. Richard has managed to catch a few in the mean time but the bigger fish have eluded him too. In general, at the moment we're finding fish but not the ones we're after.

A couple of weeks with no fish and no fishing has got me climbing the walls a bit so I feel the need to rant here for a bit. In truth there have been times when I could have gone after a Pike or two close to home but I just can't get motivated to fish waters that don't inspire me. There is a very good chance of catching a big Pike from the waters local to me but almost all of them are places I have fished in the past. Most can be crowded and as I get older I definitely get more anti social, I go fishing to get away from people and just can't be bothered having the same conversation with a dozen different dog walkers. One of the advantages to boat fishing that gets mentioned least. Maybe I should try fishing for something else, there are some decent Chub locally that don't really get fished for? Right now they just don't float my boat (!) either. At some point life will be less hectic and then I'll probably find a will and a way.

The angling forums can be a diversion but at the moment these are full of rubbish too, however there have been a couple of posts lately asking “Why join the PAC?” The question should really be “Why not?” Apart from the social side; regional meetings with guest speakers, fish-ins, annual convention etc. the club campaigns for the protection of Pike and the rights of the Pike angler. Over the years the club has tackled everything; bait bans, Pike culls, access to fisheries, environmental campaigns And rehoming Pike. When I first fished for Pike you weren't a proper Piker unless you were a member of PAC, however it strikes me that through necessity the club was more radical, maybe more confrontational back then. I wonder if it would gain more support if it was like that today? Perhaps this might marginalise the club politically but there may come a day when there is no choice.

Another one of the many reasons for joining is Pikelines magazine and the autumn edition which dropped on the doormat recently was a great read. There is an interview with Neilson Baxter who is making some phenomonal catches of Scottish Pike. Neilson apparently enjoys “privilidged” access on one or two waters but it's obvious that the guy is totally dedicated, works hard for his fish and absolutely loves Pike. I think that the majority of Pikers, given the same circumstances would do exactly the same. The main theme for this issue is river Piking with interesting reads from David Wolsencraft Dodds on fly fishing, not something that really appeals to me but I enjoyed the article. Also Phil Kirk wrote a piece about tackling the River Trent. The closest I've come to this river is walking over it on the way to the Trent Bridge cricket ground. Another good read with some cracking photos.

I've shared a pint or three with Rob Shallcroft over the years and here is a guy who knows his rivers backwards and is a very succesful river Piker. He's written regularly for the magazine and it's always first class stuff, his latest article “Queens, aquariums and the urban bingo” is a gem and the pick of the bunch. It is obvious that Rob is speaking from the heart with real experience and he has the nack of getting his message across. The main photo accompanying it is really different and in its way spectacular. The rivers that Rob fishes are a world away from the ones I call home, they could hardly be more different. One of these days...

Bill Winship is another regular contributor but not one I've always read with conviction. He begins with the words “There are lots of things to be grateful for about living in Yorkshire...” And ends with “...a magical experience unique to winter time and unique to Yorkshire”. I don't think Bills experiences are as “unique” as he believes and sorry Bill but God isn't a Yorkshireman. I definately don't share Bill's view that “lures are 90% less effective in winter” not in my experience anyway but then again I haven't used a Devon Minnow in about thirty years. There were some interesting thoughts on bait though.

Time is short this weekend and the weather forecast is grim. Here's hoping I can fit in a day in the boat.
River Pike caught in winter on a Jerkbait fish shallow.