December is my least
favourite month of the year. We are
bombarded by bullshit under the name of “Christmas” and I rarely get any time
to escape from it all with a day on the water.
This December has been worse than ever and respite with rods was a
prescribed necessity. Rich and I have
been friends on and off the bank for nearly thirty years and despite constant
communication and spending most of our Piking time in the same places we hadn’t
actually fished together, from the same boat for nearly eight years. So here we
were on a gloomy morning, sitting in a boat on an ancient East Anglian water
slowly tackling up and waiting for the sun to rise.
This trip had been
long planned but had suffered from a couple of false starts but at last here we
were. I’ve fished this water a few times
now but this was Rich’s first visit The light grew gradually brighter although
the sun never appeared from behind the thick cloud but our floats stood out,
little spots of colour amidst the gloom.
Half an hour after casting one of these tipped and slid away, Rich was
away on Herring and soon chinned a small Pike out. His first Pike from a special new water meant
the camera had to come out before the fish was quickly slipped back. Another half hour passed before we had a
flurry of takes, I managed a nice fish on smelt while Rich dropped a jack and
had another helpfully unhook itself close to the boat. Things looked good for more action but things
went quiet and half an hour later we were on the move. Another half an hour in a new spot and I was away again with a
similar sized fish on Herring.
We spent most of the
day fishing in the same way, every move seemed to bring a take or two but all
were small fish and some shook themselves off before they reached the boat. As ever the chat was constant; we lauded our
Rugby team which seems to keep getting better and discussed our cricket team
which is also improving, despite getting a hiding in India. As always we talked about our first love in
angling, why do we still keep struggling and battling away at the 'special
place'? I always liken the Piking here as
being like playing cricket at Lords, nowhere else comes close. Rich agreed but said at the moment it’s like
bowling at Lords with the opposition 500-2!
Dinner came courtesy of an excellent recent purchase. The ‘Ridge Monkey’ sandwich toaster is a
brilliant bit of kit, providing a hot, tasty snack with the minimum amount of
fuss, even in a cramped boat.
In the mid-afternoon
we took a long row to an area I hadn’t fished for some time. As we neared the spot we were heartened to
see a few silver fish showing, more than we’d seen all day. By now the clouds had sunk lower and were
depositing annoying drizzle (it always bloody rains when I fish here!), it seemed as if dusk would come early. It didn’t feel like good conditions but as
we’d managed to pick a few fish off through the day we still felt
confident.
Rich was the first in action,
hitting a fish that put a proper bend in the rod for the first time today. His first double from this water was soon in
the net to smiles all round. After a
quiet half hour it all kicked off. Rich
again was into a decent fish which unfortunately threw the hooks on the
surface. Then it was my turn with a fast
take on smelt, I wound down but felt nothing and retrieved a smelt minus its
head! Rich had another aborted take and quickly got the bait back out but shortly
after my Lamprey was picked up and after a good battle my first double of the
day was in the net. Minutes later the
smelt ripped off again and for a second time I felt nothing and wound in a
headless smelt! I have a feeling
something other than Pike may have been responsible? I didn’t have time to think too long as a
Herring cast along the near margin was away.
A nice fish tried to take me into the reeds but strong braid nearly
always settles the matter and another double was brought to the boat. As I was all out of Herrings I recast with
another smelt, this had hardly settled before it was on the move again and I
was attached to another, similar sized Pike.
By now it was growing dark and the threatening clouds had started to
dump heavier rain on us. We fished on
for a while longer before calling it a day.
As I rowed back we
reflected on an enjoyable day. We’d
caught fish on a variety of baits but Herring and Smelt had clearly produced
the most; coincidence, positioning or preference? There had been action throughout but that mad
hour at the end had produced eight takes and all the biggest fish. Had we finally located them in the afternoon
or did the fish all over the water just switch on? We can discuss debate and theorise but in the
end we don’t really know and that’s the way I like it.
