Rarities

Suffolk has good sized, flowing rivers forming the county boundaries to the north and south but the rest of the county isn’t blessed with rivers.  We have some dramatic estuaries which I’m just beginning to explore but we don’t really have much in the way of proper lowland rivers.  There are a handful of watercourses given a name beginning with ‘river’ but in reality these are shrinking year by year and are now little more than streams.  There are many of these, some run so low at times that I doubt there are any fish left but a few have a population of fish of sorts.  The largest stream runs through my home town and has held good fish of many species but sadly gets less interesting with every passing season. 

There’s another fairly substantial stream to the east which had been noted as a fishery in the past but for some reason I’d never actually got round to fishing it.  I know that in the past it held Pike to a reasonable size but at that time I had much better fishing closer to home.  However it had been niggling me for a while, a local river that I’d never caught a Pike from half an hour away, putting that right has been something I’ve been meaning to do.  The problem with these streams is access; firstly getting to the water itself can be almost impossible and then there’s the issue of finding areas that aren’t weed choked and unfishable.  I’d deliberately waited until winter had taken hold and the rivers had received a bit of rain water to flush them through.  After scanning google earth I’d found a promising area, a layby for the car and a footpath along the river.  That would be a starting point, time to go and have a look.

The Suffolk countryside looked dull and subdued on another sunless December day, after half an hour driving I found the river and pulled over.  I wandered up to the bridge without much clue what I’d find but a brief look downstream gave me hope and I was soon back with a lure rod, landing net and a few bits in a small rucksack.  The river was running clear and low but looking at the scoured banks it was apparent that it could rip through with force when in flood.  The pool beneath the bridge was wide and relatively deep so was an ideal place to start.  I was using my lightest lure set up with small lures, the best way to search new ground and probably the best method of all when these little rivers are running low and clear.  I clipped on a small shad and began casting, within five chucks I’d pretty much covered the pool and it didn’t seem like anything was home but on the sixth cast something grabbed the lure and I was soon pulling back.  After the briefest fight I pulled a very welcome Jack into the net.  Mission accomplished, a Pike from a new river so by default a PB!

After a few more casts around the pool I went downstream to explore and found that this little river split into two, then three separate streams which then reconnected a way downstream.  I walked every stretch that I could, having a cast here and there.  Many parts were very shallow with water running quickly over gravel, other bits were slow and choked but I found the occasional pool which looked like it could hold a fish or two so had a few casts where I could.  With a mile in my legs I had a second, smaller Pike which took an Ondex spinner but I didn’t see any other fish of any kind.  Back at the car I made a brew and leant against the bridge watching water running away towards the sea.  Two jacks was a right result, I hadn’t wished for anything more.  But there are other stretches of this little river to have a look at; I’ll be back before the end of the season. 

 

The next day was completely different.  For a start the sky was clear leading to the type of sharp frost that makes internet Pikers orgasmic.  And it meant for only the second time in weeks I’d actually see the sun.  On the road in the dark, away to the east things are starting to light up.  I’ve never seen the northern lights but it must be some experience if it’s better than pre-dawn on a crisp winter day.  Today I was fishing running water once again but on the other side of the county and on a different scale to yesterday’s stream.  This time I wouldn’t be wandering for miles, today I’d be staying put, sitting it out in one swim.  What’s more I would be sitting on a comfortable chair, fishing from the bank, something that has become a novelty in recent years.  Not only that, the nature of the spot meant I’d be using a bloody rod pod and I think that might be a first for me when Pike fishing?

I set up by torch light and soon had three rods assembled; float legers near and far baited with bluey and herring, and a legered smelt cast upstream, in the middle.  The sky grew slowly brighter, gradually revealing the frosted marsh around me.  I know this is what is supposed to happen but I haven’t witnessed it in a while, this morning was beautiful and I appreciated it.  As the sun rose higher I even had to find my shades, sitting comfortably behind rods with a brew in the middle of nowhere, anticipation growing, what could be better?

Two hours later the anticipation had vanished and I had reminded myself of all the advantages of fishing from a boat; there’s a reason why I don’t fish from the bank very often.  Normally by this time I would definitely have moved at least once, as it was I’d recast and repositioned all three rods but I’d run out of options now.  Mobility, that advantage alone makes boat fishing preferable in almost all situations.  But at least I was comfortable and enjoying a bright day that was becoming warmer, there’s more to it than catching blah blah.  But then a float moved, slightly but very definitely, a herring cast to the far side and as I rose to my feet it went off downstream, gathering pace. By the time I reached the rod the alarm had just started to sound and the baitrunner tick.  I wound down quickly and pulled the rod into a healthy bend, which stayed as the fish kited in to the left.  I turned it before it managed to tangle the leger rod and began to pull it back upstream, it dawned on me that this fish actually felt far heavier than I expected it should on this water.  Up close in crystal water it did look a good un and I breathed a big sigh when it went into the net at the second attempt.  Peering down at a big framed fish I couldn’t believe it, that’s got to be over twenty!

I left the fish in the net while I got all the essentials ready, then lifted a heavy fish onto the mat.  One double hook was nicked in nicely and came out with a twist.  The scales confirmed what I already knew, with a bit to spare.  The fish was dark and a long one, an old warrior that could weigh more at times in its life.  Unfortunately I’d drained the camera battery taking sunrise photos so could only snap a couple of photos on the mat with my phone.  Back into the clear water, she slid away defiantly while I grinned like an idiot.

An hour later the same rod went again, this time I netted a skinny Jack, a fish I’d have been happy to catch not long ago and more like what I’d expected when I set up this morning.  Big Pike aren’t common in this part of the world these days which is one of the reasons I’m usually driving for an hour or more for my fishing.  I fish places where I can reasonably expect to catch the odd biggun but this isn’t one of them, a real surprise early gift if you’re into that kind of thing.  It’s nice to be proven wrong with a fish I didn’t believe could be present in this water.  I was back in the car just after noon, stuff to do this afternoon, that time of year…  But from the car stereo Led Zeppelin never sounded better.  Happy bloody Christmas.