Winter Sun

No work today but I woke at the usual time and knew I wouldn’t be getting any more kip, I was able to indulge myself with a lie in of sorts while the princess rattled through the kitchen.  Bloody cricket.  We’d been thrashed for the previous two days so God knows what I’d wake up to this morning.  Only one tour in the last thirty five years has cheered me up at breakfast.  But I couldn’t resist tapping the cricinfo icon on the bloody phone.  As the screen started to go blue over white I squinted my eyes, figures slowly came into focus, England 220.  Had we been bowled out FFS?  Squint again, 220-2.  For two!  Now I was awake.  We’re back in it, another couple of good sessions and this is an even game.  But that’s the trouble, it’s the hope that does for ya, a couple of quick wickets and it’s another fucking story.

I can’t lie in for long as I must drive into Town, the roads are soaked after heavy rain overnight but it’s after rush hour so the traffic is flowing.  Unfortunately it’s one of them days when all the wankers go for a drive.  First of all a bloody hire van on the dual carriageway, switching lanes into gaps that aren’t really there.  After that it’s fucking Range Rover’s, fine in the sticks but who the hell needs one driving in town?  None of them have even a splash around the wheels but of course they are impregnable, just witness the one cruising serenely through a red light or the other stopping everyone whilst doing a three point turn on a busy street.  Half an hour later I’m driving home, now triple jabbed and just in the nick of time by the look of things as we look like we're heading to the same situation we were in a year ago.

In the late morning Isaac and I headed out on a more relaxing drive.  He’s 19 now so can rarely crawl out of bed much before noon, consequently it’s a while since he’s been fishing so today we’ll fish the afternoon into dusk.  Soon we leave concrete and head down a crackling track fringed with hedges.  We follow a couple of partridges which are determined to outrun us but eventually have to flap their wings and admit defeat.  At the bottom of the slope a Buzzard lifted out of the hedge then flapped slowly and grumpily away, maybe we’d spoiled its plans for lunch.

By now the rain was long gone and the clouds were thinning but the wind was fierce and unexpected, rowing out would be easy but getting back might be a challenge.  With the boat loaded we were quickly away but where should we fish?  I couldn’t decide so anchored up in lee of shelter and soon we were fishing with two static deadbaits each plus a fifth shared rod, fishing a smelt under a float which would be allowed to drift.  After half an hour something off to the left caught my attention, I turned to see a familiar shape disappear into a large swirl.  A minute or so later the armchair animal lovers’ favourite furry killing machine was just a few yards away and swimming towards the boat before it dived and disappeared for good.  It’s uncanny how often something fishy happens after one of the beasts has moved through.  Minutes later and shortly after paying out a bit more line the drifting float disappeared.  Isaac wound into it and our first Pike of the day was hooked.  After a couple of splashes it was soon in the net where it helpfully unhooked itself.  We peered over the side for a few seconds then lowered the net and allowed it to swim away.

We gave it half an hour more then moved back against the wind into another spot that gave a bit of shelter, for the first time in weeks the sun actually came out while I was fishing!  The gusting wind made judging the casts tricky but we were soon settled and fishing again. On these trips the first priority is seeing the boy wonder enjoy himself so I was glad Isaac had caught the first fish. I now had custody of the drifting rod but Isaac was content and subtly reminded me that he was “in the lead”.  But this wasn’t the reason I wanted to catch, my recent form was two tough blanks on the concrete broad, I wanted to feel a bend in my rod.  After half an hour in the new swim nothing had happened so I moved a rod to the far right, a spot Isaac had left clear that often does a fish.  It was only a couple of minutes later that I saw the float wobble then slowly but definitely start to move away.  I wound down quickly and set the hooks but the bend in the rod soon started to straighten and Isaac had it scooped up in the net in no time.  Once again we peered into the clear water and it was at this point that a debate began, as to whose fish was larger/smaller.  This debate is still ongoing.

The sky began to dim, a creaking Heron flapped past which made me realise the wind had dropped a bit.  With a fish each we decided to call it a day, the row back to base wasn’t as bad as I’d feared and soon we were back in the car, heading home along the track.  Movement to the left, there was a Deer bounding along in the meadow beside us, I slowed and allowed it to overtake then it crossed the track and away through the fields.  A few minutes later we were back on tarmac and heading back to what they call civilisation.  It was proper dark by the time we got home, the sky now fully clear, it’ll be a cold one in Suffolk tonight and probably too bloody hot in Brisbane.