Over the years the 23rd December has often been a lucky day for me, probably because being close to the dreaded C word I’m often off work? Whatever, my first twenty pounder was on the 23rd and there’s been at least two more since, including last year. This 23rd coincided with new moon and with a nice mild spell in progress I really should have headed for Norfolk but the forecast promised sheets of rain so I chickened out. But still I felt the need to fish, from the bank beneath the shelter of a brolly at least.
I couldn’t be arsed to get out of bed too early and had a
bit of a drive to an old lake on the edge of the county. The morning was dark and miserable, the rain
relentless enough for me to put the oval up before anything else so it was 0915
before I made a cast. Within minutes two
more deadbaits splashed down and I retreated to sanctuary beneath the oval
where I expected to mostly remain. But
within ten minutes a half herring dropped in close was on the move at speed, a
take which I somehow managed to miss?
With a fresh bait dropped back out I sulked beneath the brolly, the
weather was rubbish and I missed what could have been my only chance of the
day. The sky was dark and the rain so
hard not even the birds were flying.
An hour later it was still raining but not with as much malice, the sky was threatening to get a bit lighter. Things got even brighter, the buzzer signalling a take on a mackerel and this time I made no mistake bringing a welcome jack to the net, a dark fish in nice plump condition. In the half hour that followed I had two more fish, another jack on the mackerel and a slightly bigger one of about seven pounds on a herring at close range. The weather was improving all the time and I was able to spend longer periods sitting outside the brolly, enjoying a different view. At 1140 the mackerel was on the move again a fish which initially seemed to have a bit of weight to it but shrank at the net. The recast had barely settled before the float steamed off again but this time the bait was dropped.
By 1300 the rain had all but stopped and the sky was
threatening to clear, so much so I took the opportunity to tidy up and have a
short move. This time the rods went out
before I needed the brolly and this had only just been erected when I had another
take on mackerel. All the other fish had
been in good nick but this one was long, skinny and frayed at the edges. I sat and pondered; today I’d fished three
different baits and had takes on mackerel and herring, smelt remained
untouched. I had two rods fishing float
legers and all the takes had come to these, the leger rod hadn’t moved. It would be easy to draw conclusions about
all of this but sensible not to.
I gave it another couple of hours and even saw the sun poke
through the defeated clouds but no more pike bothered me today. Five fish banked which was four more than I
expected but where were the bigger ones today?
Maybe I’ll find them another day.
A week later, the dreaded annual gorgefest had passed and I
managed to convince Isaac it would be a good idea to chuck some lumps of fish
in water. It was another gloomy damp day
so I sorted out the bank fishing kit and we headed back to the same spot as
last time. When I looked at the forecast
I’d noticed fresh winds but we got out of the car and stepped into a gale. We’d not dragged ourselves out of bed too
early so it was just after 0900 before we were fishing, three deadbaits fished
with heavy leads and loud alarms while we sheltered from the fierce wind.
There were fish here last week and I was hoping for a
repeat, a take after ten minutes was the prefect start. It was my rod, a legered herring and I
connected with a Pike and brought it all the way to the bank where it found a
weedbed and shed the hooks. I’d seen it
and it was a jack but I don’t want to lose any of them. Unfortunately this wasn’t the start of a mad
feeding spell, the rain didn’t abate and the wind got stronger, the brolly was
stable but we couldn’t see the water, I hate sitting like that.
In the late morning the rain eased and we had a couple more
takes, I landed a Jack on mackerel but Isaac lost one on lamprey. By midday the wind was still raging and it
wasn’t fun, we’d had enough so jacked it in and that was my last fishing trip
of 2022.
Another angling obsessed year comes to an end and I’m
enjoying fishing as much as I ever have, if anything probably even more because
I’m much more relaxed about it all? Most
of what I do nowadays requires minimal effort, is relatively close to home and
well within my comfort zone. I continue
to spend my time in wild, beautiful places but most of the actual fishing I do
is relatively simple. I do spend a bit
of time on preparation each week so I’m able to keep my tackle organised then
it’s just a case of picking up what I need and off I go. The truth is for most of the year I just can’t
be arsed to go to the lengths I once did in pursuit of fish. These days I look at the effort other anglers
make for their fishing and think ‘fair play’ but I don’t want to catch them
that bad. I suppose it goes back to what
I’ve said before, it’s the act of fishing that must be enjoyable not just the
trophy shot.
The exception is autumn when I really do make a big effort and go the extra mile. Pike time in the special place is majestic and I put more effort into those eight weeks than the other forty four, that’s how it has to be. My diary tells me I’ve caught ninety nine Pike in 2022, these came from five different waters or maybe eight, depending on your point of view? I fished in pits, rivers, lakes and broads and managed a few big ones along the way too.
One of the absolute highlights of the year was our trip out west for a few days of fishing which is totally unlike anything we do in East Anglia. Just this alone makes it thrilling for me and to catch a couple of whiskery things capped an almost perfect trip. It also made me remember there’s more interesting winter coarse fishing to be enjoyed locally, away from the crowded stillwaters.
After Pike I spend more time sea fishing than anything else and since rediscovering the joy of this insane pursuit I now count the days between trips all year round. Catching a few Bass on lures was great fun and any Smoothound is an event. I still make loads of mistakes but I’m learning loads, this year from the sea I caught eight different species including a Gurnard which was a new one to me. Including this I had five PB’s as well as five second bests and from freshwater I managed one PB and three second bests. 2022, it all went rather well…
Now all the Christmas bollocks is almost over it feels like
I’ve pushed through some kind of obstacle and I can see longer, milder days
ahead. The New year will still be cold,
grey and murky but I will mix up the Pike fishing with other stuff, then when the
river season ends its back to the beaches.
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