The answer was frozen, mostly, despite me having a late start to allow the sun to get on the water, (at least that’s what I told myself). The only area clear of thin ice was one that hadn’t produced on my last couple of visits, so not somewhere I would have chosen to start. I soon had three deadbaits out – near, middle and far but I wasn’t particularly confident. However sat back on my chair with a brew, it was good to be out in the countryside. The morning was cold and cloudy but there was little breeze so it stayed comfortable. A Robin kept me company, scrounging a few little pieces of biscuit, I think these birds know exactly what they are doing. A bird of prey glided over, a dark Buzzard shape in silhouette against a grey sky. An armada of Swans flopped into the water opposite me, normally I’d curse the creatures but today they moved downstream and so broke up a lot of the thinning ice.
An hour passed, scanning the now drifting ice - planning a move my eyes noticed a line lift up, was it? Yes, something was moving off with a smelt cast to the far side. I wound down quickly and yes I was into a fish, there was no great resistance and I soon had my first Pike of 2024 in the net. The smelt was still intact so was recast back to the far side of the drain and I sat back with a smile. Half an hour later the same rod was away again, another mint fish a little bigger than the first and I completed a hat-trick shortly after with another one on smelt which might have been a double had I got the scales out. I had two more takes before noon but both were dropped before I wound down, sometimes a sign of pressure but equally a symptom of cold weather.
Despite having plenty of action, after a quiet forty five
minutes or so I had itchy feet, time for a move downstream. A few minutes later I was settled in what
would have been my first choice swim when I’d arrived this morning. I had nice overhanging trees on either side
so swung a bluey to the left and a herring to the right then cast a smelt to
the far side again. The Robin had
followed me, still on the cadge for biscuit crumbs and bedraggled looking Blue
Tits chirped in the trees. After half an
hour a float started creeping away downstream, I set the hooks quickly and
bullied the fish away from the tree then pretty much straight into the net, the
smallest fish of the day was soon unhooked and returned. I’d barely recast this rod when the smelt cast to the far side was off
again, I wound in and quickly brought a reasonable fish to the surface where it
thrashed and spat the hooks back at me, oh well.
The right hand rod had been quiet so I cast it further out
and back upstream. This had been in
position for about half an hour before the float jabbed and the Micron let out
a couple of beeps. I stood next to the
rod expecting the float to slide away but nothing happened, surely that was a
pick up? I gave it five minutes then
wound the rod in, the herring definitely showed signs of attention but was still
good for a recast so back out it went.
The float had hardly settled before it was steaming downstream, I struck
quickly and heaved the fish away from the middle line, just. This fish plodded about a bit but soon rolled
over and into the net, a long lean, tatty looking fish brought my tally to
five.
The day was still gloomy but my mood was bright, I’d set out
with the simple goal of catching a Pike and this I’d more than achieved. By 1430 the wind had gathered speed and swung
to the north, for the first time my face and hands were raw. I gave it another half hour then thought
‘that’s enough’ and head for home.
A couple of days later...
I don’t care what anyone says, those crisp, frosty winter
days with clear skies and a gentle breeze does not equal ‘pike weather’, not on
the vast majority of the places I fish at least. On some waters I wouldn’t even bother going
when the weather is like this. Two
exceptions to this for me are rivers with a good flow and deeper stillwaters,
on these waters I feel I have a chance when the weather is crunchy. Which is just as well because I’d arranged to
join a Suffolk PAC ‘fish in’ on a big gravel pit that I hadn’t fished for over
twenty years.
I’ve kept an angling diary from the beginning and I’m organised enough to know where to look for details from two decades ago, so I was able to remind myself where I’d caught fish back then and google earth filled in a few blanks too. I was last out of the draw so everyone else had picked their swims by the time I was hiking but this didn’t matter as I still ended up fishing roughly where I would have had I come out first. I started off fishing a float legered bluey a couple of rod lengths out in fourteen feet of water while a smelt attached to a sunk float paternoster rig was cast into over twenty and twitched back towards me. I also used a lure rod from time to time, buzzing Shads and Spinnerbaits about, just trying to wake something up if anything. I moved twice in attempt to cover water and hopefully drop a bait near to a Pike as I didn’t expect them to be moving about much in this cold weather. Despite putting in a big effort I didn’t get a pull, that’s fishing.
A few of my comrades caught Pike, two of which were while I
was on the move so I did see a couple of nice fish and I’d forgotten what a pleasant water this is. It’s big enough to
be interesting with enough water for fish to avoid being caught too often, angling
pressure should have less effect than a smaller water. Being a mature gravel pit it’s also a nice
place to sit and watch the world go by and I’m sure I’ll be back some time. Two enjoyable days fishing two totally different types of water but what I really want to do is get back to
Norfolk…
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