Happy New Year

When the river season closes I can’t just stop, I have to have one more go for Pike just to get it out of my system, put a full stop on the season and dispose of any unwanted bait.  It had to be a stillwater but I loaded the kit I’ve been using on the river.  I didn’t really know where to look for fish so wanted to keep on the move, a couple of deadbait rods and a few lures would do me.  We’ve crept past the equinox now and the roadsides were clad in white and yellow blossom, the world will be green again before you know it.

I was fishing by 0715 on a cloudy but mild morning which would have felt warmer without the south easterly blowing into my chops.  The first swim looked the part and it’s one place I have caught at this time of year, but not today.  A small fish followed a springdawg but that was my lot.  I also tried a couple of shads and a slider; I wonder why all my lures begin with an S?  After a couple of lazy hours here I moved along the bank into a tight swim between trees, both of which looked good places to drop my baits while I covered the water with lures.  After twenty minutes or so there was a solid thump and I was into a fish on a shad which charged about for a bit before I got it in the net where it tried to charge about some more.  A decent sized Pike was soon unhooked and returned.

After another half hour I moved again into a more open swim which gave me plenty of space to thrash the lure rod around.  And this I did, catching a fish had given me confidence and the water looked lovely and clear.  Of course it was the deadbait rod that trundled off, a take on a freshly cast herring but the bait was dropped as I wound down and there were no further signs here.  One last move, an hour spent listening to birdsong and trying to identify the little brown blobs.  Then I was amused by the antics of a large flock of Starlings which made quite a noise while perched but this ceased the second they took flight, like someone had pressed a switch.  Nothing here on bait or lures and I decided I’d had enough, for the day and for the season. 

Happy New Year
When the rest of the world goes mad on New years eve it means nothing to me; I enjoy the music on BBC2 but that’s as far as it goes.  For many years I went with the flow and pretended otherwise but in all the ways that really matter my new year begins sometime in mid March when I stop Pike fishing.  After that I’ll be doing something different so let the New year begin. So now is the appropriate time to look back at the previous four quarters in review, so to speak.
Starting off on the beaches; fishing for Rays wasn’t consistent this year but I caught a few, the best weighing 5-08 and 5-14.  The Bass fishing was good throughout with loads caught, plenty of keepers and five that were 44cms/2+.  I had eight different species including a PB Flounder early on in the year and a couple of Turbot but didn’t see a sign of a Smoothound.
Apart from one day on an old pit all of my course fishing was done on rivers.  In East Anglia I caught nine different species including a Chub of 4-07 which is the biggest I’ve caught ‘on purpose’.  Also Perch to 1-14, my first two Brown Trout – best 2-02 and my first Gudgeon and Minnows for more years than I can remember.
Not too long ago I’d only ever caught one 4+ Chub which was by accident on a lure.  This season alone I had seven which must make it my best ever?  Most of these came from my favourite river out west. Here I also caught more Barbel than in any previous twelve months including my best from the river at 8-11.
Almost half of almost every season is spent trying to catch Pike and this has been a strange few months for many reasons.  I didn’t get it quite right in Norfolk, I still managed to do okay but there’s a feeling it could have been better.  Having a ‘new’ water to go at was refreshing and really enjoyable and having a couple of old haunts to fall back on meant I caught Pike steadily all season.  So I’ve had plenty of better seasons and many that weren’t as productive but any ‘year’ I catch at least one twenty pounder has to be a good one.

Next time I fish it will be in salt water; firstly hoping to catch Rays then as the weeks pass it will be Bass and then the elusive Smoothound.  Usually this will involve a bit of a hike across unpredictable terrain to reach an inhospitable location where I usually sit on my arse, hypnotised by the rhythm of the rod tips and being deafened by booming waves and rolling shingle.  I always arrive home knackered, often in the early hours and always stinking like a deadbait bag.  What’s not to like?