Still the rain falls

Still the rain falls, the river has barely been within it’s banks over the last week so hasn’t been on my mind.  This week I was due to fish with Mr P, it’s about this time every year that I remind him there’s more to fishing than Carp.  We usually go out in the Suffolk boat but with another miserable sodden day forecast we opted to do the sensible thing and sit under a brolly on the bank somewhere.  There wasn’t much choice for ‘where’ either, it would have to be the Olde Lake.

We set off in the dark and started laughing almost as soon as we were on the road and so the journey passed quickly.  By 0730 we were set up fishing deadbaits with two rods each, squeezed into a gap between reeds, this would mean we’d have to have our wits about us should we need to bring a fish to the net.  The water in front of us sloped from right to left, somewhere that’s always worth a go, indeed I’d caught a few fish here on my last visit.  The water was still high and coloured which is unusual for the lake but I’d done okay in these types of conditions the last time out.  We sat under a low set oval brolly peering out into the gloom, supping tea and having a good yarn.  An hour zipped past in no time at all but I was starting to get a bit twitchy, where were the pike?

At 0850 conversation was interrupted by stabbing float and a fizzing baitrunner, my rod baited with sardine was on the move.  I soon had a fish of seven or eight pounds in the net and we were off the mark.  A take here is often followed by one or two more in quick succession but that was not the case today and we spent the rest of the morning on our backsides putting the world to rights.  By midday we’d had no more action and with a brief spell of brighter weather it was a good time to have a move.  The area I fancied most was just too flooded, we couldn’t get in between the trees so we opted for the next available space.  We managed to squeeze our rods into another tight gap then set up camp on an island of slightly higher ground surrounded by flood puddles in the meadow that is fast becoming a marsh.  The waiting game began again.

An hour passed and as usual I was at the stage when I was beginning to have doubts then at last Mr P had a take on smelt.  We soon had a fish of eight or nine pounds in the net, Mr P was pleased and I was relieved, my Pike finding ability would not be called into question today.  Half an hour later the same rod was away again, a repeat performance with a similar sized fish and Mr P had a second.  At 1415 it was my turn with a take on a smelt I’d hurled out on a leger rig.  This fish swirled on contact then a decent weight kited round to the left, Mr P quickly wound in my other rod and got it out of the way in the nick of time.  I gradually brought the fish back towards me and it felt heavier than a Pike from this lake had any right to.  The fish didn’t want to come in and even took line off the clutch at one point but I soon had it on the top and Mr P scooped it up.  A most pleasant surprise, at 15.04 the biggest Pike I’d had from the Olde Lake for several years and an absolute cracker, fat with fantastic colours.

After that we had a quiet hour but with a couple of fish each we were content,  it was a happy afternoon in which we even saw the sun for a few minutes.  The time passed quickly with conversation and in the gaps the sound of Skylarks came down from up high.  At some point I manged to fall flat on my arse in the puddle but my partner rescued me with a hand before the water seeped through the layers.  Mr P had another take on smelt and added a third Pike which like the others was eight or nine pounds or so.  With the light beginning to fade and more dark clouds coming towards us on the south east wind we decided to wind in and make a break for it.  We got away and onto the roads just before the evening whacky races commenced.