Rain, Ice and Hangovers

For once I had a little time, the kids were with their mother and I had no responsibilities for almost three full days. The previous week had been all rain but by now it was a bit milder although still far from ideal conditions. The plan was to make my way north around midday but the weather was particularly foul and I had a hangover. The previous evening had been fun, company was great, too much food, too much wine and will I ever learn? Instead I slowly and unsteadily got myself organised and set off in mid afternoon. It was still raining but not as heavily now and the north west wind was easing off.

I was on the water by 1730 and fishing, anchored securely in a sheltered spot by 1800. I put three deadbaits out fished on heavy leads with tight lines and 'boatbiters' then settled back in the boat and tried to keep myself dry. Rich was somewhere out there too and we exchanged texts, nothing doing. I sat in my boat which was extra organised awaiting developments and planning my approach for the next two days. Where should I fish tomorrow? I was still undecided, Plan A involved the longer journey and far from ideal conditions. Plan B ? Let's just see..........Also in my mind I was making modifications to the boat, next winter I need more shelter, some kind of cuddy. The rain was annoying but didn't make things too uncomfortable. It was great to be back on the system.

By 2130 I'd twitched two of the three baits back to the boat and recast again. The rain had all but stopped, the moon shone above the thick cloud and it was still a fairly light, if that's the right word? Somewhere to my left something splashed so I recast the nearest rod to where I thought the sound had come from. Could have been a bird but could have been a fish. An hour later I'd had enough so made my way carefully back to base for a late hot pasta supper before crashing out in the car.

Organised

I slept OK despite a cold night and was up early the next morning, anchored up in time to see the sun come up. Rich was back on the water too and had opted for plan A. I went for plan B and we'd keep in touch by text. I put a Mackerel and Bluey downwind and cast a popped up Pollan across. The fourth rod was a bait I hadn't used all year, codename 'the evil'. The early morning anticipation turned to 'what next?' as time ticked by. Rich wasn't doing any better so if I move, where to? I repositioned the boat once but stayed in the same general area then made a second move late in the morning. This time I left the area and stopped some way away in a part of the system I hadn't fished for a good while.
Once again I fanned out four baits then settled back, warm and comfortable in the early spring (?) sunshine. A north west wind put a good ripple on the surface and things looked good. I chilled out and watched the harriers at close quarters as they skimmed the reedline however they didn't look like they were hunting. One soared high then cartwheeled downwards again as if it were flying for the shear joy of it. This bird was joined by another and they wheeled around in what I'm guessing was some kind of courtship game. All very well but where were the Pike? Another text from Rich, nothing was happening where he was either and he was heading back for a lunch time rendezvous. As the time passed I became agitated, it wasn't happening, where next? At a little after noon whilst scanning the floats I noticed something amiss, surely one of them.....? Yes it was on the move, something had picked up 'the evil' and was running straight towards the boat. I picked up the rod and wound down a load of slack line before pulling into a fish which pulled back...for a second or two. Not a monster but needed the net and where there's one there might well be another.

Rich appeared an hour or so later and after a short move we tied the two boats together, cast a couple of rods each and settled down for a fry up. Despite pooling information, swapping ideas, theories and fishing as a team it was the first time Rich & I had been in the same place, at the same time all season. It made a nice change to have a bit of a social for a couple of hours. The blue & white team is happy this season but Rich has definitely been the leading scorer. Sunshine, sausage sarnies, hot tea but no Pike. Time for a move.

We both stayed in the same general area but set off in different directions trying to find fish. I got settled in a spot which enabled me to cover both the reeds and the open water and spread the baits around again. As the day waned the wind dropped away completely and so did my confidence, this place fishes better with a bit of chop. The flat calm surface reflected a beautiful sunset but no Pike. We left the broad just after dark without sign of a fish.


Bootiful

A drive in the car through deserted country lanes with Led Zeppelin pumping out saw two men with red faces arrive at a pub, for a couple of pints and a chat about the day ahead. It was hard going and we felt the fishing was unlikely to improve dramatically the next day. We struggled to come up with any ideas or locations that would inspired us at all. At this time of year the Pike should be on the move but the wicked winter had delayed things. Do we look for the places we'd expect to find them or chose areas where we would be likely to intercept the wanderers? Rich had driven so I had the opportunity to drink too much, will I ever learn? Obviously not. Still it knocked me out and numbed me to the cold but caused me to sleep too well as I was woken by the rising sun the following morning. I emerged from the car feeling dodgy and bewildered but was soon in the boat and after breaking ice in the dyke, out for another crack at the Pike.


I opted to fish an open water area which I felt would give me a chance of intercepting any Pike that might be wandering. A Mackerel and Bluey were fished downwind, a popped up Pollan cast upwind and 'the evil' was dropped off the back of the boat and baited with a load of chopped fish, former hook baits. The day was a repeat of the previous, bright and breezy but this time the wind came from the north. Rich was away fishing another similar spot and so far had nothing to report. At around 9.30 a float jabbed and slid away, it was the rod fishing 'the evil' again. The strike met something solid and pleasing, a nice bend in the rod. Yesterday's fish needed the net and this one needed the sladle too. Hooks out easily, a quick glance at a beautiful spotty fish in mint condition then back she went to grow bigger.


In the net!

This gave me a well needed confidence boost so I chopped a load more bait up and spread it around. Usually I move about a lot but today I decided to stay in the same general area, just repositioning the boat every now and then so I could put baits in places I hadn't previously touched. The day passed quickly, Rich was in sight but a fair way off, he kept moving and searching but couldn't find any fish. I stayed put and didn't fare any better fish wise but thoroughly enjoyed another sunny day afloat. Once again the Harriers were spectacular and for the first time this year it really did seem like spring was on its way at last.


By late afternoon the sun was beginning to dip and the temperature started to fall. I decided to call it a day and get the boat off the water and head home while it was still light. The two and a bit days had been very tough but I would have happily stayed for another two. Time is short now, just one more big effort before the season ends. Here's hoping.

Grueller

Another late start and a tedious journey north through sleety, shitty weather. When's it all going to end? I'm sick and tired of scraping the car windscreen, fed up with snow, ice, sub zero temperatures and slippery roads. It's crappy fishing weather so why bother? I've answered that one before. The journey was brightened by playing Happy Mondays very loud and trying to fathom Ryder's lyrics;

“I can do tricks I can
I'm like a dog with two dicks I am
why don't you tie me to a tree
and have another cup of Typhoo tea?”

My moan of the morning is why the hell do people take the piss and risk their lives over taking on bendy single carriageway roads? Giles & I nearly copped it last winter when some idiot was in a hurry and a work mate had a nasty experience the other day. Today I witnessed more madness but thankfully it didn't end in tears.

Once again it was mid morning before I was anchored up and fishing but I didn't feel I'd missed out on a lot by not having the early morning start in these cold conditions; however I wasn't here so I'll never know. There were three other boats about, two were close to areas I fancied so I ended up fishing what has become my normal starting point over the last couple of trips. I made a pigs ear of anchoring the boat and ended up side on to the wind but it wasn't too strong and this enabled me to get a good spread of baits. Three were fished downwind, while a fourth was cast upwind towards the reeds. The plan was the same as last time out, cold weather the fish won't be moving much. Keep the baits on the move, recast regularly and twitch baits, try to put one close enough to a Pike that she won't be able to ignore it.

The morning was quiet, in fact it was so quiet I took to listening to the sounds of birds. Above the racket made by the ever present gulls I could hear a Woodpecker tapping away, the unmistakable squawk of a Pheasant and a grumpy Heron sounding like a rusty door hinge. I spent ninety minutes in the first spot before pulling up the weights and heading for 'submarine bay', an area I hadn't fished for quite some time. I cast two rods upwind into open water and two more downwind towards the reeds then made myself comfortable just before a blizzard descended. This was my first experience of fishing in such conditions from an open boat and it wasn't the most pleasant part of the day by far. Soon it passed and a weak winter sun peaked through the clouds. I was treated to the sight of a Bittern taking wing, flying across the bay and vanishing amongst the reeds opposite. This is also a spot where the Harriers are guaranteed to come close, whispering death gliding silently overhead.

Snow

As the afternoon drew on the sky was mostly cloudy. Where do I fish next? All I could do was recall places that had produced at this time of year in seasons gone by. But surely in a more 'normal' winter the Pike would have spawning on their minds by now? My third stop was uneventful fish wise. I sat enjoying a little winter sun, watching filthy grey clouds passing harmlessly by to the east. I should have known better. From nowhere the wind strengthened and veered to an easterly, bringing the clouds with it and dumping a load more sleety crap on top of me.


My final stop of the day was another hour of sunshine and sleet showers spent in the area where I'd saved the blank on my previous visit, would it work twice? In short no. I watched the sun set and and fished until the floats, twitched right back to the boat, were barely visible. I packed up with the temperature dropping quickly but by the time I'd dragged the boat out once again I was sweating. Today had been a grueller but whispers on the wind were inspirational...

Cold

More bloody snow and more horrible cold frosty weather. When will it ever end? I've had more than enough of it now. Saturday evening was spent in an all you can eat Chinese buffet restaurant. After several helpings and some booze I emerged barrel shaped. After a late night and a day of cold crappy weather ahead, a visit to a local river and a spot of bank fishing was in order. No sensible person would drive sixty miles to fish from a boat on shallow waters with very little chance of a fish. Guess what I did...

By late morning I was afloat and fishing four deadbaits, lives would have been better but... There are only six weeks of the season left and I have to make the most of every opportunity to fish it, besides, I love it here and don't really want to fish anywhere else. I followed a plan of sorts; my first stop was in an area where I'd caught a few fish but not recently. For some reason I felt I had to give it a go here for an hour, just in case. An hour became ninety minutes before I moved to my second spot. This was where I'd had a couple of takes in the early afternoon last time out, a fortnight ago. The sky was clear, the day was bright and the views were beautiful. But the wind was from the north west and by Christ it was cold. I kept the baits moving, either recasting or twitching them back towards me.  The thinking was; the Pike won't be moving much in this cold weather so I have to put a bait close to them.  Two hours passed here before I pulled up the mudweights once again.

My final stop of the day was in an area I'd been meaning to give a try for some time but hadn't fished so far this season. I cast the four baits and settled down in the bottom of the boat, out of the wind to empty the flask and watch the sunset. Maybe I should have stayed local and fished the river? No way! I picked up the rod baited with mackerel and twitched it back towards me. Was that a tug on the line? I opened the bail arm and let out a coil of line....yes! The float was sliding off. The strike met with a fish but not the hoped for monster, a jack thrashed on the surface before being unhooked alongside the boat. A fish against the odds, that'll do for me today. I'm still managing to find a fish but not the ones I'm after.

I had planned to fish into darkness but it was bloody freezing so after another big sky sunset I fished a while longer, till I couldn't see the floats then pulled the mudweights and headed back. Ice was forming in the slipway as I retrieved the boat. The journey home was brighten by the sight of a large Deer, I'm not sure what species (maybe a Red?) but this thing was a big stag with huge antlers. He crossed the road in front of me with an air that said “I'm crossing and you're waiting” before disappearing into the trees.  It may have been cold but there are some things you won't see sitting in a warm house, unless its on the TV.  A small fix of countryside sets me up for another week of the routine, here's to the next time.

Persistance

Dreams are very strange. This morning my alarm clock interrupted an interview I was conducting with the South African Cricket captain, Graham Smith. He was telling me how he was about to retire from cricket in order to take up a position as game keeper at an East Anglian country estate. I'm not sure how I reached this conclusion as he was speaking Afrikaans.... Dreams are very strange.

An hour in the car gave me plenty of time to think. One thing I don't understand is, when you can see oncoming car lights from literally a mile away, why do people wait until the last bloody minute to dip them? After a month of sub zero temperatures and loads of bloody snow the thaw has finally set in. The rivers I crossed on my journey north had burst their banks and the flood plains were full of water. Surely this rise in temperature will get the Pike moving? But where will they be? I've only been on the water once in the last two months until today so I have no recent experience to draw on. I will just have to go looking for them. It took a while to bail out the boat after all that horrible snow and a couple of days of heavy rain but soon I was on my way.

I decided to start in the area I'd caught a nice brace from last time out and was sitting back comfortably with four rods out and a brew in my hand in time to watch the sun rise in a clear sky. This was the mildest day in nearly a month and with a nice wind from the west conditions looked pretty good. The baits were carefully positioned around the boat and a diving Grebe gave me hope that there may be fish in the area. After an hour without sign of a fish I was pondering my next move. I had absolutely no idea where the fish had been showing up lately so all I could do was think back to where I was finding them in previous cold, mid winter spells in past seasons. With a decision made I pulled up my mud weights and motored off to a place that had produced at this time in the past. I spent almost two hours here, not because I found any Pike but because I became engrossed in listening to TMS on the radio, England lost the test match before lunch on the fourth day. A 1-1 draw in South Africa has to go down as a good result but this together with the summer's Ashes win flatters a team which still needs a lot of improvement. Unfortunately Graham Smith did not announce his retirement either.

My next stop was another place that had previously turned up a fish or two in similar circumstances. This area is a bit deeper than the norm and at times the bait fish congregate here too. I remember the first time I ever fished this spot, a passenger in Richard's boat several years ago now. Conditions were atrocious, it was freezing cold and we were battered by a blizzard and I mean horizontal snow flakes stinging our faces on a strong Northerly wind. Anybody with half an ounce of sense wouldn't have bothered but.... We had just got settled, rods out and relatively comfortable when the wind blew the boat from the mooring and we were adrift. After hastily winding the rods in I discovered my livebait had been chomped and left for dead, that was the only take of a grim but memorable day. Today was much more comfortable but not memorable for any activity from the fish.

Time was passing quickly and more than half the day had gone. Somewhere out there were some Pike and if I could put a bait close enough I was sure I could catch, but where? Two areas came to mind, I hadn't fished either for quite a while but both had turned fish up in previous Januarys. One of these also had the advantage of being quite sheltered so I headed here first, I'd give it an hour and if nothing happened I'd move on again. I cast a Lamprey towards the reeds, a Bluey downwind and a mackerel upwind. Another Mackerel was popped up, cast into open water and twitched back towards the boat.

Half an hour later I was snapped into life by a purring bait runner, I wasn't dreaming, a fish was moving off with my Mackerel. I wound down and pulled into a fish that felt nice but not huge. At this point some plonker decided he could motor between my moored boat and the reeds leaving me no option but to drop my rod and quickly wind in another to prevent it from being towed away. Fortunately the Pike was still attached and I soon had a nice plump fish by the boat. The hooks were just nicked in the scissors so I decided to take them out with my fingers and not bother with the camera this time. My first Pike of 2010, not a monster but in the circumstances I was well happy and decided to stay put in this spot a while longer. Forty minutes later another float was on the move, this time the Lamprey fished on the reedline. I wound down....to nothing and retrieved a tooth marked bait. A short while later another float was on the move, this time a bluey but once again the bait was dropped before I was able to connect. Dropped takes have been a feature here in previous cold winter spells.

There was obviously a fish or two in the area so I decided to sit it out here until the light faded but my baits were left undisturbed. As the temperature dropped I tidied up and began the journey back to the boat yard. A desperately needed fix of fresh air and countryside, and a nice fish to the boat, all was well in my world. After retrieving the boat I had another hours drive home, by the time I got back I was cream crackered. I'll sleep well tonight, maybe this time I'll dream about giant Pike?

A year in the life of...

Humbug.
The Christmas and New year madness has passed once again and the closest I've managed to get to water was a walk along the river on one of the less freezing days. To help with the withdrawal I've been picking fishing books off the shelf, re-reading favourite pieces and gazing at the photos. The last few weeks have been hectic to say the least and I haven't been able to find the time to get out but with three weeks of sub zero temperatures I don't feel I've missed out on any great fishing. However I'm definately missing fresh air and countryside. Stir crazy again.

2009 was certainly a very eventful year personally; disorganised and difficult at times but falling into place nicely at others. As the year has gone on things have got a bit easier and a lot happier. I suppose the fishing has been in a similar vein. Throughout the warmer months of 2009 it seemed that whatever I tried to catch things never went remotely to plan. During the spring as England's cricket team laboured in the West Indies, I tried to catch Tench. Now these are a fish that I almost always struggle to catch but this year I failed spectacularly. But I like Tench and this has made me more determined to put in a proper effort and catch a few this coming spring. I tried to catch some river Pike in the early summer but whenever I did so all I seemed to catch was Perch. Later in the year it was the same, try to catch Zander and I catch more Perch and a couple of Pike. However, If I actually try to catch Perch all I get is Jack Pike.
Despite these frustrations I thoroughly enjoyed the summer fishing, warm weather makes it all so much simpler. The soundtrack was great too, England regaining the ashes provided by TMS. The cricket never matched the vintage of 2005 but in reality it never could.

This year the Pike fishing has been really enjoyable with many more brilliant memories added. It's probably obvious that I love the place I choose to fish, for me it ticks all the boxes. I also really enjoy the style of fishing, active yet relaxing and rewarding. I'm sure there are people who catch far more than me and good luck to them. I do my own thing, I love what I do and every thing about it. With Pike (unlike just about any other species), I am able to kid myself that I actually know what I'm doing...most of the time. Whether I actually do or not is irrelevant, I think I do therefore I'm confident and I caught enough in 2009 to enable me to kid myself a while longer.

Here's some of my favourite photos from 2009.
Happy New Year.


My children enjoying the adventure


I love this place

Without doubt my favourite picture of 2009

A dodgy self timer shot that I kinda like

Return of the Blue Cow

For once I had an easy journey on uncrowded roads but equally uncommon was a queue at the slipway. I had plenty of time to think, three weeks had passed since my last disastrous visit, plenty of time to lose track of the fish. However it seemed that this unlikely window of opportunity had opened at the right time for me as the long range forecast warned of a cold snap to come. Over night it had been clear and cool at home but here was cloud, signs of recent rain and milder temperature. The weatherman claimed today would be bright about 7 degrees with a moderate north easterly. I felt confident that Pike would be feeding, if I could find some.

I had an area in mind, one I didn't know particularly well and hadn't yet fished this season but had produced a fish or two this time last year. This was an area I'd had in mind on my last visit and for some reason I fancied my chances there today. By 8am I was in position, a Pollan cast towards the reeds, a Mackerel was fished upwind in open water while I Lamprey and Bluey were fanned out downwind. Amongst the Christmas madness at last a fix of fresh air, peace, countryside and maybe even a fish or two. For now it was just a case of making a brew, sitting back comfortably and waiting.

After only fifteen minutes or so, with the flask held precariously a bait runner purred, my Mackerel was moving. I wound down and on connection a fish thrashed noisily on the surface, then dived putting a nice bend in the rod. After that it was just a case of pumping back a nice solid weight towards the boat, the fish did little, soon a nice big head became visible near the net and within moments she was mine. Long and lean, in mint condition, my best of the season so far, bootiful! Into the sladle, unhooked without fuss, weighed, a quick photo then back in the water. The mackerel was recast, the tea was still warm and tasted great.

Twenty minutes later I was thinking about moving the Pollan when it started moving off on its own. Once again I pulled into a nice fish which pulled harder than the first but turned out to be smaller. Still a good fish though, admired for a moment then released. Over the years I've spent days here without seeing the float moved which makes the days when you find fish so much sweeter. Where there's one, there's often a few more. Would I complete the hat trick? Shortly after I had a strange experience, all around was bright blue sky except for one dark grey cloud. This was directly above and dumping light rain on top of me. At least I was treated to a rainbow.
Immaculate

After a quiet ninety minutes it was time for a move but where? I decided to stay in the general area so lifted the mud weights and travelled about 60 metres upwind, far enough to ensure all four baits would be fishing in new water. The rods were carefully spread out as before, the Pollan now popped up and twitched back towards the boat. The other rods were kept on the move too.
There were two “events” of this move but only the first actually concerned fishing, I glanced at the float above the bluey and noticed a flat patch on the surface caused by oil. This sometimes happens when a Pike chomps the bait and can be followed by a travelling float but this time it didn't occur. However there was another oil patch a minute or so later and it seemed to be in the wrong place, upwind as opposed to downwind. Very odd. When I wound that rod in the bait had gone? Had a fish picked up the bluey, somehow avoided the hooks (cast off?) and moved off with it? I'll never know.

The second event concerned a yacht. I noticed it coming towards me, his course seemed to indicate he was following the reedline and would pass harmlessly by. On the front of the yacht the obviously cheerful occupant had placed a good sized Christmas tree. Whether or not this obscured his view I don't know but all of a sudden it was apparent that he was heading straight for one of my lines. I was too slow and the line got caught up by which time the yacht was so close I barely had to raise my voice.
“You've picked up my line mate” I called
“Sorry” came the reply “there's nothing I can do, they're invisible...” He didn't consider stopping for a second.
“Invisible? With a bloody great orange float ?” I asked but got only a mumbled response.
I don't normally get 'involved' with the often selfish boaters I encounter, I usually just get on with it but this guy's 'don't give a shit' attitude got up my snout. I hung on the rod and luckily it came free, no harm done and after checking the line decided now was a good time for a move.

Invisible?

This time I travelled back downwind, beyond my original starting point and dropped into a slightly shallower area. By now the sun was obscured by cloud more often than not and with the forecast North easterly wind it felt chilly. The rods were spread again, two towards the reeds and two in open water. I stayed like this for an hour or so before another move where I concentrated on the open water. My belly was filled with a fry up and washed down with a cuppa but unfortunately no fish intruded on my meal. During the day it had become evident that the engine wasn't running quite right so I decided to get off the water in the early afternoon. I didn't fancy being out on the water, in the dark with no engine.

The journey home was brightened by listening to the football on local radio, Town actually won for a change. Another hour to kill, thoughts going through my head. At the beginning of the autumn the mornings had been quiet with all the fish coming after noon however, on my last two successful visits the action had all been in the first ninety minutes. No sooner do we notice a pattern then it changes. A spell of cold weather will change things for sure, if it stays cold for a while it will get tough. Here's hoping for mild weather when I make it out again, whenever that may be.

Rainbow

Stir Crazy

Prior to my most recent trip I had a look through my fishing diaries and discovered that I'd gone ten consecutive trips to my favourite place without a blank, dating back to 4th January this year. Although I haven't caught anything to go mad about I was pretty pleased wth this consistency and there were a few good fish along the way. Obviously with all this back patting going on I was due for a fall from grace. Not only was my last visit a blank, (Fishing the same methods in the places that had produced for me recently) it later turned into an unprecedented disaster of which I will say no more...for now at least. Richard has managed to catch a few in the mean time but the bigger fish have eluded him too. In general, at the moment we're finding fish but not the ones we're after.

A couple of weeks with no fish and no fishing has got me climbing the walls a bit so I feel the need to rant here for a bit. In truth there have been times when I could have gone after a Pike or two close to home but I just can't get motivated to fish waters that don't inspire me. There is a very good chance of catching a big Pike from the waters local to me but almost all of them are places I have fished in the past. Most can be crowded and as I get older I definitely get more anti social, I go fishing to get away from people and just can't be bothered having the same conversation with a dozen different dog walkers. One of the advantages to boat fishing that gets mentioned least. Maybe I should try fishing for something else, there are some decent Chub locally that don't really get fished for? Right now they just don't float my boat (!) either. At some point life will be less hectic and then I'll probably find a will and a way.

The angling forums can be a diversion but at the moment these are full of rubbish too, however there have been a couple of posts lately asking “Why join the PAC?” The question should really be “Why not?” Apart from the social side; regional meetings with guest speakers, fish-ins, annual convention etc. the club campaigns for the protection of Pike and the rights of the Pike angler. Over the years the club has tackled everything; bait bans, Pike culls, access to fisheries, environmental campaigns And rehoming Pike. When I first fished for Pike you weren't a proper Piker unless you were a member of PAC, however it strikes me that through necessity the club was more radical, maybe more confrontational back then. I wonder if it would gain more support if it was like that today? Perhaps this might marginalise the club politically but there may come a day when there is no choice.

Another one of the many reasons for joining is Pikelines magazine and the autumn edition which dropped on the doormat recently was a great read. There is an interview with Neilson Baxter who is making some phenomonal catches of Scottish Pike. Neilson apparently enjoys “privilidged” access on one or two waters but it's obvious that the guy is totally dedicated, works hard for his fish and absolutely loves Pike. I think that the majority of Pikers, given the same circumstances would do exactly the same. The main theme for this issue is river Piking with interesting reads from David Wolsencraft Dodds on fly fishing, not something that really appeals to me but I enjoyed the article. Also Phil Kirk wrote a piece about tackling the River Trent. The closest I've come to this river is walking over it on the way to the Trent Bridge cricket ground. Another good read with some cracking photos.

I've shared a pint or three with Rob Shallcroft over the years and here is a guy who knows his rivers backwards and is a very succesful river Piker. He's written regularly for the magazine and it's always first class stuff, his latest article “Queens, aquariums and the urban bingo” is a gem and the pick of the bunch. It is obvious that Rob is speaking from the heart with real experience and he has the nack of getting his message across. The main photo accompanying it is really different and in its way spectacular. The rivers that Rob fishes are a world away from the ones I call home, they could hardly be more different. One of these days...

Bill Winship is another regular contributor but not one I've always read with conviction. He begins with the words “There are lots of things to be grateful for about living in Yorkshire...” And ends with “...a magical experience unique to winter time and unique to Yorkshire”. I don't think Bills experiences are as “unique” as he believes and sorry Bill but God isn't a Yorkshireman. I definately don't share Bill's view that “lures are 90% less effective in winter” not in my experience anyway but then again I haven't used a Devon Minnow in about thirty years. There were some interesting thoughts on bait though.

Time is short this weekend and the weather forecast is grim. Here's hoping I can fit in a day in the boat.
River Pike caught in winter on a Jerkbait fish shallow.