Good stuff

Their can hardly be an angler anywhere that doesn't know the name 'Mick Brown, thanks largely to his TV career. However us Pike anglers have known of Mick for a lot longer, I think I first became aware of the name in 1986? with his contribution to “Pike, the predator becomes the prey”. One of the finest Pike books ever written in my opinion. Mick's first book “Practice and the Passion” was a bloody good read and more recently the books he's produced with Fox, although heavy on advertising, contain first class information. We Pikers all know Mick as 'one of us', a pukka Piker and an incredibly successful one at that!

This years PAC convention saw Mick unveil his latest book “Professional Pike angler”. This book was very well received, in fact so much so Mick had sold out by the time I got round to seeing him. Thankfully I received a copy by mail order shortly afterwards so didn't miss out. So far I hadn't heard one single negative comment about the book, many were raving about it so I couldn't wait to dip in.

To put it bluntly I think this is one of the very best books I've read on the subject. I've read it once quickly and it demands to be read again, slowly and thoroughly, some time soon. Mick has put across his thoughts on Pike behaviour, learned from years of experience in all types of water and done so in a way that is easy to read. Unlike some others he is able back up his theories with evidence, observations, facts and photographs. Each chapter the ideas are illustrated through anecdotes; stories of successful days, observations and the thought processes of a successful Piker. I found it fascinating.

There is very little 'technical stuff', for example rigs, descriptions and diagrams are notably absent but as the author says, there are plenty of publications that include these and I was happy to live without them. I was really interested in Mick's thoughts about deadbaits and 'scent trails' as this is something I work on in my own fishing. Livebaiting, prebaiting, trolling, lure fishing, bank fishing and boat fishing, it's all covered in the same depth and in the same way. MB tells us how he thinks the Pike is behaving, why it's behaving that way and his reasons for the theory. With his record, the reader has to take notice. The “Sea Pike” chapter is inspiring, adventurous stuff that really made me want to travel... However, right now fly fishing for Pike isn't something that gets me excited despite Mick's enthusiasm. I wasn't as interested in the media/work side of Mick's fishing career but that's something I don't aspire to anyway.

The book is nicely laid out and is full of photos of Pike of all sizes, one major advantage of Mick's media career is the vast library of pictures he has to choose from. Some of these photos are awe inspiring, others simply stunning and there is literally colour on just about every page. Mick Brown “Professional Pike angler” is a damn good read and is highly recommended. It retails at £28 plus P&P and is available from http://www.mickbrownangling.com/Shop2011.html

While I'm recommending things, an item of kit that no boat angler should be without is the “Sladle” from Eddie Turner Specialist tackle. How do I describe the sladle? It's designed by an experienced boat angler, Simon Lambard. Well it has two adjustable rigid poles that stretch across the boat. Suspended from these is a 'pike friendly' cradle. When I have a Pike in the net I fold it down and place mesh, arms and Pike into the sladle. Now the fish is totally enclosed, suspended above the deck and cannot come to any harm. The fish can then be comfortably unhooked without any chance of it thrashing about on the deck. The sladle can be used as a weigh sling too but I found it a bit cumbersome. This year ETST brought out a separate weigh sling that fits nicely inside the sladle, I drop the landing net straight into this and usually slide the fish out of the net and into the sling. Once the unhooking is done simply zip up the sides and lift the sling containing the Pike out of the sladle for weighing. Finally both sladle and sling are suitable for retaining a Pike for a short while, over the side of the boat, should the need arise.

http://www.eddieturner.co.uk/pike-tackle/Weigh-Bags-and-Pike-Protection/The-Sladle-1.html

Imaginative title "Pike in Sladle"

The Sladle is a unique piece of kit in the field of Pike angling or indeed boat angling. It's designed to keep the Pike safe from harm throughout the time it spends out of the water and it does just that. I spend most of my time fishing in a boat, alone and I wouldn't be without a sladle. In fact I'd urge every boat angler to have one, it's in the fish's best interests after all. Available from Eddie Turner specialist tackle. http://www.eddieturner.co.uk/pike-tackle/Weigh-Bags-and-Pike-Protection/The-Sladle-1.html
You guessed it..."Pike in weigh sling, in sladle"

Was that summer?

Where does the time go? It dawned on me that almost a month had past since I last wet a line. In that time the summer party season has still been in full swing, I've been emotionally involved in watching England become officially the best cricket team in the world and I've been rigging up a new boat, with help from Rich. Apart from that I've been in a kind of limbo. My mind is on Pike fishing but it's still too early. I still have my Carp/Tench kit ready in the shed but I don't have any enthusiasm for this type of fishing. However this past weekend I felt the pull of the water side and just had to spend a few hours down by the lake, any lake but what should I fish for? In the end I decided to hedge my bets.

I arrived at 'the marsh' at around 1530 on a blustery autumn afternoon, there was only one other angler present, bivvied up on the far side. The sky was mainly bright but the fresh westerly wind was pushing clouds across and the forecast threatened rain. I picked a swim in the teeth of the wind and began by setting up a boilie rod. I fished a 'Chod' rig and pop up cast a short way to a point in the reeds and baited the area with around 500gm of 10mm boilies. My second rod was a float set up with a waggler fishing sweetcorn on the lake bed in front of some dying lilies. This area was baited with 'Green Carp mix' made by Lake Wizard, to the mix I added half a tin of corn. It was inevitable that I would catch Rudd and Roach so I had decided to embrace this and try to catch the blighters. Maybe a Tench would move into the area, who knows?

As I was setting up a Heron flapped noisily into the Lily pads opposite me, hopefully we'd both have a little luck with the fish this afternoon? The float began dipping and moving straight away, as expected. I kept striking and missing but eventually hooked a couple of small Rudd. These fish were obviously intercepting the corn as it sunk. A little adjustment of the shot and I was able to avoid these critters. While I was doing this I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye, something on the surface, 'what the hell is that?' I wondered. It was a snake, a Grass snake I assume and a very rare but welcome sight. The animal swam across the front of my swim, paused amongst the lilies for a rest before going off again and disappearing amongst the bankside vegetation.

Look carefully, that's a snake

The shotting change worked, bites became irregular but when I connected the fish were a better size, Rudd and roach of 4 to 8 ounces. Why can I never get enough of these when the Pike season starts?? The weather was pleasant and I sat comfortably in my chair with cricket on the radio, TMS my regular companion painting the picture of a tight game. Away to the south dark clouds were dropping rain on someone but I admired the resultant rainbow. The boilie rod was absolutely silent but the float dipped regularly enough to keep me on my toes. I was going to say 'keep me interested' but to be honest, I was in danger of being bored. This kind of fishing doesn't hold my attention unless there's the chance of something substantial taking my bait. Yes there was that chance but I just didn't feel it was going to happen.

With all those Rudd and Roach kicking around in the net and a spare rod laying in the holdall it was only a matter of time...I couldn't resist! Float, traces, lead and link. A paternoster rig was born, baited with one of the smaller Rudd and gently swung out into the deeper water beyond the pads. The bait was lively and kept the float bobbing and dipping which renewed my interest but as the time ticked round it appeared this wasn't going to work either. It just wasn't going to be my day. Then it's been that kind of summer, the effort I've put in has been sporadic as have been the results. I haven't enjoyed the fishing at the Marsh as much this year, early season it was just too crowded. I haven't really fished the place as effectively as I could/should have either. Shall I give the place another go next season? Probably, one last season. Elsewhere I caught plenty of Carp from 'The Puddle' but I only went here as light relief when the Marsh had proved hard going, which was often to be honest!

The sun was dipping and a full moon had risen away to the east. I packed up the float rod before it became too dark and then reluctantly tidied up first the boilie rod then the livebait. I always hate packing up, even when the fishing hasn't been riveting. This time I was packing up not just for the day but for the summer season. Soon it will be Pike time and for a variety of reasons I've decided that very little of it will be blogged, not this year at least. To pretentiously quote the Prodigy from “Music for the Jilted Generation”

“I've decided to take my work back underground, to stop it falling into the wrong hands...”

Summer Holiday

Early August, the family and I head off on holiday, Wessex bound. The draw is beautiful scenery, wildlife, walking, interesting cities, for the others shopping and for me the chance to have another go at catching Barbel in their natural wild river environment. As I've said before, stillwater Barbel don't count!

Anyway, a day of driving was followed by a walk in the wild woods where we saw many species of birds including, most impressively Buzzards soaring high over head. These were soon upstaged by the Deer we saw scampering through the trees after being alerted by Isaac. Home for the week was a small converted barn which at some point in it's history had been used for making cider. Shelley was disappointed that there was none left behind but not disappointed by the quality of the local brews! After a couple of days I couldn't resist the lure of the river that lay at the bottom of the hill. An exploratory wander revealed the water was low and clear but I managed to find a spot that I felt gave me a chance of a fish, despite my almost total lack of Barbel fishing experience.

So bright and early on the Monday morning I made my way down to the river and commenced fishing in an area that was slightly deeper than the shallows that surrounded it but still retained a decent pace to it. The river was still gin clear and carrying an annoying amount of drifting weed but not enough to make fishing impossible. After a while I worked out how to keep two rods in the water and fish effectively. My downstream rod consisted of a leger with a long hooklength baited with two 10mm fishmeal boilies and a PVA bag of Halibut pellets. This was cast just to the edge of the faster flowing water. The other rod was also baited with a couple of boilies but on this I fished a feeder filled with Hemp which rolled round with the current, methods I'd learnt last year.

The early morning period saw hazy mist rolling down the river but this soon burnt off leaving a mostly bright day punctuated but a couple of short sharp showers. I recast the Hemp rod regularly but let the pellet rod fish for itself mostly. It was a pleasant morning on the river with only the bird life for company but it lacked the most important thing, fish! After a few hours of catching nothing it was hard to remain confident without any experience to draw on. I looked at my watch at around 0930, the kids would be well and truly on the move, time to head back to the barn. It was only when I reached the car that I noticed the “Private fishing” sign nailed to a tree at the top of the bank....

The following afternoon all four of us; Madi, Isaac, Shelley & I had a rendezvous with Rob at a stretch that was ideal for our purposes. Plenty of green space for the children to run around in, a pub nearby for sustenance and the chance of a Barbel in the river. We fished with rolling feeders baited with hemp and maggots and caught fish virtually from the off; Bleak, Dace, Chub...but the Barbel avoided us. Bites came in fits and starts, we kept the bait going in, hoping.... Rob caught the better sized Chub and a Lovely Perch...The weather was very nice, the local best bitter excellent and the company was first class. We chatted all the usual fishy stuff along with football and cricket then put the world to rights but still no Barbel appeared.

As the light faded we adjourned to another local pub for a well earned pint and introductions to another angling brother. Although I could have stayed and drank beer all evening, all too soon the children were yawning and it was time to head off. I'll be having a beer with Rob at the convention next month and the next time we fish together will probably be out here in the east after the Pike?

A couple of days passed and I still had a load of hemp fermenting in a bucket so made another early morning visit to the river. This time I fished a little further along from the stretch I'd tried on my first attempt. OK, this time I knew I shouldn't be there and this would require a little more subtlety should someone challenge me but hey, what harm was I doing?

The upstream end of my swim was shallow with water rushing through into the deeper run in front of me with swirling eddies on either bank. It looked the business, surely home to a Barbel or two? Time would tell. I fished the same methods as the first trip, PVA & pellets on the downstream 'sleeper' rod and hemp in a feeder rolling down with the current on the second. However I'd purchased a tin of sweetcorn to give me a better chance of catching any Chub that might be around. The morning was dull and gloomy, constantly threatening rain but not quite delivering. It was wonderfully quiet in the tree lined banks, only the pipping of Kingfishers zipping along the river and the mewing of ever impressive Buzzards high over head broke the silence.

Time passed. I kept feeding the hemp and rolling the feeder but the only thing I caught was rocks. These wild rivers are heavy on the tackle but I'd come prepared. I may have had the occasional slight tap on the rod tips but being unused to this style of fishing I hardly noticed. I did know that should I be lucky and a Barbel find my bait there'd be no mistaking the bite. I kept hoping...

By 1000 I'd almost run out of bait but resolved to keep on going until it was all gone. I glanced down into the clear water and noticed a cheeky Chub mopping up a few bits of corn I'd dropped before sliding off into the river again. A few minutes later it repeated the procedure and this was just too much to take. OK, it wasn't a Barbel but it was a fish of a size that made it worth catching so I dropped my bait into position and waited. A few minutes passed and the Chub appeared again, made its way to my bait, watch the quiver tip and....nothing happened...but my bait had gone??? Maybe it wasn't meant to be my day. One more go, three grains of corn on the hair, dropped into position and wait. Five minutes later and here came the Chub again, this time I didn't rely on the quiver tip. I watched the fish approach my bait, the bait disappeared, I struck and the fish was on! After a short fight on a stiff rod the fish was brought to the net. By no means a monster but big enough to put a smile on my face.

I loaded the feeder with the last of the hemp and stuffed the hook/hair with a load of corn. Would one last cast bring me the Barbel I craved? The answer was no but if anything the drive to catch another is even stronger than it was a year ago. That evening was the last of our holiday so the family and I took a stroll along another stretch of this beautiful river, saying goodbye. It occurred to me only then the things I could have done a little differently to give myself another chance...I'll be back next year.

A few days later we were back home. Shelley and I took a long walk along a stretch of my local river. I wondered how Barbel would fair in this river but I fear the answer would be badly. Two years ago I wrote about the demise of this little river through abstraction and neglect http://fishingsgreat.blogspot.com/2009/09/nostalgia.html now things are even worse . No flow, painfully shallow and choked to strangulation point by weed. I really fear for the future of this waterway, it's bloody criminal.

Party season

Towards the end of a hot summer day, Shelley & I arrived at the 'pretty puddle' for an evening chilling out by the lake. This is actually the first time I've been fishing in almost six weeks. Firstly lack of success saw my Tench fishing at 'the Marsh' just run out of steam. In hindsight I made loads of mistakes, I fished it all wrong but I'll have another crack next spring and won't make the same mistakes again. Secondly summer time is party time, there is only so much leisure time available so something has to give. I've spent many happy days and nights in the company of some of my favourite people; Parties, BBQ's, music festivals, cricket matches, eating and drinking too much. It's been a busy time, spice of life.

Anyway tonight I just wanted to chill out in a shady waterside place and put a bend in the rod. We settled in a large comfortable swim in one of the bays and I began feeding chum mixers which were soon being slurped down by greedy Carp. After almost an entire summer of being hammered these fish are a lot more wary than they were earlier in the year. Getting a take requires a lot more patience but to be honest it's nowhere near as frustrating as the floater fishing I used to do in years gone by. Here you know the fish will make a mistake sooner or later.

Shelley began fishing with a floating bait on a powerful whip. I'm not a lover of pole fishing for Carp as I've seen the damage done to Carp's mouths by bullying them into the net on these things. Shelley would not be hurrying to drag the fish in, the elastic would be allowed to do it's job. I had a rod set up to freeline a floater but to begin with I was just content to feed the swim, watch and wait. However, when a Carp began taking baits from literally beneath my feet, I couldn't resist dropping a bait on it. This was taken almost immediately and I found myself attached to a fish that pulled my arms off in an attempt to escape...but didn't. The fish was a nicely coloured Mirror but had half it's tail missing, a battered dorsal fin and a mouth that was ripped to pieces. My views on irresponsible match fishing for Carp are hardening....

After that the fishing became harder. Small groups of Carp would move into the swim, slurp a few floaters down and then move out again. At this stage of the season they have developed the nack of ignoring the bait with the hook in. Still the evening was warm and pleasant and we were chilling out in a nice place. Shame the two idiots fishing in the next bay weren't a little quieter and a lot less dramatic. However it became easier to tune them out as time went by.

The next action came to Shelley, a nice little common hooked on a floater. The whip was handled nicely, the elastic allowed to do it's job and after a few patient minutes the Carp was coaxed into the net. At around seven pounds possibly a personal best for Shelley? I decided to sneak out an extra rod, fishing a pop up boilie and a PVA bag of pellets. This eventually produced the next fish of the night, a small common. I'm sure I'm not imagining it, baits fished on the bottom seem to catch the smaller fish at this place.

As the light slowly faded the Carp became more confident feeding on the surface. A bait swung under the over hanging trees would be taken with confidence almost every time and I landed more than I lost. By the time it was too dark to see the bait my total was up to four or was it five? All were commons of 3 to 6 pounds. Sadly more than half of the fish landed tonight showed signs of damage caused by bad angling practice.

By nine o'clock it was too dark to see our baits so we packed in for the night. It was nice to be fishing again after a long lay off. This type of easy fishing gives instant gratification but would never hold my attention for long. Next week I'll hopefully be trying my hand at something more challenging in wild waters. After that it'll be time to start preparing for the real thing.

Misguided ??

I needed a reminder of what catching a fish actually feels like so when the opportunity to have a couple of hours at the easy place (AKA Pretty puddle)materialised it was too good to resist. I arrived in the late afternoon on a bright and breezy day but was disappointed to find the place was ram jam packed. It crossed my mind to go home right then. There had evidently been a match but thankfully it appeared to have just finished as people were packing up. I had a walk around and was relieved to find a few areas without brightly coloured boxes and bits of carbon fibre laying around. Thankfully there were areas of the lake that hadn't been hammered today, one was a bay I'd not yet fished with a nice looking overhanging tree to provide cover. This would do me so now it was just a case of waiting for the matchmen to bugger off.

All too slowly the matchmen weighed in and departed. It's amazing to me that they ever catch anything with the amount of noise they make. I suppose to them it's all friendly banter but the language involved made me glad my children hadn't come fishing with me. Oh yes I can curse with the best of them but I try not to when my kids are around. I watched a couple of anglers weigh in. I know there are people who get too precious when it comes to “fish welfare” but I'm sure a blind throw over the shoulder isn't the best way to return a skimmer Bream. This same group insists on the barbless hook rule on grounds of 'fish welfare' but I and many others are convinced that a barbless hook actually does more damage. This is especially so if an ultra stiff carbon pole is used to pull a thrashing fish over a landing net in double quick time. I'm not anti matches or a match anglers, I'm sure most are sensible people who are good at what they do but this lot...It struck me that these people were a poor advert for the sport of angling, luckily this water is on private land with no access to the general public.

By 1700 I was fishing with two rods and happily had the lake to myself. I cast a method feeder across to the overhanging trees opposite me, this was baited with a 15mm pop up boilie on a short, stiff hooklength. My second rod was a float rod, fished slightly over depth and baited with fake corn & maize. This was cast to a snaggy area to my right. To begin with all was very quiet, had the noise and hammering put the fish off? After a while a few Carp began to show on the surface. I usually prefer to catch these fish on bottom rigs, I suppose it gives me confidence that the methods work when I fish 'The Marsh'. However today I just wanted to catch by any means possible so broke down the float rig and instead tied a size 12 hook straight onto the mainline. I began feeding a few chum mixers and soon had a few fish moving on the surface. On my first cast with a freelined floater, after about ten seconds, a Carp slurped it down. Within a couple of minutes a small common was bullied into the net.

After a slow start I began to get a few fish interested. Firstly on the floaters, a pretty little mirror followed by a nice, torpedo shaped common that was easily into double figures but I couldn't be bothered to weigh it. After that I got more action on the method feeder with a succession of little commons that were like peas in a pod. There were still fish interested in the floaters but they were a little finicky and moved in and out of the swim. At one point I was playing a fish hooked on the floater when the method feeder screamed off. I bundled the first fish into the net but by this time the other was long gone. For years I've always played fish by back winding but here I was experimenting with playing fish off the clutch. It felt weird to begin with but with a decent reel, unlike the Mitchell 300's I grew up with, in theory the clutch should be better??

Time was passing quickly and I really ought to have been going but I told myself 'just one more fish'. That last fish is always a lot more tricky than all the others and so it proved. Eventually a floater was sucked down and I set the hook into a Carp that tore across the bay taking line off the clutch. The rod was hooped over and I was in no doubt that this was the biggest fish I'd hooked all evening by a distance. There are a few Carp in this water that are big by any ones standards and this felt like one of them. I hung on for a minute or so as the clutch made noises but just as I felt I was gaining control the hook pulled out. Bugger!! Actually the words I really used would have made the matchmen blush. Should have tried to back wind??

That was it for the night. I quickly bundled the gear into the back of the car and hit the road. I'd enjoyed myself, it was nice to have a few fish that pulled back, nice to have a bend in the rod and nice to be driving home feeling that I'd achieved what I'd set out to. Well almost...

Indecision

It's been over a month since I've been able to spend any more than a few hours at the Marsh buthere at last was a free weekend. The day before I'd taken a bit of a detour and had a quick look around. There were a few anglers about as usual but the swim I'd fished last time out was empty. If this remained the case the following day I'd be happy to fish there.

At home on the Saturday morning, I took my time boiling up some seed mix and slowly getting things ready. Friday had been wet, wet, wet (with no connection to that truly awful pop band) but Saturday was mainly bright and dry albeit with the occasional shower. There was a stiff south westerly breeze too, keeping the temperature a little lower than it should be at this time of year.

I arrived in the early afternoon expecting to find the car park full as usual but there was only one other angler on the lake and he was fishing an area I didn't fancy. All my previously made plans went out of the window as I was spoilt for choice. I took a slow stroll around but couldn't make up my mind. I noticed the other angler using a bait boat to place his tackle on a spot which is otherwise impossible to fish. I suppose this is legitimate use of the dreaded bait boat but even so I can't help thinking it's kind of cheating.

Eventually I settled on a swim, one I'd christened “The Cauldron” last season due to the massive eruptions of bubbles that always occurred whenever I fished it last season. This swim covers a large bay and is full of features; overhanging trees opposite and lined with lilies. I took my time setting up, putting the rods out first then getting the bivvy organised. The weather had been a mixture of sunshine and showers, with more wet weather forecast I needed to keep my kit dry. Wind was a fresh South westerly which blew down the lake turning the water over nicely.

By 1430 I was fishing with three rods. I cast a method feeder baited with a 15mm pop up to the overhanging trees opposite then an inline rig baited with another pop up and a PVA bag of mixed pellets was dropped into a spot where the trees meet the lily pads. On my third rod I float fished fake corn and maize in front of the marginal lily pads, ground-baiting with seed mix and a bit of loose maize.

The afternoon was bright and pleasant but a bit humid with all the moisture around in the air. Once again the lake looked a picture in it's green summer suit. The only problem with my feature packed swim was which ones do I cast baits to? There are just so many places to drop a bait but eventually I devised a plan for intercepting fish moving in and out of the bay. The overhanging trees opposite would be a natural bottleneck for fish entering the bay so I'd keep a bait here and bait it up with a load of 10mm boilies. This would be a difficult cast after dark (NO to a bait boat) so if, heaven forbid I had a take I'd drop it onto the margin spot which I'd been baiting with seed mix. The other rod I'd fish to the pads at the bottom of the bay, a comfortable cast at any time. How I approached things the following morning would depend on how the night went.

The afternoon passed without a fish of any sort showing any interest. I'd hoped to while away the time by listening to the cricket on TMS but rain was affecting play down south. In the early evening rain swept over the lake too but luckily I was well prepared for it, my cheap & cheerful bivvy is surprisingly waterproof. While the rain came down I took the opportunity to enjoy a brew and a fry up in the comfort.

Once the showers had blown over I was treated to sunshine again and I enjoyed the scene before me. Warblers of some description (probably reed warblers???) darted amongst the Norfolk reeds, a Kingfisher zipped across the bay landing on a dead branch for a perch. A family of ducks took residence in my swim but made baiting up difficult. Around 2030 I got everything sorted for the night as planned. The inline rig landed bang on position by the overhang, who needs a bait boat? I continued to use the float rod to fish the margins and kept a constant trickle of feed going in. Every so often the bubbles that give 'the cauldron' it's name would erupt. Last year these would drive me mad as I was sure a Tench or Carp would pick my bait up at any second. Now I've sussed that most of the time it's shoals of silver fish moving onto the feed in the silty bottom. As if to prove my point I had a twitchy take on the method feeder around 2100 which resulted in a Rudd of about 4ozs hooked fairly in the mouth...on a 15mm pop up!!! This is no longer funny!

This is no longer funny!

I continued fishing the float rod until it became too dark and being mid June it was passed ten o'clock by this time. As the light faded two mice scurried around my feet, tidying up spilt bait. Everything was sorted for the night so I decided to get into the kip back and get my head down. The night was cloudy and mild but thankfully dry. The fresh wind didn't seem to drop at any point. For some reason sleep didn't come easily. I kept drifting in and out and kept getting short pulls on the method feeder rod but no definite takes. The dawn chorus commenced in the reeds around me at about 0230 which didn't help either.

Eventually I dozed off for a couple of hours, waking again in growing light at 0430. This was a good time for fresh bait so I recast the method feeder across to the overhanging tree and dropped the inline rig close to the pads in front of me. I changed the bait on this rod to Maize, balanced with fake corn and topped the groundbait up before climbing back into the kip back. Surely I'd be woken up by a screaming take and a nice fat Tench?

View from the front door

My anticipated alarm call didn't occur. At 0745 I was awake once more, realisation dawning that once again, my best chance of a Tench had been and gone. I woke myself up with a brew and a fried breakfast. While the sausages were sizzling I recast both rods, the method feeder landed perfectly by the tree again. I tried to tell myself I was still in with a shout, for an hour or two anyway.

By 1030 I was loading the car, another blank recorded. Bloody lake, there;s no bloody fish left, the bloody Otters have eaten them all!!! Of course this isn't true. There a few very big Tench and some decent Carp in there, it's just me, I can't catch them!! Back to the drawing board!!!

Excuses?

I hadn't had the time or opportunity to go fishing for far too long! I didn't really have the time this weekend either but I needed my fix. For days I've been feeling unwell, 'sinusitis' isn't very nice, headaches and congestion, keeps me up at night. Somehow I managed to drag myself out of bed and down to the Marsh for an early morning after the Tench.

I arrived with mist still rising from a lake bathed in weak morning sunlight. A Green Woodpecker laughed as it flew across the water, was it trying to tell me something? For once there was just one other angler at the lake, this would have been normal twelve months ago but alas no more. I settled in a swim on the Northern bank with the southerly wind in my face. To my left is a large reed bed, I cast a method feeder baited with a pop up boilie in front of this and on a second rod another pop up with a PVA bag of pellets close by, at the bottom of the marginal shelf. The plan was to leave the pop up in place but recast the method feeder every now and then, depending on how things went. On a third rod I float fished sweetcorn beside a bed of lily pads close by. This area was baited with a few free offerings of corn plus a couple of handfuls of mixed pellets every now and then.

It was a beautiful morning, sunny with a comfortable temperature and a nice breeze in my face. The Marsh is now in the full green of summer, trees, reeds and lilies, dotted with yellow flowers just opening. I'd deliberately avoided putting out large quantities of groundbait, just little piles of feed that could be topped up as and when, if feeding fish should happen to wander through the swim. Unfortunately I didn't get through too much bait today, just a couple of half hearted pulls and the occasional momentary dip of the float. I'm still struggling to get my head around the Tench's habits in this water, more so this season than last. Twelve months ago, even if I wasn't catching I'd often see tell tail signs, fish rolling or bubbling, not so this year.

I keep hearing the same thing from other anglers on the lake; “Tench fishing is slow this year...” and apparently this season it's worse than ever. I also keep hearing anglers complaining about the number of Otters around these days, maybe the two topics are linked? I saw an Otter at the Marsh a year ago but I've never seen any evidence of wide scale fish kills. I haven't known the water long enough to make comparisons to years gone by however. Last week there was a report on local TV news about habitat improvements designed to make life easier for otters in the Fenlands. Hot on the heels of this followed calls by anglers, (TV 'star' John Wilson included), for action on the 'Otter problem'.

A decade ago it was the Cormorant that was getting the blame for all the ills in angling, in many cases this was for good reason too. Nowadays anglers like to point the finger at immigrant anglers fishing for food and most recently the Otter. We do like to have a ready made excuse for poor fishing but in all cases there is an element of truth. What we need is real evidence as to just how bad the perceived problem is in reality but this type of information will always be difficult to collate.

On balance I think there could well be an 'Otter problem' but calls for a cull are misguided. We'll never win over the opinions of the non angling majority if we start shooting at anything with fur and a face (except perhaps Bill Oddie). Maybe for a few years angling will have to take the hit and face the pain of 'Otter damage' but surely nature will find a balance eventually and Otter numbers will even out? Some fisheries will be forced to erect fences to keep the otters out, this may be expensive but must be seen as an investment. As things stand now, for my liking there are too many Otters about on the waters I fish, I'd like to see their numbers reduced but there's nothing I can do about it. Is the reason I can't catch those bloody Tench? Who knows? It's a bloody good excuse though!

Time passed too quickly, the other angler fishing was already packing up and I hadn't seen him catch anything. I kept looking at my watch, hoping time would slow down but it had the opposite effect. All of a sudden the alarm was sounding and a bobbin was jumping, something was making off with the boilie on the method feeder. I wound down to no resistance but there was something on the end...surely not? Yes, another bloody Roach! Another anti climax, I couldn't help but laugh!

The river season starts in an hour or two but right at this moment I have no plans to fish moving water. I have a bit more free time coming up so will stubbornly continue to pursue those elusive Tench for a week or two.