Shivering

Here on an English spring Sunday the temperature is -2 and we have several inches of snow on the ground with more falling, it’s bloody horrible.  I’m usually pretty relaxed about the weather, we get what we get and it’s mostly shit but this winter has gone on forever, it’s become oppressive.  The Sunday newspapers report it is the longest winter for fifty years.  I can’t wait for spring, even ten degrees will feel like a heat wave and people will be smiling again.

It has snowed for the last 36 hours, the temperature outside here at 10:26 is -2*C yet still I sit here with an urge to go fishing.  I’m not going to go, that would be madness but still a snow fish photo is tempting and the landscape looks lovely with this covering of white stuff.  However it’s just so bloody cold that it’s painful to exposed skin and it just wouldn’t be fun.  Instead I stayed in the warm, listened to music, wrote stuff and got ready to go out gigging tonight.  Off to London with Giles and meeting up with Rob, Piking friends in the smoke to see “Wire” at a club near the river.  Despite a few mishaps which go with the territory we had a top night but by God it was cold crossing the river.

Ian Chillcott is one of the better Carpy writers and is another angler who isn’t afraid to speak his mind about things, Otters being one example and he’s right!  Although I have little interest in Carpy politics I tend to support the reasons he founded ECHO, it made sense to me.  However I can’t agree with his opinion in the latest issue of Carpology magazine, that ECHO is the “most influential single species group ever formed”.  Sorry Ian but that accolade has to go to the Pike Anglers Club of Great Britain which has been in the trenches for over 35 years and despite the occasional hiccup along the way, is now as active and relevant as ever. 

In East Anglia John Currie, Mickey Cox and all involved with the Norwich region have achieved what we all thought was impossible in getting the Broads Authority to stop, listen, think and review their dredging procedures on the Broads.  I’m happy to give the BA credit for this too, fair enough considering the slagging I gave them a year ago.  The Cambridge branch has long been successful under a succession of RO’s, most recently Wes & Jonno.  I’ve been to several packed, friendly rooms for a top speaker at Bottisham.  In Suffolk Jason Skilton is reviving the region and teaming up with Sean Ellis from Essex to help Pikers negotiate the future of fishing at Abberton reservoir.  This kind of thing and much more goes on all over Great Britain as it has since 1977.

More Information on these PAC regions here.

http://www.pikeanglersclub.co.uk/about-the-pac/regional-associations-contacts/

A day later the end of the cold weather is still not in sight, who knows when I’ll get back out on the bank or what I’ll be fishing for?  Here’s a more cheerful photo

Can we have some mild, dry weather please?

And so it came to the last weekend of a tough season.  It’s been grim North and East winds and cold, raw weather for weeks on end but by now it was raining.  The weekend forecast was equally grim, basically more of the same but getting even colder.  By the time I launched in the evening it had been raining for hours but I was undeterred.  On the water easily and after the darkest crossing I can remember I tucked myself away out of the wind for a few hours fishing with TMS cricket on the radio.  England fought back nicely in the test but no Pike disturbed me so I wound the rods in and crashed out for a few hours.

Awake before dawn, it was still raining and very gloomy.  I chucked the rods out again while I boiled the kettle and tidied the boat.  The light was just growing when one of my rods rattled off.  I set the hooks but there was little resistance still any Pike is welcome and a lean jack was unhooked easily.  This bonus fish saw no change of plan, as soon as I was ready I knew where I wanted to be.  A little journey on the engine and I was soon dropping four baits into a favourite place.  An Otter circled the boat only a few feet away hissing in my direction, I didn’t feel welcome.

However, previous experience told me I was in with a good chance in this general area.  The day drifted by with a couple of short moves but no Pike.  I kept active, twitching baits and trying to make something happen but nothing did.  It was still absolutely pissing down and the water was rising visibly.  It was high time for a rethink and a change of plan, a proper move was in order.  Only it would have been if the engine had obliged me by starting!  Which it didn’t.

The immediate forecast was manageable but a strong easterly and possibly snow was predicted for the following day.  No bravado this time (that’s another story…), the only sensible choice was to row back closer to base and get the boat in a sheltered position.  Easier said than done as most of the journey was against a freshening wind and the bloody rain (from which I now had no shelter), was unrelenting.   I arrived soaked to the skin through rain and sweat, I was totally knackered.  I chucked the rods out and made a brew then sat back to assess the situation.  Light was fading, I was getting colder, I was wet and uncomfortable but it was no longer raining.  It had in fact begun to snow. After a brief flurry of sleet it began properly snowing.  At this point I knew I was beaten for the day and for the season.  I packed up with freezing, claw hands, said goodbye then rowed back to the slip.

Sunday came round again and after a lazy morning I convinced Isaac it would be a good idea to venture down to the lake for a final Pike session of the season.  The weather was dull and gloomy with drizzle and a fresh southerly wind and milder temperatures than of late.  We shared three rods and fished three deadbaits along the marginal shelf.  The plan as usual was for a short session, I sat back in the chair to chill out but Isaac busied himself investigating the flooded margins.  He found an elevated position which gave him a good view of his float then discussed the possibility of building a den there but building materials were scarce.

Today the fishing wasn’t holding Isaac’s attention, the Pike have been far from prolific here this season and he’s already looking forward to catching Carp and Silver fish in warmer weather.  I kind of agree with him there…  I’ll have to get thinking of somewhere different for next seasons Pike fishing, somewhere he’ll see that float pop under a bit more often.  After some debate we reached a consensus that the Lord of the Rings films are better than Star Wars.  We also agreed it was getting cold and we’d had enough for today.  Walking back to the car I noticed a few green shoots poking through and there are snowdrops in the woods yet spring still doesn’t feel close.

When I got home I set about sorting the shed.  All the boat and most of the Pike fishing kit was put to the back and all the summer gear brought to the front.  I also discovered more evidence of the vermin that had squatted in my shed through the winter, more chewed bait boxes and an old holdall.  The poison done the trick in the end, he who laughs last…but next year, no prisoners.  I got on a roll and ended up rigging up my Carp/Tench rods and sorting all the kit out.  I’ve had enough of Piking for a while, it’s been a tough old winter that seems to have lasted about eighteen months.  Wherever I’ve fished this season it’s been challenging and Pike have been hard to find but happily I’ve found one or two of the right kind.  Now for something completely different.

Once more

Just one more weekend then my river season will be over. One more weekend of sleep deprivation, physical exertion, launching in the dark, getting covered in fish gunk, sleeping in the open air, eating out of the saucepan, getting battered by the elements, coming home knackered and generally having a fantastic time. Sometimes it’s tough and you ask yourself “why?” sometimes it’s rewarding, sometimes it’s exhilarating but it’s always beautiful.

So one more adventure afloat to go, which will bring an end to another interesting season. Once again the Pike have not behaved as expected. Plan A didn’t always work and Plan B only materialised late in the day. As ever I’ve learnt a hell of a lot and a few more ideas clicked into place. Just one more whacker to finish the season on a high please. Then six months rest before we go again…

Here's one from a year ago...

Ice caps and dirty mags...

There’s no point in trying to hurry Isaac in the mornings, as much as he’s been enjoying fishing lately he won’t be getting out of bed early! To be honest a mid-morning start suited me fine too, I rarely take the chance to have a lazy morning. When I finally stumbled out of the back door it was a bit of a surprise to see that there’d been a heavy frost overnight. No matter, the sun was out and the temperature was rising, it was a crisp clear winter’s day. The second surprise of the day occurred when we arrived at the waterside, the lake was frozen over! I pitied the poor Carp angler bivvied up, he’d have an even bigger surprise when he finally unzipped and peered out! We considered driving around and trying our luck elsewhere but it was unlikely we’d find anywhere suitable to fish so headed home disappointed.

Having reversed the timetable for the day Isaac and I returned to the lake in the early afternoon to find the ice had cleared. We dropped into a familiar swim and spread our deadbaits around. Isaac’s casting was a little rusty but after a couple of false starts he managed to place his mackerel nicely in the deep water in front of a reed bed. I fished similar methods and once settled we sat back in our chairs to wait. At least I did, Isaac was full of energy today and couldn’t sit still. He was splashing in the flooded margins, climbing in the trees and the flow of speech was nonstop. He probably scared every Pike for a mile but at least he was having fun! We stayed for a couple of hours and to be honest I didn’t feel we were ever going to catch anything. The temperature dropped quickly as the light faded and we both agreed we’d had enough. No Pike today but having achieved his target a few weeks ago, Isaac is very relaxed about catching another. He’s looking forward now to warmer weather and a different type of fishing, if the truth be known, so am I. However, there is unfinished business elsewhere…

I get to read almost all of the monthly angling publications and they are a right mixture of good, bad and indifferent. I like anecdotal writing and for this the Carp mags are miles ahead of the rest in my opinion, Carpworld and Carpology in particular are excellent. I won’t name the bad but DHP publishes its fair share. The “indifferent” covers most of the rest of the monthlies of all types. I can usually find an article or two in each mag that takes my fancy and authors such as Dave Lane, Neville Fickling, Nigel Sharp, Mick Brown, Stef Horak and Paul Forward stand out from the crowd. By their very nature magazines like “Improve your Coarse fishing” have to cover all disciplines so there will always be articles that don’t appeal to me, each to their own.

I find it hard to take some authors seriously because they just don’t have the experience to really understand their sport, they simply aren’t old enough. Sure these youngsters may have caught a few good fish and fair play to them for that but time on the bank over many seasons can’t be equalled. Writers need to have an ‘X factor’ and for me that X is experience. Most of these younger writers do little more than trot out the same old tired angling clichés and the poorer Carpy mags are the worst for this; “feel for the donk”, “one toner”, “I set my traps”, “trickling a bit of bait in”. and just about every fish is described as “stunning”, er… I beg to differ! I suppose many young anglers aspire to be sponsored by a leading company and splashed all over the mags, be careful what you wish for.

The thing that bugs me the most are the articles that are little more than an advertorial, rammed with plugs for products sold by the writer’s employers. I know this has been going on in the Carp and mainstream magazines for years but I now see it sneaking into Pike fishing articles, there’s a dreadful example of this by Jon Neafcy in the latest TCF. I don’t know Jon personally but I’m led to believe he’s a nice guy but c’mon!! Many of these sponsored anglers jump ship from one company to another more often than some anglers change their underwear; they lose any credibility they may have along the way. Every time I read something by a sponsored or employed angler I have to ask myself; “Do I trust what this person is saying?” Unfortunately on many occasions I don’t.

Talking of TCF there was a very poor article in the February edition, not so much for the way it was written but for the dangerous advice it was giving. The author Dan Sales, was advocating using a fluorocarbon trace for Zander fishing on a river that also holds a good head of Pike. Dan says "Lots of people will moan about a fluorocarbon link..." I won't disappoint him, people will moan with good reason, it’s totally irresponsible on this kind of fishery. Dan tells us why himself; "If I do get a Pike I rarely get a bite off…". Rarely? Surely once is too often! With all the measures anglers take to avoid leaving Carp trailing rigs does Dan Sales think it's OK to leave one in a Pike? Apparently Mr Sales has “Years of guiding on the Ebro” (according to the mag he’s 28…) but this is irrelevant in a water where Pike are present. He also recommends using ten pound mainline too which is just unnecessary and irresponsible again. I did write to the editor pointing out that this isn't good advice for a magazine to be publishing; I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t get a reply.

Sadly the nature of our sport makes it very difficult to write good articles about Pike fishing, even sadder that Pike & Predators doesn’t even seem to try these days. If the publishers really understood the sport they wouldn’t print venue guides!  Steve Rowley's "Esoxworld" is only available as an Emagazine but this proves it is possible to make a good Pike angling magazine, however I can't help thinking that somebody is missing a trick here...

So if you want to read good educational and anecdotal writing from genuine anglers who have no commercial tie ins, ulterior motives or hidden agendas, check the blog list on the right of this page.

Plan B

Should I go and take the boat out? Every weather forecast I looked at was different but the worst case scenario was -2 overnight, followed by 20mph Easterlies and a potential blizzard for the afternoon and evening. The very fact that I was undecided was the thing that made up my mind, usually I can’t wait to get out in the boat. If the forecasts are wrong I’ll be cursing.

I needed a fix of fishing so swapped the boat kit for the bank gear and made plans to fish a elsewhere. I hadn’t seen the river in daylight for a while, what state would it be in? Would the stillwaters be frozen? Of the two I fancied the latter but hedged my best and the final decision could be made in the morning.

In the shed it turned out it had not been home to a family of mice as none were caught in the traps. The culprit has to have been a rat or rats. I speak in the past tense because the poison hasn’t been eaten lately and the chewing has stopped. Last week I spoke to the guy who does the pest control at work and he told me it’s been the worst winter for rats that he’s ever known. He puts it down to the horrendous wet weather but it must have been good for business.

I set my alarm for an early start but kept hitting the snooze button, my bed was just too warm and comfortable. I think I’m turning into a Pike angler that hates the winter. I eventually staggered out, filled the flasks and set off for a destination I rarely fish but one I fancied none the less. For some reason I expected a bright, breezy morning, (I’d even packed my sunglasses) but the day was cold, murky and damp with a freshening South Easterly wind. I’d made a good decision by not roving on the river today! I settled into a swim from which I’ve caught the odd fish in the past but had the wind blowing rain and sleet right into my chops. By 0800 I had a float legered Bluey dropped at the bottom of a marginal shelf to my right and a popped up Mackerel cast along the margins to my left. My intention was to gradually twitch this bait back towards me. With rods out and net set up my pop up shelter got a rare outing, the weather was brutal and a comfortable camp was essential.

A couple of hours passed, I’d retrieved and recast the pop up rig and swapped a Herring for the Bluey on the margin rod. The discarded bait was chopped up and thrown towards the float. I’d seen no sign of any kind of fish but still felt I was in with a chance. My view was restricted by my bivvy door but I was able to enjoy watching the birdlife around me. All the usual waterside birds put in an appearance, notably the Heron, a Kingfisher and what can only have been an Egret flying over. Flocks of Long tailed Tits chirped in the trees around me and amongst them was something different. Was it another smaller species of Tit? It flew into a branch close by and stayed long enough for me to identify it, the flash on its head the giveaway, Britain’s smallest bird the Goldcrest. As usual my camera was well out of reach and the bird didn’t hang around long enough for me to get a picture.

By late morning the rain had largely passed over and conditions were a little more comfortable. The wind was pushing nicely into my area and was surely creating a nice undertow, dispersing the scents from my baits? I like using float leger rigs, particularly when using an un-weighted, bottom attached float. Despite the constant movement of the float riding the waves, when a Pike picks up the bait and the float jags, you know it’s a take straight away. This was the case at 1120 when my herring was picked up, the float stabbed then slowly slid away down the slope. I was at the rod before the line pulled out of the clip, dropped the net beside me, wound down and bent into a Pike. The rod stayed bent indicating I hadn’t hooked a jack and not knowing much about the Pike in this place it could be anything on the end? After a couple of spirited runs I soon had the fish on the surface then sliding into the net. Not the unknown monster I’d hoped for but a beautifully marked double figure fish. Bank fishing is so much less demanding than being in the boat so it was no effort to rest the fish in the net for a couple of minutes while I set the camera up for a quick self-take photo. With this achieved a nice fat fish was returned. If all the Pike in this water are this shape then who knows…?

I recast another Herring then settled back into my bivvy with a celebratory cup of tea. A result of sorts, one I’d probably have settled for when I set off this morning but where there’s one there could be more? I kept twitching the pop up rod and chucked a bit more chopped bait next to my float. The waves continued to crash into my swim and I still felt I was in with another chance but time passed, more storm clouds began to gather and I decided to beat a hasty retreat. This was not what I’d expected to be doing, going into the weekend but I’d enjoyed a bit of fishing somewhere different. The children are with me next weekend, maybe Isaac and I could have a try here or should we have another go at the Marsh?

Finally news came through earlier this week that Terry Lampard had died suddenly. Terry has to be one of the greatest all round anglers we’ve ever seen and this is a sad loss. RIP.

Impatient

Just when it began to look we were going to get away with a mild winter the snow and ice has hit with interest.  We had a large snow fall on Monday and this has been topped up with a few showers since, the temperature has hardly limped above zero so a lot of the stillwaters now have the lid on.  Right now it’s Sunday and another big dollop of the white stuff has just dropped on us, it was supposed to arrive on Friday and I was beginning to think we’d got away with it but no.  I’m sure Isaac and I could have found some water in which to wet a line but in this weather, maybe not such a good idea for a youngster.  So here I am going stir crazy wishing I was fishing…

The cold weather has been here for a little over a week and I’m fed up with it already.  What happens with the weather will have a big bearing on where I fish next week.  If all goes to plan I’ll be launching the boat but if it stays like this it will have to be closer to home.  Either way I’ve got to get out there and have a fish.

Before I wrap this up for the night may I draw your attention to the new link on the right, “Copdock Mill Angling”.  This is the day job, not just the tackle shop just south of Ipswich (loads of bargains and no better prices on bait anywhere)  but also a whole range of baits coming soon that will be available country wide.  There are more in the pipeline and these will be field tested this coming spring and summer, watch this space.

Christening

 The Christmas period saw another deluge of rain which meant the river spilled over into the surrounding fields and meadows once again. By New years day the level had dropped to within the banks again which enabled Shelley and I to take our cameras for a stroll. I debated taking a rod but in the end I didn’t bother which was probably just as well. The river was well up, coloured and bombing through. Just about fishable provided you know the stretch, in this case I didn’t as it’s one I’ve rarely fished over the years. This afternoon I was happy to just walk along and watch the water, searching for clues to help me another day. I noted a few spots I could have dropped a bait into but it would be useful to have another look some other time. By the end of our walk we were covering ground I’d never trod before. I’d heard there was a Pikey feature way upstream and today we came across it. This just has to hold a fish or two and I’ll find out another time. From here we retraced our steps and photographed the setting sun as we made our way back having covered about four miles.

Over the Xmas our house was a temporary home for a very active and noisy mouse. It wasn’t paying rent so something had to give and it met its end in a trap, job done… or so I thought. With the traps in the house that left the tackle room unguarded and when I opened the door today there was immediate signs of rodent activity. In fact the bastard thing(s) have chewed holes in two good ruck sacks as well as getting into a bucket of pellets. There may well be more damage I’ve yet to discover. I take this kind of liberty very personally and have declared war on the varmints. Two traps have been set to begin with and I want blood.

Anyway while I was uncovering this mess Isaac was eating his breakfast and getting ready to climb into the car for another trip to the lake. It’s been too long since I last wet a line and I really needed to spend some time by the water again. This would be the latest stage of the mission to christen Isaac’s Pike rod. The weather was very mild and depressingly dull with a moderate westerly wind and a little drizzle. For some reason things just felt Pikey and I felt assured today was going to be the day. We arrived at about 0900 and found the most productive swim free so wandered towards it. I expected the water level to be high but most of the swims were under water. Isaac was just able to wade out far enough without danger of the water going over the top of his size 2 wellies.

As this water is very often a “one take” lake I decided not to fish today, it was all down to Isaac. He cast ‘his’ rod, a float legered mackerel, alongside the reed bed to the right. I almost always play fish by back winding but I’d set the clutch on this rod as I figured he’d find it easier that way. The other rod was a popped up sprat which he dropped in the margin to the left. This left a large open area in front of him which he could cover with a lure rod, the same fixed spool set up I’d used a few weeks previously. This was a great way for him to practice his casting and he might even catch himself a Pike along the way. Isaac’s casting was erratic, he managed to catch trees and reeds but the improvement continues to show. After a while he grew a little tired and joined me sitting in a chair on dry land. With our lack of success so far this winter, Isaac found it hard to believe he’d ever catch a Pike here. I was more confident and once again reminded him exactly what he should do if a fish took his bait. We discussed our chances and tried to think of other convenient places locally where we might do better but avoid crowds at the same time.


After an hour or so Isaac’s attention was waning and he took a few steps along the path, peering into the flooded reedbeds. We were both abruptly alerted by a couple of beeps from an alarm. The float on Isi’s own rod was slowly moving away from the reeds towards the deeper, open water. At long last he had a take! He splashed out and picked the rod up then with me talking him through things; he wound down and swept the rod back. Fish on! At this point I realised I hadn’t set the landing net up so panic stations while I hurriedly did so, all the time reminding Isaac to keep the rod bent. By the time I’d waded out to join him the fish was passing close by, visible in the clear water; “Pike!” yelled Isi. She thrashed in the margins and tried her best to make the sanctuary of the reeds but our luck was in and I soon scooped her up in the net. After three unsuccessful attempts we’d done it. A few moments of magic that passed all too quickly at this ancient, tree shrouded, gloomy pool.

Isaac held the Pike in the net while I got the camera, mat and forceps ready then we carried her over to do the necessary. The size 6 double was firmly in the scissors, a perfect hook up. Two quick photos captured the moment forever then I carried her back to the edge and we watched her gently slip away. Isaac had christened his rod, magic!

And that was the one take of the day. We may well have caught more but we only stayed on for another hour. By late morning the day was barely less gloomy than before but at least the drizzle had stopped. We discussed future fishing adventures. For a couple of months we’ll try for more, bigger Pike and when spring comes well go for Carp & silver fish. However, today we’d got what we set out for and there were jobs to do at home. A contented Pike angler walked back to the car with his dad.