A History of Pike fishing by Graham Booth

This book was published in 2011 and to be honest I never thought I’d end up getting a copy.  I’ve never been interested in angling history any further back than the 1950’s and I’m much more interested in more contemporary angling history, so figured this one wasn’t for me.  Since the book was published I’ve heard nothing but good things about it from people whose opinions I respect.  Thinking about it, this is a history of the sport I love I really ought to learn about it.  So when the book’s publisher Stephen Harper gave a very enjoyable talk for Suffolk PAC it was a good opportunity to get a copy.

Chapter one covers not just the history of Pike fishing but the origins of all angling from the time anglers began to write about the sport.  Some of the earliest known writing was found from right here in Suffolk at Helmingham hall.

The early nineteenth is the subject of the second chapter and the Pike is emerging as a renowned sporting fish.  Methods and customs of the day seem barbaric to us; the ‘dead gorge’ method where Pike were given five to ten minutes to swallow the bait meant almost all Pike were killed.  Instant strikes were only popular in March when Pike were more likely to mess about with the bait.  Up to this point I’d found the book hard going in places but on the whole interesting and probably more enjoyable than I’d expected.

Graham Booth has identified the period from 1865 to 1914 as the ‘Golden age of Pike fishing’ and this forms the subject of the next four chapters.  I found this part of the book really interesting, particularly the parallels that can be drawn with modern Pike fishing.  Although most large Pike were still killed for trophies the Victorians were practicing some conservation with many smaller Pike returned to grow.  Just like today many larger Pike were caught from private waters with restricted access and exactly like today the locations were very often closely guarded secrets.  Yes secrecy is almost as old as Pike fishing. 

Methods came on a long way with livebaiting becoming more popular, particularly the Paternoster rig.  Alfred Jardine developed the ‘snap tackle’ which most Pike anglers still use today, but I don’t!  There was a reference to Jardine fishing a water I have an acquaintance with which too.  There was also a fair amount of rivalry and a little bit of bitching between the leading ‘Pikeists’ of the day.  Pike guides were also around in the ‘golden era’, known simply as ‘fishermen’, though comparatively little is known about them.  This is a shame as it was these men who often put Jardine & co onto the Pike they caught.  For the most part I really enjoyed this part of the book but could have done without the chapter on angling exhibitions.  Pike were highly regarded during the golden age, at least the equal of Salmon and Trout, if anything they were more popular and were fished for by the upper classes.

The final chapter described the ‘dark age’ between 1915 and 1950 when Pike fishing was less popular with the elite and consequently there was far less written on the subject.  There were no real developments in our sport at this time and if anything methods went backwards.  There were a few enlightened souls including Jim Vincent who fished the Broadland waters I know today.  I was surprised that the Broads hadn’t featured earlier in the history of Pike fishing I wonder why the earlier Pikeists didn’t venture out east?

The further I got into this book the more I enjoyed it and I’m really glad I read it.  Produced by Stephen Harper it is colourful and laid out beautifully, we expect nothing less from Mr Harper and he never disappoints.  I’ve sometimes found Graham Booth’s writing style a bit over the top in some of his articles but that is not the case here.  The research he has done to compile this history must have taken years and Pike anglers owe him a debt for recording our sport for us.  I’ll definitely be getting hold of volume two as not only does it deal with the period I’m interested in but also waters and in some cases people I know.

Pike fishing history, 1982

http://www.harperanglingbooks.co.uk/ahistoryofpike.html

Hickling Broad

I have committed a cardinal sin in naming a Pike water and what’s more I’m now about to make it worse by writing about it. I apologise if this offends anyone but I don’t do this lightly, I do it for good reason.

 The Broad’s fishing history is one of periods of good fishing punctuated by blooms of the toxic algae Prymnesium parva which destroys the fishery.  These blooms have an uncanny knack of “coinciding” with dredging or weed cutting carried out by the Broads Authority.  One such cycle which took place in 1999-2000 is brilliantly described by Stephen Harper in his book “Dream Pike”.

I first fished the broad over a decade ago on a wild wintery day which saw Rich and I blown off the mudweights and drifting down the broad in a blizzard.  This water is renowned for being rock hard but over the years I learnt how to fish it and discovered a handful of spots where I could be confident of finding a Pike or two.  I grew to love fishing the wide open waters beneath a massive flatland sky.  The Harriers soaring overhead became familiar, we often heard Bittern and occasionally saw them too.  Rich and I both caught memorable fish from the broad and by 2011 I would back myself to catch a Pike from it in almost any conditions, throughout the Pike season.  What we didn’t realise at the time was that winter was the peak of another mini revival for the biggest of Norfolk’s broads, in fact a Broadland angler of long experience stated it was as good as he’d ever known.

Near the peak

The following spring the BA commenced its ill-conceived dredging and ‘island recreation scheme’ and the subsequent deadly bloom of Prymnesium parva was well documented on these pages.  The Pike fishing on the Broad was dire the following season, Pike were notable by their absence.  However the next season (2nd since the bloom) showed promising signs and it seemed like the Broad was on the road to recovery.  Unfortunately the season that has just passed was very poor again, not just poor it was, well it was just weird.  Before Christmas there were a few fish about but not where we would expect them to be in any numbers.  Most of those we caught were small and came from unexpected places.  The new year saw silver fish massed in unbelievable numbers but a broad that seemed to be devoid of Pike.  This I experienced myself and it has become apparent that other anglers have found that the Pike in particular have behaved in totally unpredictable ways.  Something strange was happening on the Broad. 

 On March 9^th reports came through of dead fish being spotted on the broad, rumours of recent dredging circulated.  This eventually jogged my memory; I had seen a crane or something in the woods on the other side of the road at the end of Catfield dyke.  The ditches in this area are pumped under the road and into the dyke.  I emailed Dan Hoare at the BA who stated that the authority had not undertaken any dredging in the area, this work had to have been done privately and evidently had not received permission from Natural England.

 Over the weekend there were sporadic reports of dead fish on the Broad then on Monday 16^th fish were seen in distress in the boatyards at the far Northern end, the Environment Agency took action and with PAC's main main John Currie helping, over the next two days more than two hundred thousand fish were netted and relocated to safe parts of the system.  Boats surveyed the broad and discovered around two hundred dead fish including Pike, Perch, eels, Bream and Roach.  Steve Lane and co. from the EA worked hard and went beyond the call of duty saving fish. Scientists from the John Innes centre who are researching Prymnesium parva took water samples and removed dead fish for testing.

 The next day more dead fish were reported and by the evening of the 19^th the boat yards were once again heaving with fish that had left the main broad to escape the toxin.  The following morning the EA team were in action again netting and transferring fish to safer waters.  Details of the EA’s work can be found here;

https://www.gov.uk/government/news/quarter-of-a-million-fish-rescued-in-norfolk-broads

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-norfolk-31983062

 Water samples taken at the end of Catfield dyke were negative for toxins.  Those with their heads in the sand will say this proves the Prymnesium outbreak was not down to dredging, it’s just another “coincidence”.  Those of us that don’t believe in such things will point out that the toxin would have dispersed naturally down the dyke, aided by the strong westerly winds on the days that preceded the first dead fish being sighted.  The water may have been fine when the tests were taken but was almost certainly deadly a few days before.

Friday 20^th saw the EA team in action with the nets once again, another successful operation which saw a further forty thousand fish netted and released in safe waters.  This brought the total to over a quarter of a million fish saved.  It’s interesting that the fish massed in the boatyards would risk death through lack of oxygen rather than face the lethal toxin on the main broad.  As yet there has been no official confirmation that Prymnesium parva is present on Hickling Broad but no one involved doubts for a second that this is the case.  At this time few fish are turning up dead on the Broad so it seems we may have been lucky, the fish have moved away from the toxin in numbers and a full scale fish kill has been avoided.

9th March 2015

So having established that disturbing sediment through dredging or other work can lead to outbreaks of a deadly fish killer, surely people would have enough sense to avoid such action?  Sadly not, voices within the yachting fraternity continue to pressure the Broads Authority into more dredging and damn the consequences!  This will seem ridiculous to many but dredging is scheduled for this coming autumn and this work is set to take place at the northern end of Hickling Broad, close to the very area where the fleeing fish have taken refuge this week.  These people are only worried about sailing their unsuitable boats and care nothing for the chain of life invisible to them beneath the water.  They presumably care nothing for the birds and mammals that rely on fish for food either, but why would they?  They make far too much disturbance to stand a chance of actually seeing Bittern, Grebes, Kingfishers, Egrets, Herons or indeed Otters.  As long as ignorant attitudes remain, Hickling Broad will remain at risk from Prymnesium parva blooms and as was witnessed in 1969, a big outbreak could literally wipe out the system.

March

March started with Isaac and I heading off to a gravel pit in the late afternoon for a couple of hours fishing.  This is a water I’ve fished a great deal in the distant past with quite a lot of success and one I’d earmarked for a few visits next season.  Today would be a good chance to refresh my memories of the water and hopefully my son and I would find some fish.  Some things stick long in the memory and I recalled an area that used to produce Pike late in the season so it was here we set up. 

The day was bright and fairly mild but there was a fresh westerly wind which luckily was on our backs.  We each fished with a float legered deadbait and used a lure rod to search the swim.  An hour in the first spot saw nothing so we moved to another area, which was the swim from which I caught my first twenty pounder back in 1983.  We fished the same methods and had the same result.  Isaac grew distracted and wandered off with the camera and I scanned my surroundings. Did I really want to revisit this old haunt next season?  With a busy footpath behind me and too many other anglers clearly visible and audible on the bank opposite me I decided probably not.

The reality is in my local area although it’s easy to find Pike fishing, big Pike are few and far between.  Overall the fishing is mediocre at best.  The waters themselves are a mixture, most are pleasant enough places but they are busy, when word of decent Pike fishing gets out the crowds descend.  The big fish I mentioned last month is getting pressured and has been caught again already, once at least.  Almost all of the local Pikers I’ve met have been decent people but social Pike fishing just isn’t my thing.  Most of all the local fishing lacks any kind of mystery to keep the fishing interesting.

About one hundred photos later Isaac returned and settled down with me again to watch the floats.  We chatted away and made each other laugh then Isaac who is a horrendous cheat claimed a victory at “I spy”.  With the sun dipping we both decided enough was enough and returned home happy but fishless.

A few days later I was fishing again.  I’d expressed an interest in a certain East Anglian water and a mutual friend put me in touch with Mr N who was a member at this exclusive fishery.  We had a shared love of fishing and Ipswich Town F.C., we swapped a few emails and Mr N kindly invited me as a guest to fish the water with him.  A date was set and I’d looked forward to it, now it was here.

We met on a cold, clear mid-week morning.  Mr N felt the slight frost was not a good omen but the fresh North westerly wind would hopefully get the fish moving.  We fished three deadbaits each from a large and stable punt which Mr N had rowed into position.  Within minutes he was away on a smelt and shortly afterwards I netted a big fish for him.  Big smiles and handshakes, the day was off to the best possible start!  All I wanted now from this new water was just a Pike, any Pike would do.  It wasn’t long before I got my wish and brought a welcome jack to the boat.

The hour that followed was one of those mad periods of hectic fishing that I often read about but rarely experience myself.  It seemed like we were constantly dealing with a fish, sometimes two at a time and at one point we had a Pike in each net for a combined weight of over thirty eight pounds.  In the brief periods between fish we sat laughing and shaking our heads.  Fishing doesn’t get better than this.  All the fish came to float legered deadbaits with Smelt taking the most.

After that mad hour the sport tailed off so we moved around and Mr N added three more to our tally with another big fish to finish.  He assured me this was indeed an exceptional day, the best he’d had here for several years.  Our combined weight was well into three figures with Mr N catching the lions share; I decided I must bring him luck.  The water itself is quiet and a very agreeable place to spend a day, it ticks all the boxes.  Before this day we’d never fished together before but we discovered mutual friends and much in common, Mr N was interesting and really good company.  He must have thought I was OK too because we promised to do it again.

 A few days later I headed off for my last trip to the special place for this season.  The weather was mild but the fishing was tough and on the first day all I managed was a jack on Lamprey.  The second day got worse, jacks were splashing in the weed and it looked like spawning was on the cards.  I decided to get off the water early.  On the way messages and observations suggested something very bad was happening on the system.  I hope I’m wrong but I have a feeling I’ll be writing more about this in the very near future.

 Saturday March 14^th, the children were settled so I decide as it was the last day I could fish the river then I should fish the river.  I grabbed a lure rod and the necessary bits then headed out to my favourite local stretch.  My sights were set low, I just wanted to catch a Pike.  This is my third visit to the stretch this winter and I arrived to find the water low and clear.  There were loads of snowdrops growing, this always cheers me up, a sure sign of spring.  I clipped on the never fail Zoota wagtail and made my way upstream casting along reedy margins and to overhanging trees.  With the water so low the polaroids revealed many areas were painfully shallow and not worth a cast so I covered ground quickly.  I arrived at an obvious feature that had produced a fish on a previous visit and sure enough it did so again.  I’d have been tempted to think it was the same one but if anything this was smaller.  Still it was the last river Pike I’ll catch for a while and mission accomplished for the day.  I reached the top of the stretch, passing a Chub angler who had reason to smile.  Should I retrace my steps with another lure?  No, back to the car with the Clash on the stereo and home to a warm house.

 Another Pike season comes to an end, I think this is the 34^th consecutive winter for me and I have enjoyed it as much as I ever have.  I’ve been fortunate enough to catch a few this season but the fishing hasn’t been easy, it’s been challenging and interesting all the way.  I keep enjoying my Piking because I choose the waters I fish carefully, they need to tick three boxes; 1 - They must be nice places to spend time.  2- The fishing must be interesting. 3 – There should be the possibility of a whacker.  This past season I managed to tick all three.

So many clocks ticking

In the mad world of Norfolk Angling the Broads Authority (not a national park) has come up with another bizarre plan.  Last week, without any consultation they sprung the news that they intend to dredge the boating channel on Hickling Broad commencing on 16^th March.  It was precisely this area that was affected by Prymnesium in early spring three years ago and as far as Pike fishing goes it is a long way from recovering from this fatal bloom.  It may be the BA feels the improved suction dredging methods will make this operation safer this time around (assuming they use this method of course, reverting to a clam shell bucket is unthinkable but…) but all anglers will agree it’s just two risky.  The “what if…” is just too much.  The BA will argue they have been considerate to anglers because they will wait for the closed season but surely next winter is a much better time to do this work, if at all?  In reality there is little or nothing we anglers can do except make our voices heard.  John Currie & co at the NDPC will make sure the BA is held to account but it doesn’t hurt for all anglers have their say to the BA

Dan.Hoare@broads-authority.gov.uk
Rob.Rogers@broads-authority.gov.uk
adrian.clarke@broads-authority.gov.uk
John.Packman@broads-authority.gov.uk
Trudi.Wakelin@broads-authority.gov.uk

Sunday arrived and after I had a 59 hour working week I won’t be waking up to an alarm clock so a nice lay in was followed by a big bacon sarnie for breakfast.  I lazily sorted the gear and loaded the car, stuck Eels ‘Souljacker’ in the CD player then hit the road "Ah Yeah!".  I couldn’t resist going back to the old place and by the time I arrived I knew where I wanted to fish, a different swim this time, one that had produced some good fish in the past. I arrived to find I had the place to myself which was a novelty and meant my chosen swim was free.  As I approached the water an Egret took flight, these things are far from rare in East Anglia these days.  By 1130 I was fishing with a Bluey and a smelt on the near shelf and a drifting Mackerel covering the open water in front of me. 

 Time for a sit down and a brew.  A pair of Swans crashed down onto the water then despite having the whole place to choose from they decided to swim straight over and muck around in front of me.  To the left I noticed some gulls seemed to be standing on the water, after a while I realised that part of the lake still had a thin layer of ice.  The day was bright with a wind from the north but still milder than the days that preceded it.  The water was obviously still cold but I felt I was in with a good chance.  I’d brought the shelter but was comfortable enough so didn’t use it.

I also had a lure rod with me and started pinging a few lures around; a Replicant, Wagtail, Reaper and a spoon.  All looked good in the clear water and I gave them a good go but saw and felt nothing.  The Swans buggered off across the lake and the Egret swooped down again landing in the reeds close to the Swans, they were the same colour after all.  The drifting rod worked well, with a floating braid and a big dumpy float made of balsa I could easily drift the bait out eighty yards or so then slowly retrieve it sink & draw style.  In this clear water surely something would see it?

After a couple of hours without a sniff it was high time for a move so I tidied up and hoofed it round to the area that had come alive a month previously.  Once again I placed two baits at the bottom of the near slope, one on either side to leave the middle free for the drifting rod.  As the sun began to dip the wind dropped away making the drifter much slower but still effective.  Everything seemed dead and I didn’t feel anything would happen.  I was waiting for dusk and hoping the silver fish would show again and the Pike would turn up too.

Around 1700 at last one or two Roach began to top right in the edge of the reedbeds.  As time passed and the sky grew darker they became more numerous and gradually spread out into open water in front of me.  There were obviously loads of fish here, surely the Pike would show?  I brought the drifting rod in, set the float at about three feet deep and swung it out again, just in case the Pike would be up in the water.  Everything looked good but until a Pike makes its presence known you just never know…  I fished well into darkness, the silver fish fizzled away and the Pike didn’t show up.  I never could make any sense of this place and in truth unless I’m getting my string pulled then it doesn’t interest me anymore.

I'd been tipped off that there might well be a nice sized Pike in another lake but it’s not the kind of place I could sit on with deadbaits so I’ve just had a couple of half-hearted sessions with lures.  That Pike was caught recently by a really nice bloke who had put a bit of effort in, fair play and congratulations.  Unfortunately word quickly got out and all the Pikers in the area now know about the Pike, the clock is ticking…

I had a Monday off work, a half term day spent with the kids and after a big roast dinner left everyone settled giving me the chance to slip out for an hour with a lure rod.  No guesses as to where I was headed.  On arrival it soon became apparent that I wasn’t alone; there were a couple of Pikers with rods well spread where before it had been uncommon to see one. Yes I’m jumping on the bandwagon too but like I said, bait fishing here doesn’t interest me.  If I’m going to catch this Pike it will be on a lure or not at all.  In reality my interest will probably be short lived and I expect before long it will be too late.

I started off fishing with a Reaper jig which I counted down then bounced back along the bottom which meant I could get a good idea of the contours of the lake.  This would especially be useful as I’m planning to fish the place for Tench this spring.  I wasn’t able to cover as much water as I’d hoped because parts were stitched up and I don’t think casting lures too close to anglers fishing baits is really the right thing to do.  What I did have to go at was covered nicely by the jig and I got a good feel for the depths, weed and stuff.  I then went back over the same ground using a little Salmo slider followed by a curly tailed thing made by Dave Greenwood.  All the lures I threw around during this short session looked just the part to me but unfortunately no Pike agreed.

It’s already that time of year when I look at the calendar and realise the river season is running out fast.  The weather is getting a little bit milder and the days are definitely getting noticeably longer.  I’ll only be able to fish on just two weekends before the close and there’s only one place I want to fish, whatever the weather throws at me.  You never know how long what we have left will last.

Little & Often

Winter has finally realised what it should be doing here in the East, cold frosty weather through the week and even a bit of sleet the weekend, not good fishing weather but I didn’t expect to be heading out anyway.  However Shelley’s car is in the garage and she required picking up from work so this gave me an idea to go look at the stillwater I’d fished last time.  I wanted to know if once again the place would come alive with baitfish at dusk. Firstly I had to make sure the kids were happy and get some household jobs done.  With both boxes ticked my idea had advanced somewhat.  I hastily filled a flask and picked up some bait, then sorted out a net, a lure rod and a rod to float fish a deadbait. No need for a chair or shelter today.

 I had to pick Shelley up from Town and a look at the clock confirmed I’d be able to get to the water, have an hours fishing then collect Shelley on my way back home.  By 1530 I was fishing but things hadn’t quite gone to plan.  In my haste to get going, the rod I’d picked up was the only one set up with a leger rig.  I had neither the time nor inclination to change it so a legered smelt was dropped close in at the bottom of the shelf.  Things didn’t look great for the deadbait, as well as being cold the water was flat.  On days like this a livebait can make all the difference.  I had none but I did have a lighter lure rod and a selection of smaller lures to through around. 

I really fancied working a Professor spoon as it was the right sort of size and I could fish at all depths.  Despite having caught loads of Pike on spoons, including a few big uns I rarely fish them at all these days but something I’d read had put the idea in my mind.  However for some reason the first lure I clipped on was a Reaper jig which I bounced around the bottom and caught nothing but leaves and twigs.  Next I tried the Professor fishing mostly deep and slow with the occasional faster turn followed by letting the spoon flutter down again.  After a cast parallel to the bank I casually lifted the spoon clear and beneath it the water boiled, I’d moved a fish!  The next cast the rod bent round and I dragged in a branch, bloody typical!  Detaching the debris gave me a moment to think.  Was that Pike sitting close in?  If so if I drop the spoon into the deep margin and jig it a bit that might work?  This old trick has worked before and it almost worked today, the rod went solid and I slowly pulled a Pike up to the surface where it shook its head and chucked the lure back at me.  Win some, lose some.

I stopped for a brew and looked out across the water, there were a few fish topping but nothing like as many as last time.  With the warm tea inside me I went back to flinging the lure around.  A long cast into deeper water brought a sharp thump at distance, definitely a fish but the hook didn’t set.  Was this one of those days when the Pike aren’t really up for it and just nip the end of the lure?  I kept on casting and tried different lures; a spinnerbait and a paddle tail jig before switching back to the spoon, all to no avail.  At 1640 I tidied up in rapidly fading light.  There had been nothing like the amount of silver fish showing this week but there had been at least one Pike willing to have a go.  I have a feeling I will be back.

Both the children were busy on Saturday morning which gave me a couple of hours free time but with sleet and freezing conditions could I be bothered?  What the hell!  It only took me a few minutes to grab a rod and a net then stuff a few bits into a rucksack.  With good thermals under plenty of winter layers; hat, shades and gloves and I was prepared for anything.  We hadn’t had much recent rainfall so I guessed the river would be in pretty good nick and I’d be in with a chance.  Lower the sights today, just a Pike any Pike.

I arrived at the downstream end of the stretch and saw the river looked bang on with a nice green tinge.  The first swim had a treacherous muddy death slide to contend with, usually this is precisely the type of obvious obstacle to which I succumb but by leaning on the landing net handle I made it.  I started off with a Shad but it didn’t give me any confidence so switched to a spoon.  This didn’t look right either, so I reverted to the faithful Wagtail and felt happy straight away. The other lures may well have worked but I wanted to move quickly today and confidence is everything. An Egret flew low looking to perch in a far bank tree.  It saw me and lifted off again, shame, would have been close enough for a half decent photo.

I made my way upstream casting to overhanging trees and along reedy margins.  Many features looked just the part but by the time I was half way along my chosen stretch I hadn’t had a knock.  It never crossed my mind to change the lure, the Wagtail has done the business so many times, maybe it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy?  It doesn’t matter.  A cast along the front of a raft of winter muck saw the tip hoop round, fish on!  I don’t expect to catch big fish here and this one is run of the mill but on a light set up she charges about a bit and muddies the margins before I can chin her out.

 I worked my way to the top of the stretch and once felt a tap on the tip that may have been a Pike, or not.  As usual I swapped lures for a spinnerbait and made my way back downstream, travelling quickly with just a cast here and there.  I’d had enough and was happy to get back into the car with ‘Green day’ warming my ears.  Time to get back to being responsible(ish.)  
  

The cold weather has been here a week and looks set to stay for a while longer.  I think it’s fair to say we’ve had a ‘proper winter’ this year.  As much as I’ve loved the Pike fishing this season I’ve had more than enough of raw, frosty weather.  Here’s hoping for South westerlies and climbing temperatures.

The bleak mid winter

When is a National Park not a National Park?  When it’s the Broads National Park.  For some years the Broads Authority has been lobbying for the area to gain national park status.  Surely for a renowned area of natural beauty this should be a no-brainer?  Standing in the way is the ‘Sandford principle’ which states; “where irreconcilable conflicts exist between conservation and public enjoyment, then conservation interest should take priority”.  Obviously anglers will be very wary of this as we already have to contend with too many restrictions and exclusions.  The boating fraternity have far more to lose however and it is this well-heeled and influential group that holds sway within the BA.  We have seen the lengths the boaters can push the BA to with the ill-conceived dredging of Heigham Sound a few years ago.  Thankfully this project is being handled more sensitively nowadays and it seemed as if a bit of common sense had crept into the Broads Authority. 

To cut a very long story short, the BA has side stepped the Sandford principle by a simple re-branding.  The Norfolk and Suffolk Broads have been renamed the Broads National Park.  Apparently the broads are equal to the countries other national parks without having the legal status.  The new name alone will give the area all the advantages it needs without actually having to conform to the “legal restrictions”.  So it’s not a national park but its okay to call it a national park?  So if I piss into an empty bottle can I call it lager?  You have to laugh at the BA’s use of double speak but from a purely selfish point of view, it’s all fine by me.  I’m sceptical towards any changes being to angler’s advantage.  Anyway...

I never sleep well the night before a fishing trip and was up at 0445, before the alarm had even sounded.  For the first time in a year I braved the ordeal of dragging myself out of a warm bed at a stupid time on a cold frosty morning.  My motivation was the first trip of the year to the special place.  Everything that could be sorted was loaded already so it was just a case of filling the flasks and hitting the road.  At that time of day the roads were empty and the drive was easy.  A Barn Owl ghosted along the verge, ‘Goat’ throbbed from the speakers and my head bobbed to the rhythm.

I’ve launched in the dark so many times that it’s smooth and easy nowadays, apart from having to shift thick ice from the boat cover.  Launching does require a bit of sweat and grunt, I remembered not to layer up with too many clothes before the boat was on the water, I don’t want to be sweating this early in the day.  Bait catching is quick and easy and all over in a few minutes, knowing where is the key.  I sorted the boat and tackled up in the dark, this way I make far less noise when I’m out on the water.  Another boat at the slip gave me the hurry up; you don’t often get that at the times I usually launch.  The engine doesn’t want to start at first but eventually splutters into life and farts its way out onto the broad then off to my destination.

I cut the engine about 100 yards short of the spot then rowed in and quietly dropped the weights.  Three rods with float leger rigs were baited with deadbaits and positioned around the boat, two covering a feature the other in open water.  The fourth rod had a live Roach fished on a float rig and allowed to drift downwind.  With the rods out I got the boat tidy and organised then put the cuddy half up for a windbreak.  Time to relax, pour a brew and reach for the rizla (“judge not, before ya judge yaself…”).  A deep relaxed sigh… Here I am, sitting in my comfortable chair, looking out across a beautiful wetland wilderness; just 2 1/2 hours after getting up; “it was all worth it, to be here now…”  Bliss.

After half an hour the first Harrier had drifted in silhouette into the trees.  There was no spectacular sunrise today, just slowly growing light behind a blanket of low cloud.  I’m in the mood for music today so I have Radio6 music tuned in and playing quietly in the boat.  The DJ is Marianne Hobbs and she’s on top form with Led Zep’s “Ramble on”.  What is Plant on about?  “It was in the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair…”  Must have been some trip Bob!  This was followed by loads of good tunes; the Charlatans, and Kraftwerk to name just a couple.

After forty five minutes I’ve been twitching all the baits and recast the Lamprey as there was more weed than I expected.  The conditions aren’t great, the temperature has been low for a couple of weeks so it may pay to keep them baits on the move because I don’t think the Pike will be travelling far today.  I need to cover water and try to put a bait so close to a fish that it’s too good to miss.  I expect it to be a hard, slow day and just putting a fish in the boat will be a result but this is a place in which dreams can come true.  It’s nice to see a Grebe working the area.  It knows what I know and much, much more.  By now it’s a little brighter with blue sky visible through holes in the thinning cloud, the light westerly is giving just enough ripple, the water is moving, the deadbait scents will be drifting.

By 0900 the sun is out and the shades are on, not only do they filter the sun they keep the wind off exposed skin, it’s a raw one today.  Good gloves are essential too, especially when hauling up wet anchor ropes.  I use ‘Sealskinz’ which are tough, 100% waterproof, the thumb and forefinger fold back and are held by magnets freeing my fingers for fiddly jobs.  The gloves rarely have to come off throughout the day.  I’ve had mine over a year now and there’s no sign of damage, not cheap at around £40 but money well spent. Breakfast is digestive biscuits, quick easy and filling.  I can’t be arsed with the fry up these days, too much mess and too distracting.  Time is up on this spot, I have to move on.

I lift the weights and drift downwind a hundred yards or so, paddling with an oar to maintain course.  The same four baits are arranged and I sit back to scan the floats some more.  I’ll give it an hour here and if nothing happens I’ll start the engine and head off elsewhere.  Thinking ahead… I wish I’d noticed where the other boat went first thing but I was concentrating on getting the baits out.  My guts are rumbling, wish I’d curled one off before I left this morning.  Sipping tea and watching the water, the strange calls of cranes away to the south.  Mary Anne sounds like she nods off to sleep between tunes but had carried on in good form with Primal Scream and an old Michael Jackson tune from back when he was still black.  Now Cerys Matthews has taken over with a silky, sexy voice but she plays a load of folky, country shite so I switch the radio off for a while.

Late morning and I’m taking a slow cruise to another mark, one that has form for good fish at this time of day, at this time of year.  But that was before the last Prymnesium, things are much tougher these days.  A cruising harrier crosses my path on its way to join another to the east of me.  This area is always a reliable spot to watch the Harriers and the occasional Buzzard.  Once again I cut the engine and row into position in the ‘midday bay’, dropping the livebait over the side on the way, paying out line as I go.  I’ll slowly draw it back towards my anchored boat over the next hour or so.  Once the boat is secure the deadbaits are spread and I sit back to watch the Harriers which don’t disappoint.  There are loads of swans here too, thankfully keeping their distance, going arse upwards to get to the weed.  It’s still bright and the wind has picked up now, whistling through the reeds but it definitely feels much milder than it has for a few days.

After just over an hour I lift the weights again and drift further into the bay.  With the baits out again it’s time for lunch, a cold tin of pilchards followed by a chocolate bar and more biscuits.  I have a tin of soup but can’t be bothered and only use the stove to boil the kettle and top up the flasks.  Cerys Matthew got better, peaking with a Royksopp track then there was a Smashing Pumpkins gig.  It’s great to be back out in the boat but the fish aren’t where I expect to find them and what I’m doing isn’t working today.  After a bit of thought I decide to have a complete change of method and the time to do it is right now!

Half an hour later I kill the engine once again and quickly rearrange the boat.  I have a bucket full of bait and I’m going to try and use it!  The two rods with bottom end floats are put to one side while the other two rigged up with inline floats are adjusted slightly and set to troll livebaits through an area I rarely fish.  I head off on the oars, it’s a while since I’ve trolled and it takes me a few minutes, making the same old mistakes, before I get the hang of it again.  After that it comes easy and I oh so slowly covered water.  After forty minutes or so I’m happy with the way I’m fishing but I haven’t dragged a bait close enough to a Pike and then…  A float buries and the baitrunner starts to sing my favourite song.  I quickly drop the small weight over the side then pick up the rod and wind into a fish.  It’s only a jack but it pulls the rod round and I’m well pleased to chin it out.  The hooks come out with my fingers and I notice the fish has loads of leaches hitching a ride.  Some say this is a sign of a fish that hasn’t been moving very much and I’ve definitely noticed Pike are more leachy when it’s cold.  The change of plan has worked; I have a fish under my belt now it’s time for another.

 Half an hour later the other float stabs then zips along the surface accompanied by the buzzing baitrunner.  I repeat the procedure but the float has stopped before I pick the rod up and I wind down to find the bait has been stolen.  Do I turn and cover the area again?  No, I decide to rest the area and come back this way in a little while.

Another twenty minutes pass and as my first float passes alongside a nice feature it slowly and effortlessly slides across the surface.  Weight down, pick up rod and… Yes!  Another Pike hooked.  This one is a little bigger than the first but not enough to excite many Pikers, still on a cold day it puts a warm smile on my face.  However I still want more and bigger.

I trolled for another hour, going back over the areas that had produced fish but failed to find any more Pike.  With the sun going low I started the engine again and headed back towards base then settle down fishing three deads and a live once more.  Ducks are quaking and there’s the roosting racket of a gazillion gulls. I’d have said that the dusk period would be the best chance of a fish today but I’m not really feeling it.  Still I go through the motions and settle down to watch the sun set.  Dusk is an eerie time out here in the wilds.  The shadowy trees are threatening and the gulls now sound like they’re challenging me for invading their space.  It’s now 1700 and almost dark; I’ll give it half an hour more.  It has been a tough day but making a change has brought me a couple of fish and I’ve enjoyed the time on the water.  I’m probably a day or so early, it’s been a bit warmer but not warm enough.  The next couple of days should see fish moving but I’ll be back at work, typical.

By 1830 I’m off the water and looking forward to a sixty mile drive on crappy roads.  For company I had a Richie Benaud audio book describing some great West Indian cricketers; Wes Hall, Michael Holding and Sir Viv Richards.  After that I had another blast of Goat which saw me home.  By the time I’d unloaded the car and closed the door behind me it was gone eight o clock and I’d enjoyed every minute.  I choose the places I spend my time in carefully.  I enjoy just being there, letting the countryside cleanse the bullshit of modern life from my soul.  I’m dreaming of catching the most special Broadland queen but along the way I get a buzz from every one of her little sisters.

All new

The end of the week had seen mild weather and strong westerly winds, ideal Pike fishing conditions but unfortunately I was stuck at work.  Saturday evening was spent talking, laughing, eating Chinese and drinking Guinness with my oldest, dearest friends.  It’s been years since I’ve been in Town on a Saturday night but things haven’t changed, drunk lads will always feel the need to fight each other.  Thankfully this was just a side show which didn’t spoil our evening out.  These nights are all too rare so it was well worth sacrificing an early start on my day off.  I didn’t feel too rough in the morning but still didn’t hurry out of bed.  I was planning to fish the afternoon through dusk when all the Pike should come on the feed, in theory….

I spent a bit of time out in the back yard getting my gear together as Christmas had bestowed a bit of new kit to incorporate into/onto my tackle.  My old fishing shelter finally gave up the ghost this season.  It was a pop up tent that was marketed by Relum and aimed mostly at beach anglers. I bought this in 1997 because I was fed up with lugging a big wavelock umbrella around.  My mates took the piss and christened it the ‘portaloo’ but it was lightweight, set up in a couple of minutes and was far better than the old brollies at that time.  It lasted me all of seventeen years and if they were still available I’d seriously consider getting another one.  Umbrella design and materials have come a long way since I last owned a brolly and I ended up buying a 60” oval brolly.  Having looked at a few different options first hand I could see little difference between them so went for one marketed by TFGear, simply because it was cheapest.

The new shelter is much bigger than the old but still lighter than the old wavelock brollies however it was obvious that my old quiver would not be up to the job.  I think this item was even older than the shelter and I’m pretty sure it came from ‘The tackle shop’, I have a feeling it originally went on the market when Trevor Moss owned the shop.  I reckon I’ve used this old quiver for at least twenty years and it has been bodged up and repaired over this time so a new one was overdue.  Perks of the job again, I got to look at four different quivers from four manufacturers before choosing a 30 plus Kodex model.  Finally I bought a fox specialist unhooking mat simply because it clips neatly on top of my rucksack.

The time I spent sorting this lot out with a fierce wind cutting through me had me questioning if I really wanted to venture out into the cold at all.  It’s windy, cold and horrible, the best conditions have been and gone so why bother?  Having made the effort to sort the gear I thought ‘what the hell?’ give the new gear a test if nothing else.  So with the car loaded and everything ready I only had to decide where to fish.  My destination must tick two boxes; firstly it had to be unaffected from flood water after recent heavy rain, secondly I craved peace and quiet so as few other anglers/strollers as possible.  I’d had a couple of days to ponder on this and had come up with a water that I haven’t fished for a long time.  It would mean travelling a bit further than I would normally like but I fancied giving it a recce to refresh my memory if nothing else, so why not give it a go?

Because I'm a fun guy

 I arrived around midday and after a bit of a walk picked a swim offering me shelter from the wind as well as lots of water to cover.  The new quiver felt comfortable, so far so good.  To keep warm I would need the shelter up so I didn’t want to move camp, instead I had plenty of scope to keep the baits on the move with frequent recasts to different areas.  I legered a bluey on my left and float legered a smelt to the right, both were quietly dropped at the bottom of the marginal shelf, always a good place to start.  With the baits out it was time to tackle the new Oval brolly which went up easily and was solid all afternoon with the storm poles and pegs securing it.  There was a groundsheet included too but I can’t see myself ever using this so it might as well stay at home in future.

An hour later I’d recast both rods and set up a third with a float rig suspending a Joey Mackerel a foot or so off the bottom.  The plan was to cast this out and let it drift around with the wind then slowly retrieve it ‘sink & draw’ style.  The water was gin clear just as I’d remembered so hopefully this moving bait would be easily visible to any Pike around, at least that was the plan.  It was a pleasant afternoon, bright enough for shades and a cap to be required, with the new brolly keeping the wind of me and the sun on my face I was warm and comfortable.  It was really enjoyable working the swim, moving the baits around and refreshing my memory. After two weeks away from the waterside it felt good being out in the East Anglian countryside, I’d forgotten what a nice place this is.  There was just one other angler who packed up mid afternoon and only one friendly stroller who was OK.  However something was missing, the Pike weren’t playing ball.

Around 1530 I noticed a couple of bait fish break the surface close in so repositioned the float legered Smelt, back to the marginal shelf where I’d begun fishing.  Ten minutes later I was watching my drifting float riding the waves, I glanced back to the margin float to see it was laying flat.  Action stations… net in position, wind down slowly and… nothing.  I wound in to find a bit of weed on the hook and no marks on the bait but for that float to be laying flat the lead must have been moved?  If I’d been concentrating on that float instead of the drifter I’d know what had happened for sure.  A well set float leger rig, using an unweighted bottom end pencil type float (I like the Drennan Pike Wagglers) gives brilliant bite indication. When a Pike picks up the bait the float tends to rise and wobble then lay flat before sliding away.  It’s one of the best sights in fishing and I’d missed it.  By now there were more and more silver fish topping so I recast the smelt and also wound the drifting mackerel back into the area.  With darkness creeping closer, the surface was alive with fish and chances of a Pike seemed better than at any time previously, unless I’d missed my chance.

At 1600 a single beep drew my attention to the float above the smelt which had a decided wobble on, it didn’t lay flat but yes it was slipping away into the open water!  Repeat the procedure… net in place, wind down and fish on!  It felt heavy to begin but the fully bent rod had the fish moving towards me.  It plodded about in the deep margin then decided it didn’t want to be there and tried to power off.  I don’t like giving line but this fish was making me fight to hold on, the new Grey’s rod absorbed this all nicely and a decent fish was soon netted.  With the net secured in the margin I sorted out the forceps, scales and camera for a quick self take.  The double hook had a solid hold in the scissor but came out easily, the scales showed the fish was heavier than expected.  She was a lovely dark spotty fish but had a chunk of tail missing and scratches down one flank, definite signs of Otter attention here too.  The other flank looked nice which is obviously the one shown in the photo but on reflection I should have took a snap of both sides.  After the quick photo I slipped her back, a much better result than I’d expected when I left home, nice one! 

There were still loads of silvers topping so I recast the smelt and adjusted the depth on the mackerel so my bait lay on the bottom.  I felt I was in with another chance so decided to sit tight for another half hour or so.  As this time passed by I began to tidy up, getting as much as possible stowed away while it was still light enough to see.  The oval brolly stowed away as easy as it went up I’m happy to say.  I packed away the leger rod leaving the two float rods sitting on microns with the tips in the air.  I always pack up this way, leaving the rods to the absolute last minute.  At 1635 it was fully dark when the Micron cried out alerting me to the Mackerel heading off into deeper water at a rate of knots.  Same routine with the net again and this time the ancient Tricast rod bent round and into a Pike.  This one pulled like one of its big sisters and when the head torch picked it out it was smaller than I expected but still a pleasing fish.  Fish were still topping so I sent the bait out again and sat back with a grin.  For once the Pike had behaved just like the books tell us they should in mid-winter; I’d had a lay in and a couple of nice fish too.  It was only at this point that I realised they were my first Pike of 2015, I’m up and running for the year. 

I sat it out until I couldn’t see the floats at all and the silvers had all but stopped topping.  By this time the flask was empty and my stomach was growling for a feed.  By 1730 I was back in the car and heading home with Black Keys rattling the speakers.  It would be nice if The Pike always fed at a nice comfortable hour of the day and I could have a lay in every week.  It was interesting to see the water come alive as the light faded so maybe they do and I can?  For a short while at least.