Two out of two

The forecast said it should be the mildest night for a fortnight and I had it all planned, I would be up before light and by the lake by the crack of dawn.  The Tench would be sure to succumb to a tempting, wriggling bunch of red maggots, I couldn’t fail…  Unfortunately the Purple Princess had car trouble; the exhaust was laying on the drive so my master plan had to change.  I would have to drop her at work on the way to the lake and if that wasn’t bad enough I would have to pick her up again afterwards.  Not only would I miss the dawn period I wouldn’t be able to fish through dusk either!

By 0845 I was finally fishing with two feeders baited with red maggots and a third rod float fishing corn in the margins.  The morning was gloomy but mild with a fresh south westerly wind pushing into the bay.  It seemed pretty good conditions for a spring Tench but I absolutely wasn’t feeling it, I had zero confidence and after forty five minutes I’d had a bit of a rethink.  The float remained in the shallows with a little groundbait and a handful of corn.  One of the feeders was swung out underarm and dropped on top of the shelf with a bit of corn and one red maggot on a strong 16 hook.  I hoped these two rods would give me a chance of any Tench having a late breakfast.  On the other feeder rod I went all out for Roach and continued to cast about twenty five yards to the bottom of the shelf. On this rod I switched to a short four inch hooklength with three red maggots on a size 18.  

 Hours passed without the slightest sign of a fish but I was content sitting in my little clearing in the woods which was warm and sheltered from the strengthening wind.  For company I had the birds; a Robin joined me for a while as did a shy Wren and Blackbirds came and went.  Once again the birdsong was constant and at this lake, undisturbed by the drone of traffic.  The water was busy with fowl; a pair of Swans guarding a huge nest, squabbling coots, a pair of Shelduck and Grebes who seemed to be catching as little as I was.  As for the fishing well I was obviously doing it all wrong but with the gear and bait available today there was little else I could do.  It would be a few weeks before I could return and the weather would likely be much warmer then.  I began to mull over how I would fish when I could get back to the lake wearing shorts and a tee shirt…

Around 1400 my float slid purposefully away and even more surprisingly, I was actually looking at it at the time.  My luck continued as I managed to pick up the rod and set the hook.  After a bit of wriggling and splashing I managed to bring a good sized Roach to hand!  It was a nice fish but not as big as those I’d caught recently but I decided to weigh it and was surprised when it pulled the needle round to just over a pound.  I got the float back out there with a little more loose feed and was about to settle down again when the longer range feeder rod beeped a few times.  It seemed like a few fish were about so I set about rebaiting both feeder rods.  Cue a series of mis-casts and other cock ups!

 I hoped for a little feeding spell but it didn’t happen but at least I wouldn’t be going home empty handed.  I sat back in my chair and settled into a kind of relaxed semi slumber broken only by recasting the feeders every fifteen minutes or so.  It’s a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon!

Around 1530 the alarm on the longer range feeder rod sang and the spool started spinning, another bite out of nowhere and once again I even managed to bend into a fish.  The ripping take could only have come from a Tench but the bend in the rod said otherwise.  A big silver shape materialised and I ever so carefully inched it towards the net.  My too heavy tackle soon had the job done and I peered down at a Roach that was clearly a good deal bigger than my first.  I felt pretty certain I had my third PB Roach of the spring and at 1.12 the scales agreed.  I even decided to set up the self-timer for a proper trophy shot which came out surprisingly well!  I’m usually crap at photographing the smaller species.

 Once again I sat on the edge of my chair expecting a flurry of action but sadly it didn’t happen.  Maybe if I had been able to fish till dusk I would catch a couple more fish but I was running out of time now.  Normally I’d pack away as slowly as possible, making the most of every minute and leaving the rods till last but today dark clouds and annoying drizzly rain saw me clearing up and away quickly.  It had been a strange day but a productive one just two proper bites and two proper Roach!

The weather is warming up at last and its certain the roach will spawn very soon, meaning our best chance of a whacker has passed.  Both Rich and I have taken our opportunity with a handful of 1lb+ Roach and PB’s for both of us.  The fishing has been almost alien to us but we’ve managed to learn and stumble along.   What is most pleasing is we have done things our own way, caught fish from a swim that no one else has even talked about.  We haven’t jumped on any bandwagons and have only used the grapevine to avoid other anglers!  Now the water is warming up its time to think hard about catching Tench!

Bleak

April has been frustrating, just when it seems like spring is approaching two weeks of winds from the north and east made it a cold horrible month.  Fishing time has been limited and I’ve only managed one further visit to the big lake.  I tried to hedge my bets again, tackling up hoping for Tench or Roach but managed neither.  The only bite of the day came in the near dark as I was packing up.  What I have to decide is what do I want to catch most, Roach or Tench?  I know I have a chance of the silvers in the spot I fancy for Tench but there are probably better areas.   Apart from that I’ve been out and about, walking and exploring, looking for signs and clues.  Fishing new waters is a buzz, it’s given my fishing a new injection of enthusiasm. It’s frustrating that my calendar is really full this spring and I don’t know how much time I’ll be able to spend at the lake, not enough that’s for sure.

The angling world has been saddened recently by the deaths of Dave Kelbrick and Jan Porter.  Both men were not only fine anglers but more unusually both were universally liked.  Dave was best known as a Pike angler and was particularly renowned as a lure angler.  Jan was initially famous as a highly successful match angler who in later years became an all-rounder, fishing for anything that swam.  I met Dave just the once, enjoying a pleasant chat at the PAC conference a few years ago.  He and son Luke were warm and friendly just as people who know them far better have described.  I had the pleasure of Jan’s company a couple of times, once spending a full day with him and he really was my kind of bloke; kind, generous and funny.  We found we had things other than fishing in common too.  RIP Dave and Jan.

Red eyes or red fins?

The coming of spring means it’s time to begin a period of masochism as I take on my nemesis, Tench.  I think I enjoy fishing for the red eyed slimy greenbacks because I am so hopeless at catching them and I find challenging fishing so much more interesting, I may have mentioned that before...  This year I have three, (count them; one, two, three) new waters to have a go at.  The first is a pit that has actually been stocked with Tench in recent years and I should have a realistic chance of catching one or two, despite never having fished it before.  The second is an old lake with a long history of good Tench fishing but this has suffered the attention of the furry hell hounds in recent years.  I may not get round to trying for these fish this year but this water has other attractions. 

The third water is one I fished a lot for all species in the last century but never managed to catch a Tench from.  This place is by far the most challenging; a big, deep and mysterious lake, but reports in recent years suggest Tench have become a viable target.  However if I manage one greenback from here this year I will consider it a result.  Happily there are other diversions to entertain me while not catching Tench, the Roach fishing is also very good.  If I’m a bad Tench angler then I’m a terrible Roach angler although to be fair, most of the times I’ve targeted them it has been done with the intention of putting them in a bucket.  In all my (almost) forty years of angling I can only recall catching two Roach that weighed over a pound, my PB standing at just 1lb 4ozs.  Angling is so often about timing, good fishing can be cyclical and being on the right water at the right time is key.  It has become apparent that the Roach fishing on this water could be too good to miss.

So where should I start this spring?  Maybe the sensible thing would be to have an early crack at the pit as a confidence boost before I move onto more challenging fishing.  I rarely do sensible so it’s feet first onto the big lake then!  I had a few clues as to where Tench might appear and made the effort to visit a couple of times and walk the banks without tackle.  One area I visited looked pretty but didn’t say “Tench” to me but what do I know?  As much as this area felt wrong the second place felt absolutely spot on.  This is a large bay with depths down to 25 feet in the mouth but overall averaging about 12 feet and a lot of water which is much shallower.  There is evidence of weed growth already and lots of willow roots for Tench to spawn in.  It was also a beautiful, quiet spot to while the hours away in.  This would do for now!

April arrived with winds from the East but mild temperatures.  I told myself there was no time like the present, the shallower water of the bay would be warming up in the spring sun and I would be in with a chance.  A lot of my Tench fishing in recent years has been with boilies and hair rigs but with the bonus Roach in mind I didn’t want to fish this way.  It was time to dive in the shed for a rummage and see what I have to hand.  Eventually after much shifting of dust I came out with an old 11ft Tricast 2lb test rod, a Daiwa Barbel rod, my one and only feeder rod and for float fishing the 11ft pellet waggler.  The lake is snaggy and I see no point in hooking fish only to lose them so my default setting is to go heavy.  Two suitable reels were already loaded with 12lbs mono, that would do.  These were screwed onto the Barbel rod and the old Tricast. 

A bit of research and reading had convinced me to use feeder rigs and red maggots on the hook.  After a quick search of “Lumbland” I found a helicopter set up to copy, I twisted it a bit but it’s still basically the same, thanks Dave.  I tied up some size 16 Matrix ‘feeder rigger’ hooks onto 6” hooklengths of 0.20mm line, which is 9lbs breaking strain in real money.  I’ve used the Matrix hooks for a couple of years; they are big and strong and have never let me down. Groundbait would be a mixture of Expo, brown crumb and crushed hemp with maggots and casters added.  I know a proper Roach angler would not know whether to laugh or cry at my methods but first and foremost I want to have a good chance of landing a big Tench.  I’ve also learnt that hungry Roach aren’t always shy of crude tackle having caught many by accident while Tench fishing.

So I was all ready to go and feeling enthusiastic although not motivated to leave my warm bed at an early hour.  I figured the best chance of fish would be after the sun had warmed the water for a few hours and the afternoon into evening would be the best time.  Rich agreed with me so we met at the big lake around 0900.  After a quick walk around we settled into two swims that would put us in shelter from the brisk Easterly wind.  There were signs of post spawn Pike in the margins and I had intended to use my normal counting down lures method of plumbing.  Unfortunately I’d forgotten to bring the lure rod so I had to use the old fashioned plummet and waggler method.  This revealed what I expected; a gradual slope into eleven feet of water at about thirty yards, the shelf was less steep on the left side of the swim so I decide to concentrate here.

 By 1000 I had two feeder rods fishing, one at about twenty yards in eight feet of water the other at the bottom of the shelf.  Both were clipped up, the plan was to keep landing the feeders on the same spots, time after time and gradually build up some feed.  Next door Rich fished a mixture of baits and methods so between us we hoped to find out what worked.  The bay was a lovely place to relax, even in early spring it’s a beautiful spot.  The only thing it appeared to lack was fish, of any kind.  This didn’t deter me too much, in truth I didn’t expect to catch a great deal.  Today was about dipping my toes in and getting a feel for the fishing, the first step on a road that I hoped would lead to Tench and big Roach.

So it was a great surprise when after just an hour, the closer rod signalled a steady take.  I struck and the Barbel rod thumped over, held then thumped again as a fish started to slowly take line.  For a few seconds something heavy plodded around and then it all went slack.  I wound in to find the 9lbs hooklength hard parted.  What had I been attached to?  My first instinct was big Tench.  There are very few Carp in this water, it could have been a big Eel, maybe even a Pike but still I thought Tench.  I should have felt gutted but this was tempered by a massive confidence boost.  There were fish in the bay!

I got a fresh rig back in the area as quickly as possible and put a third rod out fishing maggots on a waggler close in.  Would this be the start of something?  After that nothing happened for hours, once again it seemed like the only fish in the bay were the Jack Pike that kept swimming passed our feet.  Undeterred I kept doing what I was doing, putting the feeders on the spot regularly and hopefully building up a nice banquet for any fish that might move in.  I was really enjoying the fishing and still felt confident.

In the mid-afternoon the sun was smothered by a blanket of cloud and some annoying drizzle started to fall on occasions.  But the good news was fish were showing, there were Roach in the bay too.  This was confirmed around 1600 when Rich hooked a decent fish on maggots.  His quiver rod was bent over nicely and we were eager to see what was on the end.  We never got the chance as the hook pulled allowing what was almost certainly a good sized Roach to escape.  Shortly after this I managed to chuck my waggler into a tree.  Was it going to be one of those days?  With no suitable floats spare I changed this rod to a maggot feeder with an 18 hook on a 4lbs hooklength and pinged it into the area I had baited all day.  Rich started to get a few taps and rattles on his quiver tip and it looked like he had some feeding fish in his swim.  He was fishing a lot lighter and more sensibly, were the fish laughing at the crude feeder rigs on my other two rods?  We were still fishless but still confident and I was sure something would happen, a few more fish were showing themselves now too. It struck me that the birdsong had been constant, all day without let up.  Lovely!  Here I was fishing feeders for Roach of all things!  What’s more I was thoroughly enjoying myself!

Around 1700 I finally had a bite on the longer range rod.  I struck a twitchy take but there was nothing there.  An hour later it happened again, should I let these things hang themselves instead of striking rattles?  This signalled the start of a feeding spell, I had short pulls and tip rattles regularly and at last some proper bites.  At 1820 I finally hooked another fish.  Despite my totally OTT tackle this fish was obviously a decent size and despite being out matched it didn’t want to give up easily.  However within a few seconds I had it in the net where Rich and I admired a large, almost fin perfect Roach.  I didn’t have the first clue just how big it was so out came the scales which surprised us both by swinging round to a healthy 1lb 8ozs.  I had a PB Roach at the first attempt!

 Rich was gutted, not because I had caught but because he had to pack up at and at this moment things looked better than they had all day.  I decided to fish on into the dusk period and this was rewarded half an hour later by another proper bite, this time on the maggot feeder I’d hastily chucked out.  I netted a second Roach that wasn’t as deep bodied but definitely a bit longer, the scales recorded exactly the same weight, a brace of PB roach! 

Light faded and the rain increased, I tidied up all the non-essentials and huddled under the oval, staring out into the gloom.  I still received regular twitches and rattles and just wanted one more fish before packing up, nothing new there then.  At last the middle, longest range rod was off and running and I hooked another Roach.  This one wasn’t in the same league as the other two and didn’t require the net.  A few weeks earlier it would have been gratefully received and mounted on a Pike trace.  After that I slowly packed the rods away before loading up and yomping back to the car.  It had been a really enjoyable day and hopefully the start of some interesting spring fishing.  

The Pike strikes back

I keep reading on Facebook and forums that in order to achieve safe bite indication when Pike fishing I need to use a lot of lead.  I read that 3ozs is considered pretty much standard these days, regardless of the conditions.  I can’t remember the last time I felt the need for a 3ozs lead and I’d guess I’d use that much weight a couple of times a season at most.  I don’t often need to fish at long range and I rarely fish in a heavy flow these days.  I always work on the principle of using as little weight as possible and when fishing weedy water I often use none at all, relying on the weight of the bait and a float of course.  I want the Pike to feel as little resistance as possible and this does not cause any bite indication issues because I watch my floats.  However if I’m in the boat and can’t see the float I do add weight but rarely more than a couple of ounces.

Back in the early eighties it was common practice to freeline deadbaits.  We’d cast our half Herrings out, wait as the bait sank then carefully tighten the line.  Bite indication was the original optonic and a home-made bobbin crafted from string, a wine cork and a hair grip.  Now I can accept there are better ways to do this but you know what?  It didn’t cause strings of deep hooked Pike because the indication was crude but actually worked.

I think the whole 3ozs lead thing may have come about because modern anglers have become used to relying on alarms for their bite indication.  It’s sensible to clip up tight to a heavy lead if you are not actually looking at the water and many anglers like to bivvy up or socialise on the bank these days.  However, I think there is a better way.

Another thing that gets the Pike police going is spring Piking.  Many say that as soon as there’s a whiff of spring we should all jack it in so the Pike can spawn in peace.  The facts are Pikers have fished at spawning time for decades, many crossed seas and borders to do so.  There doesn’t seem to be any evidence that this practice does any harm.  Let’s face it; before they spawn they are very finicky.  When the Pike are actually spawning they don’t want a bait anyway. 

After spawning, if your timing is right it is well worth a visit.

None of this had any bearing on a decision to fish for Pike today, the third weekend in March.  I had a half arsed plan to dispose of my remaining deadbaits by soaking a few of them in a large stillwater that I haven’t fished for a long time.  Rich had a similar plan so as we couldn’t remember the last time we had fished together we decided to team up and have a relaxing social trip.  The weather in these parts has been stuck for weeks with a high pressure system bringing North Easterly winds and uninspiring temperatures.  We met around 6am, yomped away from the car for a mile or so then gradually fished our way back.  The weather was shit, the cold wind in our chops and we blanked.  As ever we put the world to rights (the tories are proper bastards), relived the nervous Grand slam match and the shocking T20 win.  We also made plans for some spring fishing that will be a complete change for both of us.  It was a really nice way to end the season.

Every now and again I am lucky to fish in the company of Mr N and equally fortunate to visit a lovely water that I call ‘Ted’s place’ and a few weeks ago we spent another great day afloat.  On the evening before I was buzzing, despite feeling dodgy and despite the miserable weather forecast.  As usual in such circumstances I barely slept and was out of bed before the alarm went off.

We met at 0630 and we were afloat by 0700, thankfully the rain held off but we knew it wouldn’t last.  We fished three deadbaits each and spent a highly enjoyable day getting blown around and thoroughly rained on.  The chat flowed easily, the world was put to rights and we laughed regularly. I think I had the first take but managed to lose a Jack then Mr N did exactly the same.  I then struck thin air before the duck was finally broken.  After that we caught fish regularly and the average size was pleasing.

Around 0930 I hit into a Pike that was clearly a better one, it took a Mackerel at close range and was bundled into the net quickly where it grew into a camera and scales fish.  The hooks came out easily, the scales made me grin and I held it up for the camera.  This still lively fish gave a big twist and managed to head butt me right in the kisser, busting my lips and drawing blood!  I didn’t care though, happy days.

We moved regularly and the sport continued, in the early afternoon the rain stopped and the sky cleared.  The fishing slowed a bit but not much.  In the mid-afternoon I hooked another big fish on a close range Mackerel and this too was in the net quickly.  I decided to unhook it over the side and with my hand in its gill it twisted and thrashed, skinning my knuckles, twisting my fingers and leaving me bruised and in pain.  Bleeding, swollen knuckles and a bust lip, I looked like I’d been fighting but I still didn’t care.

Mr N finished the day with two more good fish and together we had another combined total well into three figures.  I’d been lucky to catch the two best fish but Mr N had put me onto them, all I’d done was cast out and reel in.  It doesn’t really matter which way the luck falls.

These all action days are rare for me and I don’t take them for granted.  It’s been a mixed winter for me, lots of searching around for little reward but a good decision or two and a bit of luck has made it into a smiley one.  Once again most of my Pike fishing this past season has been spent on a big wet, hostile marsh, struggling to find an ever decreasing head of Pike.  There was a strange feeling about the place this season.  It was difficult to stay confident at times and the weather always seemed gloomy.  The sun rarely seemed to poke through and I hardly saw the spectacular flatland skyscapes at either end of the day.  And by God it was tough! Why do we do it?  Well it’s not the fish, it’s the fishing.  You’ll either get that or you won’t.

Madness

Politics, hypocrisy, double-speak, stupidity, madness.  I'm sure I've used all of those words when talking about the Broads Authority over the last few years but sadly anglers in other areas have to put up with the same kind of bullshit.  In Northern Ireland PAC' region 43, led by Colin Rutherford and Steve Powell are campaigning to protect their sport on the Erne system.  South of the border Kenny Sloan has video'd gill netting by the IFI.
Please click the link below to 'Lumbland' where Dave has his say, then watch the video.

http://blog.lumbland.co.uk/

All of these  ridiculous examples of ecological mismanagement are actually costing tax payers money.

Full of it...

Last week scientists from the John Innes Centre who have been studying the Prymnesium parva algae put forward a theory that resonated with anglers.  The scientists suggest a virus may be present in the silt and when disturbed it may be this that causes the Prymnesium to release its toxin.  Obviously this would suggest that dredging is dangerous, as anglers have been saying for a long time.

Sadly this has no effect on the great minds at the Broads Authority, they still risk the chain of life just so unsuitable craft can be sailed.  This was the scene in Norfolk last week.  Yes the BA continues to dredge using antiquated equipment while they plead ignorance of the latest scientific findings.  If conclusive prove appeared to be imminent the BA would probably just speed up the work.

Remember the Broads Authority is the organisation that bestowed the title "National Park" upon the area even though it doesn't meet the criteria.  Surely this is dishonest?  How can an organisation that behaves this way be trusted?

Memory lane

Since the new year I've continued fishing here and there on East Anglian stillwaters.  Another drive to 'Strangeways' resulted in a blank when everything looked spot on.  I also had a great day as a guest of Mr N when we caught plenty of fish though nothing of any size.  I always love Pike fishing, wherever I fish but I was beginning to feel the itch of withdrawal and an urge to get the boat out.

At the beginning of the week my mind was made up, I was going to the special place. As the days passed the forecast got worse and worse and I began to look for other options.  I had some precious time and was desperate to fish but where should I go?  I couldn’t get enthusiasm to travel to Strangeways and ‘Nail a tenner’ had been up and coloured when I’d gone for a look the week before.  I’ve found that normally clear pits fish badly when they colour up quickly, would it have settled down enough by now? 

There was a water close by that I had planned to fish this year but the word on this one had well and truly got out so I had opted to avoid the crowds.  However it is a place I knew well having fished it a lot in the past and I remembered a little fished area where the Pike used to move into at this time of year.  This may be a pre spawn gathering or it might just be fish moving away from the easy access, pressured swims.  How much would things have changed in the last quarter of a century?  The area would involve a long walk, and there was the risk I’d find a weekend Carp angler already bivvied up.  If that was the case there was a second swim I fancied but this was would involve even more effort to reach. I found myself finding reasons not to bother.

On Friday evening I had hoped to find a better forecast but the strong winds remained. I had very little enthusiasm but went through the motions of getting my gear ready to fish from the bank, somewhere.  The forecast threatened morning rain as well as the strong winds so I’d have to carry more gear than I’d like.  Could I really be arsed to fish the old place?  I decided I should get my gear sorted and ready to load and just see how I felt when the alarm went off.  Going to bed knackered I felt the chances that motivation would strike at 0600 were 50/50 at best.

The alarm woke me and I lay listening to the sounds coming from outside.  I could hear the rush of wind but I couldn’t hear rain on the window.  I swung myself out of bed and staggered clumsily around the house for half an hour before I managed to load the car and get away.  A short while later I rolled through the gate, happy to see an empty car park.  I loaded up and set off on a long walk through shit sticky mud.  I remember these muddy paths regularly clogging the wheels of my bike when I was a mad keen young piker.  By the time I reached the point where the path divided I was sweating and breathing heavily and it was this that settled the swim choice, I decided to fish the nearer, easier of the two swims.

The morning had a little drizzle on the wind and was very cloudy, all very dim.  I set up patiently as I needed a little light to see my targets.  My swim was a point jutting out into the lake, I always like bottleneck swims and this one has a gap leading to another bay and a nice tree lined island in front of me.  I legered a Lamprey in the gap and float legered half a Bluey alongside the island.  Both were tricky casts but they seemed to OK, as far as I could see through the gloom.  As usual my third rod was a paternoster rig baited with smelt.  I whacked this out into open water with the intention of twitching back but it occurred to me I hadn’t actually caught anything on this method for quite a while.  I also went through the routine of casting a spinnerbait around, counting down and checking depths.  My memory didn’t need too much of a jog as I’d spent a lot of time in this swim, albeit a quarter of a century ago, things hadn’t changed much at all beneath the water at least.  The banks are now unrecognisable as the place I used to fish.  Reminiscing I realised this swim had produced no less than three PB Pike for me when I was a teenage Piker.  It was also here, around that time that my Dad took a January swim to retrieve the brolley I’d received that Christmas which had uprooted and blown onto the island!

1985

 After a while I settled down under the oval brolly.  I rarely use this thing but every time I do I’m impressed by how stable it is on these windy days.  After about an hour I got out of the shelter and twitched the paternoster rig back a bit then started pinging the spinnerbait about again.  After a couple of casts a micron started tinkling, I looked round to see the float on the paternoster rig was travelling slowly but surely towards me.  I wound into a decent weight which I pumped slowly back towards me.  The fish felt fairly heavy but did nothing much other than splash a bit in the shallows and pull the rod down a bit, then it was in the net.  I left it there while I got all the paraphernalia ready then hoisted her out and onto the mat.  Hooks out easy, a couple of quick self takes then onto the scales, (a little heavier than I expected and within a couple of ounces of one of those eighties PB’s,) then back into the pit.

 I quickly recast a fresh Smelt on the paternoster and also decided to do the same with the other two rods as it was now fully light.  Both splashed down bang on target, happy days.  I sat back with a smile and a brew, delighted to catch a decent Pike on my first visit to this water for a very long time.  By this time the 2^nd ODI match had started so I had a nice morning chilling out and listening to the coverage on TMS.  It seemed a decent match with England just taking enough wickets to keep South Africa in check.  The Lamprey cast into the gap had landed nicely so I just left it there as I the strengthening wind would make a recast difficult.  Fishing from a peninsula gave me lots of water to cover and this I did with the other two rods and, from time to time with the lure rod.

The morning passed happily but it was still gloomy with a howling wind, it was going to be one of those sunless days. This mild winter has been bizarre but still I was surprised to see white blossom buds on the branches of a tree.  I was content and comfortable but I wasn’t catching so began to consider a move back towards the car.  These thoughts were shattered by the wail of the ‘Billy’, the Lamprey in the gap was moving.  I wound down quickly and had a repeat of the first fish, I pumped it straight back and into the net.  Grabbing the arms I peered down onto another good sized Pike, I began to suspect it was the same one I’d caught earlier.  The scales told me it was a couple of ounces lighter.  I decided to photograph it on the mat but like a muppet I clicked the wrong flank and now I’ll never know for sure if it was a repeat capture.

It seemed sensible to stay put but getting a bait back into the gap took about five attempts before I was happy.  An hour later this same rod was away again, hoping for a hat trick I wound down and felt a Pikey head shake before all went slack.  I hate losing any fish but at least this one had felt small.  By now it was early afternoon and England were batting steadily, not piling the runs on but keeping wickets intact with Hales looking set for a big score.  I stuck to the plan of keeping a bait in the gap while I searched the water with the other two rods.  A friend came for a visit and drew my attention to a nice treeline alongside the peninsula I sat on.  I’d left the paternoster here for twenty minutes or so earlier but decided to chuck half a Bluey just ‘round the corner’.  This bait was in place for about forty five minutes before it was picked up but this time I wound down and struck thin air!  Oh well, get it back out there there’s still a chance.

Back under the oval, in South Africa the cricket was heading for a tense, tight finish but then Buttler hit three sixes and Ali two fours to finish the match with England looking more comfortable than any of us fans actually felt.  I started casting the spinnerbait around again, instead of covering the bottom I buzzed it back quickly in mid water hoping to attract the attention of any Pike.  Maybe it worked because the float leger moved off again and this time I managed to set the hooks into a jack with attitude which helpfully unhooked itself in the net.  

When I left home in the morning I hadn’t planned to stay out much after lunch time but the cricket had taken me well into the afternoon so I decided to fish on till dusk.  I cannot remember the last time I fished a whole day for Pike sat in one place.  There was no sunset as I hadn’t seen the thing all day.  Bird life had been sparse today too just a few swans and geese along with a couple of ducks.  A brief visit from a Blackbird had been the only bankside birdy visitor.  Maybe I should have stayed into darkness but I started to tidy up ahead of darkness and ended up carrying on and going home before I needed a head torch.  It had been nice to catch fish from an old haunt and this water seems to have a reasonable head of Pike again these days.  I may come back again some time, maybe not for a while. I'm still itching to get the boat out on the Broads again.