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Friday, 19 June 2015

Seriously!?

The bloggers challenge is working it's magic...

More spare time, more opportunity for reconnecting with our glorious English countryside and the motivation of a shared endeavour to catch something special. Thank Izaak I didn't sell my rods and with them my church.

A story of something new you ask? Something fresh, one of twists, turns, happy endings, and the like of which I at least I have never witnessed before?

Settle in. This is a belter.....


Kids in tow, my good friend Dan and I arrived at the campsite pool at almost exactly the same time. Whips were prepared for the boys who had maggots and endless silvers on their mind whilst my girl  resolved to sit it out down the very edge for something larger.

Waterfowl abounded - moorhens, coots, geese, you name it. All were present with their young clutch in tow. Cute.

Our makeshift party had the outward appearance of travelling folk such was the bustle, chatter and general good humour. My girl held a vigil over her float positioned tight to the grass.

Within thirty minutes Abbey struck into something taking both line and a liking to the corn and the fish attached became the centre of our party's concentration. Whips were laid down, landing nets were readied far too early and everyone stood.



The scrap with the fish went according to plan. I'd set the clutch sympathetically and it was give and take for a while.



That's when shit got weird.

A pair of swans with half a dozen cygnets made haste to where we all stood. Abbey doesn't like swans: 'break your arm' and all that so she was the first to exit the scene.

The rod was rapidly handed to me and the fish landed by Dan's eldest son. Meanwhile the swan family had climbed out of the pool and the parent's wings were spread. They hissed, they flapped and they ran at us. Every minor sought refuge in my car.

Dan and I looked at each other dumbfounded. The carp lay on the unhooking mat but every time we tried to get anywhere near it we were driven away.


The carp, not unreasonably becoming tired of the the air decided to flap on the mat at which point both feathered parents charged it and started beating the fish up with their wings as it lay on the ground.

The unhooking mat blew away in the wind and despite mine and Dan's most manly efforts with landing nets and loud voices we couldn't get near the fish without being forced to retreat.

At this point Dan put his beer down.

After a conflab he got into his car and drove the aggressive parents away from the fish by sounding his horn and flashing his lights at no more than one mile an hour. 


This gave me opportunity to retrieve the fish, take a quick phone snap and foregoing any ceremony of weighing return it to the water where it rested before swimming away.

For the record I'm sure it was the same fish we caught last outing here and which Abbey is holding in that post's final photo.




Not content in ruining the carp's day the swans went on to attack a caravan, an awning, a man walking across the field with a water roller before finally moving onto the canal presumably to sink a number of barges.





Since this episode I caught a nice carp - 19.3 from Jubilee pools.


There's been plenty of this....



...and this....



.... and even this.....




The final atrocity captured on camera during our memorably session with the swans was when Dan's two young boys brutally chased my son and beat him relentlessly with wild rhubarb. I don't think he will ever recover!!! :)



This fishing lark is also harder than I remember, I've also:
  • Not caught a carp from the canal
  • Not caught a carp from Ryton
  • Not caught a carp at Jubilee
But the rivers are back in now,,,


As I type at 23:00 there's still a gloaming of light out there... make the most of it boys.

Cheers.


Sunday, 3 May 2015

Nothing Serious.



I too have decided to join in the fun with the Bloggers 2015/16 Challenge.

I read a post by George Burton some time back explaining the plot which he, Russell and Jeff were hatching and the thought of entering swilled around my brain for a week or two before something happened which had me tearing at my laptop bag in the affirmative.

My planned itinerary for a day off work was changed all of a sudden. So after a minor lie in I found myself with the day stretched out before me. After the gym I went fishing for the afternoon at Leamington Angling's Jubilee pools. The tench and roach were biting freely on the float and come hometime I'd had a great afternoon in the sun.

Sparkling Roach.....

.... and a Golden Tench!

But it was once I returned home and was putting the gear away in the garage - the bricks of which had soaked up the sun's heat leaving it warm whilst outside the dusk air cooled rapidly - that I had a strong desire to write about fishing again.

Admittedly not actually going fishing that much is probably enough of a reason for this thought not to have occurred to me before then, but occur it did, so I put two and two together and surmised that entering the challenge might provide the required impetus to quench my thirst.

Let's see.

I began my quest for mind-blowing monsters on the busy bank holiday campsite pool at the back of the Blue Lias reservoir. Now this is absolutely the wrong place to start such a quest as the small pool undoubtedly holds nothing to raise even the eyebrow of your seasoned specimen hunter, but with children in tow and a couple of shiny new whips to christen begin here it did.

We caught skimmers, rudd, perch and tench on the whips. The sun came out and the air-engines revved-up a stiff breeze.

By mid-afternoon bread crusts were flung and the noisy slurping commenced. A couple of small carp off the top quickly followed then a half-decent common could be seen making shapes for the loaf.

It's 'impressive' size meant things quickly became a good deal more serious for the children, and it was tracked to the windward bank on bended-knee and in hushed tones.

It fed cautiously, hard against the marginal grass and came and went a number of times.

I did what I do best and took cover amongst the foliage of a convenient sapling (I could hear them laughing at me in their caravans.....think about that....someone in a caravan laughing at you). I dangled my bread onto the water where I next expected leviathan to make an appearance, line perpendicular to the surface. Good as gold the dark shape materialised after an anxious few minutes and sipped down supper. 

I horsed the fish away from danger and handed the rod to the eldest who did the rest with aplomb - with the odd squeal from her and clutch.

So here she is, all thirteen eight of her. Common as you like, fun to chase round a pool and a big lover of bread products.

Miss A. Jobling.
Cheers.

Monday, 14 January 2013

For The Record....

For the record, our bloggers '2012 Top 5 Percentage of Record Weight' competition drew to a close at the end of 2012.

Once again there were some fantastic fish caught across all those who took part and I'm sure the challenge provided a framework for us to pursue fish which otherwise we might not otherwise have invested effort in chasing.

I was lucky enough to post another win but put that down to the time I had available rather than laying any claim to being a better angler than anyone else. As with any pursuit, the more you practice the luckier you become.

Our Final Scores.
So here's to next year. For me it will be a case of fish whenever I can with the aim of extracting maximum enjoyment from each session rather than the biggest fish. Sure I'll follow the seasons and the species like any seasoned angler does, and I'm certain I'll roll the dice on a big fish trip from time to time, but for now I'm looking forward to getting out in the countryside and getting some bites.

Here's the result of my last perch session of 2012, a 2lb 12oz perch on a prawn from a local commercial. I went all of last year without catching a three pounder. Something that I intend to put right in 2013!



Cheers. 

Friday, 26 October 2012

I Remember Blogging....

The last time I disappeared off here was because of the upheaval of a marriage break-up. That threw me headlong into almost two years solid fishing - long summer nights and some whackers on the bank - and very enjoyable it was too.

I met various assorted nutters on the bank at times when those wearing different heads were tucked-up indoors but it cemented my love of the English countryside in all it's seasonal glory.

This time I've been away because I've found something more beautiful than a mild autumn day, and quite simply fishing itself disappeared this summer. Does strange things to you it does. At one point I actually couldn't work my rods. I'd stand in my garage staring at them but not be able to work out what the hell I was meant to do with them. My malaise was the source of amusement to my fishing friends.

When I did try to get out I'd find myself sitting on my chair staring at the sunset and grinning inanely, rods still in bag. The funniest point came when I arranged to meet Danny and Andy on the river to try for a barbel. I didn't even set up. As Andy was balling in a barbely feast to mid-river I taunted every ball hitting the water with, "That's a Bream!".  To give him the opportunity for revenge I stood feet apart and arms outstretched and bet he couldn't hit me. It took just one thirty yard underarm lob from him and I was on tiptoes whilst the groundbait ball brushed the crotch of my trousers at top speed. That would have set me back a couple of years.

But enough of that.

With an afternoon free today I finally made it out perch fishing at a local commercial. I used two float rods, 'one on prawn, one on worm', and loose fed prawns and more sparingly red maggot. Bloody hell it was cold but I'd come dressed for it.  A Northerly wind persisted all afternoon which ate away at body warmth.

Bites were few and far between but every one was a perch, perhaps due to the cold snap. I ended up with five perch with two over two pounds. A very pleasant way to spend an afternoon and return to species I'm still very fond of.

Just hooked.

Here are the two pounders, they weighed two pound six and two pound nine.






A perch fishing trip a week ago found me attached to a seventeen pound ten ounce common which took a prawn.

17lb 10oz common.
  And at last knockings another two pound perch to a prawn.


Our gentle annual trip down to the River Itchen transmogrified into a proper bender meaning sore heads all round on a day which deserved to be purer. Not a brain cell between us.

Hazy. Very hazy.

We got very, very drunk which is neither big nor clever.


I caught an absolute shed load of these.

And finally by way of reminder (to me as much as any casual reader), we're having a bit of a competition this year to see who can catch the five largest fish from a selection of species.

I've greatly enjoyed reading about some fantastic captures and outings by others in recent months and perhaps now can hope to nudge my own score up before the finish line of 31st December.

Here are our scores:


Cheers.

Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Lochnaw Castle Roach.

I'd never caught a two pound Roach before.

The five steps to a fishing holiday are as follows:

Step 1. Book it.

The three criteria which must be fulfilled for this are; you can get the time off work, you can afford it, and lastly (as others who could not attend found to their cost...) you can get it past the missus!

In the grand scheme of things a trip to Lochnaw is not as expensive as you might imagine. All-in this trip cost me less than the fishing alone if I were targetting Scottish salmon for a week.

Step 2. Think about it. A lot.

This step sees post-it notes going up all over your abode, reminding oneself to pack various items of kit. Some are cryptic, for instance,  'rubber bands!' or 'carrier bags', whilst others are self-explanatory bits of tackle.

Step 3. Prepare for it.

Personally, this involved an evening in the pouring rain brewing up hemp and consolidating my gear.

Step 4. Execute the plan.

You can never consider all eventualities you will face but if you've put enough time into items two and three your wits should see you through.

Step 5. Reflect on it.

I'll be reflecting on this last trip for sometime as it was simply fantastic.

Warren Gaunt picked me up last Saturday morning and we headed North into heavy rain. After a tour of the loch in the back of an estate workers Landrover we discussed our preferred spots with the rest of our party - Phil Smith and John Found.

On a whim, Warren and I decided a little more time reccying the road bank was worth the effort given the spot we'd previously agreed on  involved a long walk from the car. We found a rocky beach, complete with rock pools, and talked ourselves into giving it a go. I even did that Bob Nudd thing where he faces the water, deliberately places both feet on the ground shoulder width apart and bounces slightly on his knees whilst surveying the water in front of him. Two hours later and we were almost ready to fish. The rain continued.


 I'll let the photos describe how events unfolded as they speak for themselves. Suffice to say I ended up catching twenty four two pound roach to two fourteen. The average size of the two pounders was two ten and I had multiple fish at all weights above two pounds eight. Between us we had forty two pound roach with two 'threes' amongst them.


I didn't go to bed for the first two nights as I was too excited to sleep. The scenery was as dramatic as the weather. We had eveything from wind in all directions to flat calm, bright and sunny to a months rain in twenty four hours. In fact the loch rose so much in the last twenty four hours of our trip our bivvies were under water by the time it came to leave and our rocky beach was gone, submerged for another year.


Saturday Night. 


I had six two pound roach, the biggest was two pounds thirteen ounces - a new pb. 


2.13 Lochnaw Roach. PB.

The rock pools proved very useful for mixing groundbait and washing hands.

Warren's first night fish of 2.14.

Six of the best, and up all night.


Sunday

I caught eleven two pound roach in a hectic evening session. I couldn't keep one rod in the water for long let alone two.






5 of 11

Stunning Lochnaw Roach.

6 of 11.

Warren's 3.2 Roach.
We celebrated our first 'three' with a couple of special beers.

The side bet on the Sunday night was whoever caught the biggest fish would have breakfast cooked for them the next morning.

Served to Warren on a silver platter I took my loss like a true gentleman.


Monday

I caught four two pound roach.



Tuesday


I caught two two pound roach including a new personal best of two pounds fourteen, and a two thirteen perch.


Warren watches his rods, from the margins (tit).

2.13 Perch caught as the feeder was on the drop.

Look at the mouth on that.

Wednesday


I didn't catch any two pound roach. I was thinking of asking for a full refund at this point.

We cast.


Warren's 3.0 roach.
We drank.



Thursday


I caught one two pound roach.

Then the rain came......



Dreach.


Grant Mitchel. Note the new water level!

Friday


It had now rained hard and constantly for over twenty four hours. We returned to the loch in the afternoon with the intention of fishing into evening but our shelters were now well underwater and I was soaked wet through every time I left cover to cast.

I hooked and lost one last decent roach which came off under the rod tip and now wet and deflated we decided to call it a day.

It came off Wal, it came off! My body language says it all.

They're not ripples in the foreground, that's Warren's floating groundsheet.

The one consolation in pulling off on Friday night was a night in the warm lodge with a chinese take away and beers whilst it lashed it down outside.

I ate this food.


Saturday

Homeward bound with a car full of soaking kit but with broad smiles on our faces.





Sunday

I headed down to the Warks Avon at Wasperton for a couple of hours to finish my fishing holiday off before  England played in the Euro quarter finals match and was rewarded with a 6.11 barbel.








Here are our challenge scores tonight:




Cheers.