tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61489046425841894332024-03-13T09:54:35.198+00:00The Pike Pool<center>High Quality articles from members and friends of the UK's No 1 Predator Fishing based forum The Pikers Pit.
Contributions, ideas and general correspondence please e-mail us pikepool@hotmail.co.uk</center>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.comBlogger110125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-90877232756891246342021-03-03T13:13:00.000+00:002021-03-03T13:13:05.061+00:00Holding Area & Route Theory Condensed<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDTLjNEHl0Z6p08B61mnkp_hyfM-VRmDhLcT6cM9rGZljLEPg-5vI-d5TfLdYm0MJqbGqPMB4orXG1woma7kb_T4c6qpzSEn-j26Di-06y6pW3YDJ8p2T1DTZGmtgLaSjT3EBhqIvCOhM/s2048/IMG_20170501_0001%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1457" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDTLjNEHl0Z6p08B61mnkp_hyfM-VRmDhLcT6cM9rGZljLEPg-5vI-d5TfLdYm0MJqbGqPMB4orXG1woma7kb_T4c6qpzSEn-j26Di-06y6pW3YDJ8p2T1DTZGmtgLaSjT3EBhqIvCOhM/s320/IMG_20170501_0001%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Many anglers are not interested in theories such as the one
I am going to try and explain and I have often heard that such ideas are
irrelevant to them as they only fish in areas where they have caught before.
This is, of course what the Route Theory is all about.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Nobody who has experienced the tribulations of Winter pike
fishing would ever be so brash as to try and explain what is going through a fish’s
mind or their thought patterns but some ideas can be gained from their
behaviour, habits and actions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The Route Theory is only a theory and as with all theories
they can neither be proved nor disproved but if you follow logic it is only
fair to think if that what is suggested makes sense and falls within your
experience over an extended period. If this is the case then it must have some
merit if nothing else.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I would like to clarify one thing and that is these theories
are best realised on big Lochs, Lakes, and Loughs which are dotted around the
Country. They are more prevalent on these types of waters because the distance
between each Route or Holding Area can be of a measurably distance but that
doesn`t mean that they don`t exist on smaller waters. On smaller waters they
can be closer together and difficult to differentiate.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Pike anglers who are observant will have realised that
certain behaviours reoccur and a good piker will never believe in coincidences
as coincidences work against nature where nothing is done just for the sake of
it. Pike don`t aimlessly move around a water haphazardly hoping to meet a dazed
silver fish for his meal or spend masses of energy chasing shoals of fish
around a water hoping to get lucky. Of course, this is what jack pike do as
they grow but soon realise that there are better ways to find a meal and with
age comes a change in behaviour to suit.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All pike movements
are designed precisely to make feeding an exact science which may not be dependent
on a pike’s intelligence but in its will to survive and if you analyse the life
expectancy of a pike and highlight what are its main objectives in that time then
I can only find two.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><ol><li><span style="font-family: arial; text-indent: -18pt;">To feed and grow as quickly as possible prior to
spawning</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial; text-indent: -18pt;">T</span><span style="font-family: arial; text-indent: -18pt;">o feed so as to produce spawn to further the
species</span></li></ol><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now if anyone can think of another then I would like to know
as these two factors will determine how Routes fall into their daily routine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If the two scenarios are accepted then the Route Theory can
be split into two depending on the time of year, e.g. feeding during the non-Winter
period and feeding during Winter to Spring months as follows;</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><ol><li><span style="font-family: arial; text-indent: -18pt;">Feeding Routes</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial; text-indent: -18pt;">Spawning Routes </span><span style="font-family: arial; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span></li></ol><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">These periods are dependent on conditions present at the
time and on the individual water.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><b>How can routes and holding areas be identified?</b></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><b></b></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcP7Bdk4ph84MXhfD4VZAVTydax8tsutrzvDbwPAiesaIwuS2qE3YajUVfUG8y-5qYBNzd8NydbmDHeJEc1cP3WwDYG37wakwQFJZr1D9kgUfwhaGRqFfe-gwhFp_mJv1DbHXHMZiU9AA/s2048/IMG_20170501_0003%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1452" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcP7Bdk4ph84MXhfD4VZAVTydax8tsutrzvDbwPAiesaIwuS2qE3YajUVfUG8y-5qYBNzd8NydbmDHeJEc1cP3WwDYG37wakwQFJZr1D9kgUfwhaGRqFfe-gwhFp_mJv1DbHXHMZiU9AA/s320/IMG_20170501_0003%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></i></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Not to alienate any specific type of pike fishing, the only
way a fuller picture of Routes and Holding Areas can be identified on big
waters is by being afloat using a method which can locate productive areas and
separate them out form non-productive ones. This could take a long time but if
you are regularly fishing a water it is worth the effort.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Float Trolling is that method and by moving around quickly
on an expanse of water dropping in on areas systematically it will soon be
noted that pike are normally caught in these areas to the exception of greater
expanses no matter how alluring these expanses may appear. I believe this is an
American method of fishing waters much bigger than those we have in the U.K.
and must be respected.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Very pikey areas can be pike less and for no apparent reason
other areas will produce on a regular basis. These areas will change when
spawning becomes a priority.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If I catch good size pike say once in five visits to a
Holding Area, I would consider that to be a worth constant revisits. These
spots can also be highlighted my watching where other are catching – maybe the
best way to start.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Failing this (and remembering not to look at the water, but
look through it), areas that visually indicate possible productive area are
rocky edges into deeper water, rocky outcrops, weed expanses, underwater
changes of contours like mounds or depressions, if you see a land point then
follow it out into the water and fish the point at whatever depth you select, a
common area like this is the end of islands etc. underwater joggles of contour
where the feature creates inner and outer curves. Loughs and Lochs are full of
these type of features but finding the productive ones is where the hard work
come in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One common statement that needs to be challenged is when
someone advises the angler to concentrate on the “drop offs”. Basically, true
but on a 20-mile Lough or Loch the number of areas which can be described as
“drop offs” is infinite depending on what the angler considers a “drop off” to
be. 2 foot into 10, 10 into 20, 20 into 40. Best of luck locating pike on a week’s
holiday.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk77KuEui5clUpthudU2CwpwWQR6LMrQtoE8Y0oqxL3sz6OWemJfNtRtpbWhbIXlUXOkPuzGBtlFNtCOsWrGC9gSfJNGmek4TWa7s0kVEBEcAOmnmTc8PvZuuoLmUgduWxTlyfC3o0Dn8/s1788/IMG_20170501_0012%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1172" data-original-width="1788" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk77KuEui5clUpthudU2CwpwWQR6LMrQtoE8Y0oqxL3sz6OWemJfNtRtpbWhbIXlUXOkPuzGBtlFNtCOsWrGC9gSfJNGmek4TWa7s0kVEBEcAOmnmTc8PvZuuoLmUgduWxTlyfC3o0Dn8/s320/IMG_20170501_0012%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>One good tip if moving around a big water float trolling is
always have a bait in the top 10 feet of water. Some anglers say that a pike
will come up from 40 feet to take a surface bait but the fact is that pike are
already up there in the top tier and not necessarily striking from depth. </span><span style="font-family: arial; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">To try and differentiate between the productivity of Holding
Areas and Routes I believe that Holding Areas will always be more productive
than Routes because pike spend more time in Holding Areas as a Route is a path
which pike move along and catching a pike whilst in transit is far less
probable. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This identification of these areas doesn`t limit the way you
can fish them as lures and dead or live baits can be used to great effect as it
is not the fishing method that catches the pike – it’s the location. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It is important to try and explain why these Holding Areas
exist and what purpose they achieve. If as a conclusion it is possible to
understand that pike do not dash all over a water looking for silver fish but
hide in redetermined areas waiting for the silver fish to come to them then you
have understood why this theory makes sense and can be accepted as something to
consider before deciding where to fish on a water that you are either familiar
or unfamiliar with.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Local knowledge on an unfamiliar water is key and talking to
other anglers can result not only in the location of swims that produce pike
but more importantly where pike are rarely or never caught. Known areas that
never produce pike are more important than anglers think. After all, when you
go fishing do you start in an area where you have caught before or where you
have never caught?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This doesn`t mean that areas of a water won`t produce pike
as I have always thought that no area will produce all of the time but all
areas will produce some of the time. Now that may sound a contradiction on what
I have previously said but don`t forget that these Holding Areas and
particularly the Routes between them are split into different times of the year
where behaviour changes to suit the pike reproductive cycle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Pike will use routes which are familiar to them exclusively
and these paths join up the holding areas which are used by pike to ambush
their prey because they are either using up as little energy as possible, lazy,
or just very clever. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnDbmrFolsBbLg3N5fsM7ptktSqFPPM9CuZRJyJWI3E3RWWC8GYdgY6hIulxxwiuzKhELm9AmyoEOzfr70GMYfNI15q09q7u2bBeSjA_ug_UztR0TMACe0UCDsiuA4UihodTW8572gYc/s1748/IMG_20170501_0024%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="1748" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnDbmrFolsBbLg3N5fsM7ptktSqFPPM9CuZRJyJWI3E3RWWC8GYdgY6hIulxxwiuzKhELm9AmyoEOzfr70GMYfNI15q09q7u2bBeSjA_ug_UztR0TMACe0UCDsiuA4UihodTW8572gYc/s320/IMG_20170501_0024%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;">How does this theory of holding areas manifest itself?? Well,
that’s an easy one.</span><span style="font-family: arial;">Over thirty
years of pike fishing large waters it has become clear to me that pike will normally
be caught in specific locations, which can be as small as 20 feet square in a
square mile of water. Pike don`t frequent every acre of water but are
concentrated in certain spots which consistently produce pike with other areas
being fallow.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now I accept any comments that this could be a
self-fulfilling prophecy, but before anyone hangs their hat on this statement,
I suggest you go out on these big waters and try catching pike from areas which
have never produced pike of significance before. You will encounter a glut of
blanks which is not what you want if on a week-long holiday. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Holding areas are selected by pike from experience of the
movement of the shoaling fish that move in their own way depending on either their
method of feeding or to avoid the undertow created by high winds which are
common during our Winter period. Shoals are rarely static and it is fair to assume
that they move around a water constantly in a predictable pattern. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Wouldn`t it be a wise move for a predator to position itself
in an area (through experience and learnt behaviour) when they knew that
eventually those very shoals would pass their way for ambush. And as shoal
movement can be predicted the predator would have more than one holding area to
pick from? These areas will always be the same which also means that the routes
joining them would be same. Routes that are used habitually to take the pike
from one productive area to another – it just makes sense. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Spawning Routes</b><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2HK2Epxd4mA9YE7uaVUjjJ6af3wTUPsechjHmk1zICPFdjZIR8ZsKKzRvwUMVkFBxD2RhYoGwh1fLKe-Jo4zVsUToFbhF4E3Yh4CGveQWxk_GhJY7As1o5z11j4ZWPpX2j6lG1gl7oQ/s1756/IMG_20170501_0014%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="1756" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2HK2Epxd4mA9YE7uaVUjjJ6af3wTUPsechjHmk1zICPFdjZIR8ZsKKzRvwUMVkFBxD2RhYoGwh1fLKe-Jo4zVsUToFbhF4E3Yh4CGveQWxk_GhJY7As1o5z11j4ZWPpX2j6lG1gl7oQ/s320/IMG_20170501_0014%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Depending on the water and temperature prevalent at the time
of year (usually sometime in January) things are about to take a dramatic turn.
A change in the behaviour of jack pike occurs and they start to shoal together
en mass for two reasons.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->To move into the shallow weedy areas and by
doing so they inadvertently select the spawning areas for that year. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->To hide from the marauding female who are
looking for that spawning area and also looking for an easy meal which a jack
pike will provide.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This behaviour is a characteristic of the jack pike species
that is critical to the spawning procedure and changes the movement of big pike
from its feeding habits to spawning ones and manifests itself by the jack pike grouping
up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The jack shoals can be immense in size and if located in
real shallow water can produce great sport, especially on lures, but more
importantly it is an indication that in adjacent open water larger pike will
(or can be) patrolling in a search for its prey – jack pike.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">With the jack pike “gone missing” from their usual haunts
larger pike spend their time both feeding to produce spawn and searching for
the predetermined shallow water spawning areas. Nature has deemed it that pike
will not spawn in the same place or at the same time each year and thank God
for that as this irregular behaviour ensures the species longevity. For the
pike angler this means a series of long hard slogs searching for these areas of
interest. On smaller waters you can count these seasonal areas on one hand, but
on large waters there could be a hundred. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">For the angler it should be noted that big pre-spawning pike
will move into and, out of shallow water during this period so finding the jack
shoals is the first sign you should be looking for.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Conclusion</b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguyzgffq5_vENdPZg5RAKxwbxPivxFlS3sQM7b_2p1QXzbhxxacO1CVeNLySgBsxFK1U4U6KkGtZwecbukq_m-RGte7luOLdBl5ALL9Xih70-ohvTCYpaRFll32c0qLw8BU2qbSbNr_kU/s2048/IMG_20170501_0004%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1367" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguyzgffq5_vENdPZg5RAKxwbxPivxFlS3sQM7b_2p1QXzbhxxacO1CVeNLySgBsxFK1U4U6KkGtZwecbukq_m-RGte7luOLdBl5ALL9Xih70-ohvTCYpaRFll32c0qLw8BU2qbSbNr_kU/s320/IMG_20170501_0004%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a></b></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">You can say this theory is nonsense, irrelevant or
exaggerated but the one thing you can`t say about it is that been made up from
thin air. As previously suggested, there is no place in the natural world for
coincidence and non-productive activity. Everything happens for a reason.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It may not be as relevant in smaller waters with different
shapes (drains, canals) or sizes (small Llkes) but it does work in the large loughs and lochs that I have fished. Living in Newport in South Wales leaves
little time (even over the years) to say that I am an expert in all these
waters as I am far from that, and I have always thought that I`m not the best
pike angler in the World, but I am probably the most observant. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Take from it what you please and I hope that if you have no
experience on larger waters you can gain an edge to at least give you a start
in catching pike on these magical waters that present the angler with the
ultimate test.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Regards,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Chris Donovan. </span><o:p></o:p></p>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-15510288410979623662020-12-17T07:20:00.000+00:002020-12-17T07:20:16.100+00:00Perched Out, Found Out<p> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghOBUxDepPnP2j_X3yqotyP-3E3TMkWgJ2rqlLBIhLErcfDlSffjNdVI99e5p7f5GAy-Vu6hbk_NcNgod464CMXYzkKSIgnlFXDr_nAwHFls1KKZkiim15kLlkvvr3DcHZwlBzU6O9pHA/s2048/PERCH_015%255B1%255D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1347" data-original-width="2048" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghOBUxDepPnP2j_X3yqotyP-3E3TMkWgJ2rqlLBIhLErcfDlSffjNdVI99e5p7f5GAy-Vu6hbk_NcNgod464CMXYzkKSIgnlFXDr_nAwHFls1KKZkiim15kLlkvvr3DcHZwlBzU6O9pHA/w400-h263/PERCH_015%255B1%255D.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>E<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">ver since
my early encounters with perch I have been fascinated by their behaviour and
sheer beauty.</span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Such wonderment is
heightened when it involves specimen perch and becomes seriously obsessive once
they’re over four pound.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I have been fortunate to catch various
forms of the species throughout the world, including Nile Perch beyond 100lb,
but the real perching is done back home. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The modus operandi has always been to
find my own perch and target them in a circumspect manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps it’s coming from the good old
secretive days of specimen hunting that I find it best to work alone, only
sharing captures with a few close friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Big perch, like other predators, simply cannot stand too much
pressure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor will you do yourself or
the fish any favours with publicity that exposes venues, especially in this age
of social media where news is disseminated wide and far instantly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In my lifetime I’ve witnessed two
perch diseases, the last in circa 1985 left many waters decimated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a long, long journey until the late 1990s
when signs of specimen perch started to show again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still have my old Ordnance Survey maps of
venues that I explored and one such water, Marden Thorn, finally gave me a nice
perch one Christmas Eve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was back in
business!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, no sooner had the festive
period finished when the county was beset with ‘foot and mouth’ disease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fishing waters were closed and by the time
the ban was lifted the controlling club had lost it to a private buyer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was devastated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately, all the groundwork assessing
venues meant I had others with potential.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And sometimes things happen for a reason as fate takes its toll.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Although this story was partly covered
in ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Biggest Fish of All’ </i>the full
events and aftermath have never been told.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To cut a long story short, working alone over the seasons, picking the
days and times to go, I discretely caught a number of fours culminating in
March 2004 with a 5lb 1oz perch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
historical context, it was 8oz behind the existing record, zoomed into The Top
50, and was the first five reported in years, apart from a 5lb 0oz and a 5lb
4oz that same year from the then ‘Perch Mecca’, the Great Ouse. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Those big
perch had been there for some time and no one knew.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Indeed, I nearly gave up on the lake until, at
the very last attempt after flogging its banks for a dozen days, a 2lb perch
followed a retrieving bait to my rod tip ring. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With dorsal fin erect, he basked in all his
glory for what seemed like an eternity, eyes changing between lobworm and me,
then suddenly he slowly turned, flicking his tail, before moving off at snail
pace in a display of utter contempt to the angler for insulting him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I was impressed by this performance
it gave me all the encouragement needed to return the next day, where I duly
caught his mother at 4lb 8oz. It was the start of a perch journey I shall never
forget. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That experience culminated in the five
which, for the record, measured 20” (from mouth to tail tip) x 15 ½” inches, and
was caught with another at 2lb 10oz 8drms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was the highlight of a memorable week that saw me go through the card
with perch in every pound division right up to five, including another brace of
4lb 0oz 8drms and 3lb 9oz 8drms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
initial cool when landing the fish was probably due to recognising it on the
unhooking mat as a big four from the previous season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naturally, I assumed it was a four - I fished
for fours, 5lb perch were just never considered!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the scales for the third time and only
when it confirmed the previous readings, which was actually a shade over the
1oz mark, did my knees go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcuZ1khzW4C98hyphenhyphencObhWmZd9_Wo4xTWzuWdHLc_VIcFV9uGwdd7_QKgVUTXzijWf_7JseMN_BCa-TQnDi4uFzuSqfCTPET0T28YwbvdnPiKirDs1B_NNgIK-WVxDlRkgxOrOzeBfhyZ2k/s2048/PERCH_002%255B1%255D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1345" data-original-width="2048" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcuZ1khzW4C98hyphenhyphencObhWmZd9_Wo4xTWzuWdHLc_VIcFV9uGwdd7_QKgVUTXzijWf_7JseMN_BCa-TQnDi4uFzuSqfCTPET0T28YwbvdnPiKirDs1B_NNgIK-WVxDlRkgxOrOzeBfhyZ2k/w400-h263/PERCH_002%255B1%255D.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /> </span><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Composure was soon restored when I
needed some pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A dog walker I
befriended would do the honours and I knew when he’d be around on my short
sessions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Except this day he didn’t show
so as dusk arrived I put my old 35mm camera on a bankstick and took 6 shots,
all were out of focus apart from one here which is slightly so and dull.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully I decided, in the age when you had
to wait for your prints back from the chemists, to call my wife, Alison.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In pitch black darkness the photo shoot was a
bit like the ‘Golden Shot’ (younger readers may need to ‘Google’ that once
popular TV programme) with me going “Up a bit, left a bit, down a
bit.....fire!”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It did give me peace of
mind and I could include the 2lb 10oz which also gave a reference of scale to
the size of the biggun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes the easiest
part is catching the fish!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0fdSZxHYE8F2HpdwK1ZmYJwp5zyw67AXyquCPkI2HpldUdMpXUgCISsnBp-1__xzVW1BgPdNlz4yHSvAu7zEpY3id7VseYiq-Z3PLalJopMhYQ6jKKvPoJL1_3l32h1LGh98fJeMarGo/s2048/PERCH_019%255B1%255D.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0fdSZxHYE8F2HpdwK1ZmYJwp5zyw67AXyquCPkI2HpldUdMpXUgCISsnBp-1__xzVW1BgPdNlz4yHSvAu7zEpY3id7VseYiq-Z3PLalJopMhYQ6jKKvPoJL1_3l32h1LGh98fJeMarGo/s320/PERCH_019%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We went home and got on with the
routines of everyday domestic life, the only time I gave it thought was for a
few seconds laying there in bed before falling asleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back then a 4lb perch was a rare beast and it
was only the following morning, when reflecting on that season and previous,
that it all began to sink in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
saying “No one is gonna believe this – it’s off the bloody radar!”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For sheer fun I went the following
Saturday knowing other members would be present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just sat down after returning a 3lb 6oz and
caught the end of the Grand National only to hear my horse from the work’s
sweepstake win the race!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Talk about when
your luck’s in!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the following day
life became really surreal when my team, Millwall, reached the FA Cup final for
the first time in their history!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
world had gone crazy!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I had done it ‘my way’ and no bugger
knew, but it left me ‘perched out’ for a number of years. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was also a negative aftermath which involved
a‘green-eyed’ man with whom I was once friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After one more session that year I returned home to be told by Alison
“You’re in trouble!”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the clubs where
I was a member telephoned to say I was using banned livebait on their water to
catch perch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well not only was I using
lobworms, which anyone who knows me will testify I always do back end of the season,
but the 5lb perch was caught from another club’s water!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The momentary grief was soon resolved but not
before I found out who reported me to the wrong club.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Spring arrived and I called in to the local
Larkfield complex to get in the mood for the start of my tench fishing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For many years you couldn’t help but bump
into Ted Bryan on one of the lakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ted
greeted me with “’ere, that bloke you know, he was here last week asking where
you had all your big perch from?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now
Ted is far from stupid and quickly sussed he was being spoken to for snippets
of information, especially the location.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ted didn’t know the venue, as I had not told anyone at the time, but took
an immediate dislike to what the person was trying to do, so then strung him along
something rotten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frankly, it was
hilarious as he had him possibly looking for the location in all different
directions! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span class="hascaption"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: red; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWG1TmljedE5_u8JwGHy_2us_pwMfk_PizS-rBrmq5pPClH9SajI2V030lNxx_21DNJYvWIfDbSfaVXzfEhrKlTj_VhWL-yK_rzxTKZKgEdArhqaPI_eCVOY5Tjm2_7N7cvCjlR3oX0Oc/s2048/PERCH_005%255B1%255D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1317" data-original-width="2048" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWG1TmljedE5_u8JwGHy_2us_pwMfk_PizS-rBrmq5pPClH9SajI2V030lNxx_21DNJYvWIfDbSfaVXzfEhrKlTj_VhWL-yK_rzxTKZKgEdArhqaPI_eCVOY5Tjm2_7N7cvCjlR3oX0Oc/w400-h258/PERCH_005%255B1%255D.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;">This chancer was the most blatant, but
he was not the only one, and it really did feel like “the hunter becoming the
hunted”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Late one Sunday afternoon this
scenario played on my mind until I suddenly had a burning instinct to visit the
fishery to see if there was anyone after my perch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I recall thinking, whilst driving along, how
irrational my behaviour was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,
upon arrival my suspicions were confirmed by the sight of his Volvo estate car.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My curiosity had to be further satisfied
so I made my way towards the water without trying to be noticed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly, I could see him on the far side
next to an obvious perch holding area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thankfully it was too obvious, even to the perch and not much came from
that spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, as I carefully
approached a favoured swim my heart sank when I saw a loose perch float snagged
in marginal rushes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My secret had been
found out!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was a relief in a way though
because it was getting awkward with friends, one of whom interrogated me the
entire journey from mid Kent to Buckinghamshire on a Great Ouse perch
trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The most bizarre was my old angling
mate John Lawrence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was convinced of
the correct venue but, in order not to lie, and in true politician style, I
would neither confirm nor deny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having
retired for some while, John always went back to the work Christmas dinner and
that year sat next to someone who, knowing he fished, told him about the big
perch he would photograph when walking his dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, you’ve guessed, it was my aforementioned canine cameraman!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What were the odds on that happening? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite John getting an accurate description
of me I still didn’t confess! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If the five I caught put the same
weight on as it had done from the previous season then it could be a record
contender.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can honestly say it’s the
only time I’ve targeted a repeat capture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I kept away until the following March but my attempts were half-hearted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never saw it and, with big fish being on
borrowed time, assumed it was dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
eventually told my Great Ouse companion who quickly filled his boots, winning
numerous angling weekly magazine awards, before finally being convinced of repeat
captures.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Imagine my surprise when yet a further
year down I heard my five had been caught at 4lb 13oz – I was delighted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Particularly so because it was caught by my
friend Jim Gibbinson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ironically, the
previous year I was at Jim’s home and we spoke of my perch but I never
volunteered venue nor, being the gentlemen, did he ask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have happily shared information if I
thought he was seriously interested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FZRZ5pjQiO0UdGY7rkW53aIogQ-BXbi_aQO45JiGuTagVXcRzqK_qOFnnht5v9J2D2-sBw8msXefP8L2uOKQLraMrFEQSH-TzYSFe5IndtKQ6P9xKBK_XLgc4hrT0Mv6mOlXG6uD9j4/s2048/PERCH_010%255B2%255D.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1355" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FZRZ5pjQiO0UdGY7rkW53aIogQ-BXbi_aQO45JiGuTagVXcRzqK_qOFnnht5v9J2D2-sBw8msXefP8L2uOKQLraMrFEQSH-TzYSFe5IndtKQ6P9xKBK_XLgc4hrT0Mv6mOlXG6uD9j4/s320/PERCH_010%255B2%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now Jim discovered the venue by
researching the club’s website and seeing a picture of a four in a
competition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it was weighed in a
match then the size had to be correct he thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that very same time, while sitting at my
desk in work, I also saw this picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact, it was the first publicity that named the place and I was horrified
to see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I actually phoned the club
official and asked him to take it down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
a lengthy conversation, he rightly stated that if a member submits a photo for
the website gallery then they have a right for it to be displayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although he was sympathetic to my view I asserted
my actions were not just selfish as I feared the perch would become pressurised.<o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ezQ3nW76YNrfwLAiT9cGbr5H4Tmnk09BL8UjUeAgS9xrQ19cQwU-lFm3kE91WOBtxczy-eZZRH6q4uyaa1u0QY6RYDEiQaaRuORjSXuAetEBwC_ZxXz7g3G6dYx_zAG_VCZtbrhpNW4/s2048/PERCH_001%255B2%255D.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1366" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ezQ3nW76YNrfwLAiT9cGbr5H4Tmnk09BL8UjUeAgS9xrQ19cQwU-lFm3kE91WOBtxczy-eZZRH6q4uyaa1u0QY6RYDEiQaaRuORjSXuAetEBwC_ZxXz7g3G6dYx_zAG_VCZtbrhpNW4/s320/PERCH_001%255B2%255D.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;">That kind of marked the end of my love
affair with the water and those big perch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The following year I had a reciprocal arrangement with Ian Welch who let
me guest the RMC stock lake which held big crucians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day before Ian’s arrival I went to the venue
to pre-bait only to discover two speci-looking type individuals that were clearly
after the perch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully, they were
not resident in the swims I was targeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just as I catapulted the last of the lobworm halves and 3mm betaine
pellets I met a passer-by who rented a house on the landowners’ estate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Evidently, he was an occasional angler but I
was most surprised when he spoke of my friend who, in his words, was “always in
the angling press”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Have you heard of
him?” he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Name sounds familiar” I
vaguely replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon leaving I
immediately phoned my friend who told me he had an arrangement with this
chap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently, every time a big perch
was caught he would ring him to come and take the pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well if this local told me of the perch
within minutes then who else had he told!?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If a few people already knew about the water then it had now been well
and truly found out! <o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I discovered the following day that
all was not lost when Ian Welch banked one of the fours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Better still, the following year on the very
same date, he bagged a brace of fours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
couldn’t have been more joyous as I walked to assist a very emotional Ian with
the biggest at 4lb 9oz in his landing net.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact I had to grab the pole has he was unknowingly lowering it (and
the fish) back into the water, such was his state of euphoria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was testament to the anglers and their
care that those big perch were still going strong but for me it would be my last
visit. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other venues needed to be
explored and my pike fishing had been neglected.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rarely, in angling, do you discover
such a rich goldmine of specimen fish and have it all to yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have had similar since with tench and you
struggle to keep the lid on others finding out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That period when you’re the only one is what I crave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not just a privilege but a true blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sod the accolades, awards, prize money or
tin-pots (such distractions have never really tempted me).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing can match that feeling of being first
to the angling equivalent of reaching the summit and the ecstasy you experience
alone, in total isolation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually,
you’re already on borrowed time and have to make the most.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When known, some may even doubt your success
but who cares?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yours is the kingdom and
glory, so just enjoy the ride. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBUGBSRi6ghiW_36N5ugUEeNUMmLMLFujcWMf2XXqzr3Fswqr7V1AMDLQOGi7QDJBKQmADlwbtwRxfdVnZkIjyXWZ-4w2HbL7cRX992jXiemZ5kSaxqsPXVBXe5yH98PU-vhK3bEVBAE/s2048/image_1%255B1%255D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBUGBSRi6ghiW_36N5ugUEeNUMmLMLFujcWMf2XXqzr3Fswqr7V1AMDLQOGi7QDJBKQmADlwbtwRxfdVnZkIjyXWZ-4w2HbL7cRX992jXiemZ5kSaxqsPXVBXe5yH98PU-vhK3bEVBAE/w400-h266/image_1%255B1%255D.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As expected, the venue became
extremely pressured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those big perch
have long since died but it still produces specimen sizes, although never a
four to my knowledge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frankly, for that
to happen, it could do with being neglected for a few years but judging from
reports and even photos on social media there’s little chance of that
happening.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hascaption"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within two years of my 5lb 1oz there was a
boom in big perch and there’s no denying the past decade has been the best time
for a leviathan.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Today’s young generation of specialist
anglers may find it<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>difficult to
comprehend the dark ages when a 2lb perch was hard to find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t take these peak weight productive times
for granted though has characteristically they have been rapidly followed by
decimation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enduring those entire bleak
years, hungry for decent perch, all the effort, anguish, miles and blind
alleys, was momentarily forgotten after that one capture.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt;">Mike Cutler</span></p>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-84265389671951625782020-10-27T09:42:00.000+00:002020-10-27T09:42:48.371+00:00Ambitions<div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSS9s53y4OLeSs76IfKQvB1xSOY7PG0HMpn13p92wbHO9UaHGJjTkgIjQHiZYHnNvzkWHO9I5WOkKldYXDqWWkiyjUJ2wt7CVRcgOI6_0WQZll-rIszOcf45WLk27GS4iF3rxifVj1GJ8/s1808/Llandegfed+29.14+just+to+prove+I%2560m+honest..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1808" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSS9s53y4OLeSs76IfKQvB1xSOY7PG0HMpn13p92wbHO9UaHGJjTkgIjQHiZYHnNvzkWHO9I5WOkKldYXDqWWkiyjUJ2wt7CVRcgOI6_0WQZll-rIszOcf45WLk27GS4iF3rxifVj1GJ8/s320/Llandegfed+29.14+just+to+prove+I%2560m+honest..jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />This article was written in the late eighties so bear this
in mind as I have tried to update it to put into the present tense.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">You will have to excuse me but I do get a little
philosophical at times and try and insert my experiences and observations from
life and try and relate them what I see happening to some individuals in our
pike fishing community. This article tries to explain why some pike anglers
enter our pastime with a bang, make a noticeable impact, and then disappear
without a by your leave.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I believe that individual and unrealistic ambitions are to
blame as I will try and explain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">At present I am watching “Gone With The Wind” on T.V. and I
am desperately trying to figure out what is going on. There are a group of
people who are living a life of luxury, they go to war, lose everything and
battle for years to get back to what they had in the first place. Maybe they
put too much importance on the wrong things.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">That`s easily done as even in pike fishing you have people
who set themselves unrealistic levels of achievement and when they find it
impossible to attain the ambition destroys them. They then pack in pike fishing
altogether and spend a lot of time and money setting unrealistic objectives in
other pursuits. They never change. It`s common place in life also, the ambition
takes away the enjoyment and then destroys the person.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The first visible sign of this in piking is the angler who
catches a big pike and then curses because it wasn`t a twenty. He replaces the
enjoyment he got from catching the pike in the first place with his
expectation. The end result I that his day`s fishing is a waste of time and
discouraged.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">An over achiever? No, he has by self-inducement turned a
good day into a poor day and this can`t be right. Life is too short to be
unhappy at not fully attaining your goals.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Maybe the people depicted in “Gone With The Wind should have
sat back and evaluated what is really important in life and acted accordingly.
It would have saved them a great deal of trouble.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I am not moralising but trying to explain why I think that
the objectives you set yourself<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>should be put into perspective with the rest
of your life. We have all met these people, fanatics who allow their ambitions
to take over their emotions to a point where the catching of pike no longer
enjoyable.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I usually evaluate what is important in my life whilst half
cut and in a semi daze. I find really important things in my life become
clearer. I spend a lot of time day dreaming as well, it`s been that way for a
while now. It`s usually about pike fishing and it intensified during the 80`s
when became aware of the battle to open Llandegfedd to coarse fishing and the
opportunity to legally pike fish it. For many years I lived a stones throw away
from its banks and watched it grow from a mediocre trout fishery into a premier
coarse fishing venue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I have been present when the then Welsh Water Authority
tried in vain to remove the coarse fish from the water by netting. I was very
aware of the battle to open Llandegfedd to the coarse fishing public and
watched from afar when it produced those fabulous pike which will go down in
pike fishing history. During the following Mach I had a days trout fishing
there and was amazed at the change in attitude of the local hardened trout
fishers saying that THEIR pike were the biggest in the country. From a Welsh
trout fisherman that is equal to puling down the Berlin Wall.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRf2VJFXdT1REi2h6y0EO380PEpAd7IvviVcgKQOl8DEIz9C8zd62EaKXhCs0hcWnrBP4EBXal3XX_e2W6bTq8Lr0vgm_8tDg9GCC9XWfm0OQNsT0Emip601N64gP59JYP6eujy83ZAa4/s1669/29.14+pounds+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1669" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRf2VJFXdT1REi2h6y0EO380PEpAd7IvviVcgKQOl8DEIz9C8zd62EaKXhCs0hcWnrBP4EBXal3XX_e2W6bTq8Lr0vgm_8tDg9GCC9XWfm0OQNsT0Emip601N64gP59JYP6eujy83ZAa4/s320/29.14+pounds+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I returned to Wales from Botswana eventually and Llandegfedd
was open to the public at large and did manage to catch my dream pike, but this
ambition didn`t eat away at me during my time away but took the form of a
desire to attain and not a quest to achieve and to me there is a difference.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">During this period and after getting married and proving I
was a breeder my view of how pike fishing fitted into the rest of my life
changed. It is still important to me but it isn`t the end of the world if I
blank. I never get bad tempered at a blank or even losing a fish, -
disappointed yes, but angry, never. My family and my work are now the center of
my life with pike fishing a pleasurable interlude. That is why the ambitions in
your life should be set at a reasonable level. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The setting of ambitions is a phenomenon in itself and they
are always made when you are least able to fulfil them. You envisage battling
through a tough, freezing cold Winter to catch monster pike whilst you are
Tench fishing in July. How many times have you decided to go on a diet after
devouring a huge meal? You foolishly make a New Years resolution to quit
smoking, eating and drinking when you are smoking, eating and drinking. Not the
best time to make promises to yourself which will drastically change your way
of life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I am at present lying in bed in a semi drunken state
planning out what I will do when I return home to Wales. The tackle I will use,
the waters I will fish, and the way I intend to fish for them, the big pike I
will tame, and as I day dream I setting objectives which at the time seem so
easy to make but not so easy the achieve. This kind of goal setting can be
self-destructive as ambitions are like that, they can stretch you to peaks you
you never thought possible, or they can drag you down so far that you never
achieve anything near your potential.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Take me as an example, at 18 stone I will never ride the
winner of the Grand National (unless the weight are drastically amended), or
climb Mount Everest. These feats are beyond my reach and I have accepted that,
but with fishing I can etch my name in pike fishing history. I can see it no,
arise Sir Chris Donovan, one day unknown and the next famous. After all who had
ever heard of Gareth Edwards before he caught the British Pike record? I rest
my case on that issue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">In my working life I have few ambitions but the one that
stands out above all the rest is my eternal quest to get through the day with
as little exertion as possible. I share this with many, but with fishing my
ambitions are clear, I want to catch a British Record Pike and I want to catch
a Tigerfish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I am unlikely to
catch a pike in Botswana (where I was living at the time) my second choice will
suffice. To catch a formidable Tigerfish.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">This ambition has laid dormant within me for many years so I
will try an explain how this quest started and how I attempted to fulfil it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">It was a bitterly cold November morning in 1981 and I was
fishing a local water with Peter Climo. He was in one of his happy go lucky
moods when a local lad came up to us and was about to ask what we had caught.
Pete blasted him<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">“We have caught frigging nothing, this water is frigging
useless, so why don`t you frig off” or words to that affect. I was astonished
as you don`t always find Pete in such a good mood. A short period later Pete
suddenly cried.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Look at this beggar, his teeth are on the outside of his
mouth”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">After the previous encounter I was afraid to look, but I
eventually turned around to see Pete reading the Angling Times. In it Chris
Dawn had written an article on Tigerfish fishing in Africa and the main
photograph was the cause of his excitement. I eventually got the paper of him
(the first time I had ever had to fight to read the Angling Times) and the
sight of this creature made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. It was
then I decided that if the opportunity ever became available to me I would
catch one of these beauties. Africa`s most feared fully aquatic predator.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I think I blanked that day but I will remember that article
which gave me what I now feel to be an attainable ambition. It is now October
1989 and I am in bed dozing (again) dreaming of catching a Tigerfish. As I
drift off into a deep sleep, I sub consciously re-enact how easy this was going
to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The Kalahari Desert is dry and dusty with no rains for seven
months. The wind and temperature are rising and everyone is waiting with baited
breath in hope that the rains will come. I have decide to make the 1100km
journey to fish the Tigerfish rich river Chobe which is situated in Norther
Botswans near the then village of Kasane. The conditions for both fishing and
driving should be ideal and I set off with great enthusiasm and expectation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The kilometre’s roll by as I pass village after village,
Kanye, Lobaste, Moropule and the larger town of Francistown before an overnight
stay at Nata Lodge. I didn`t stay in Francistown as at the time it only had two
hotels. One was called the Tati and the other The Grand – The Grand wasn`t and
the Tati was hence my decision. The one thing that does strike you about this
part of Africa is the distances between Towns and even landmarks. It is an
enormous Country and you really have to take your hat off for the explorers how
overcame the conditions to explore this then uncharted Continent.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I finally arrived in Kasane on the second day and was
greeted by the usual snorting hippo`s in the distance. This area was full of
wild life and the visitor wouldn`t be disappointed id wild life was their thing
– mine was fishing. This area is also witness to the enormous damage done to
the bush by marauding elephants along miles of destroyed bush along the banks
of the Chobe River.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Back to fishing. My set up for the forthcoming assault on
the local Tigerfish population was a small 8 foot spinning rod, a 30 pound wire
trace on 20 pound main line culminating with a 4 inch spoon with a single hook.
There is no point having multiple hooks as the Tigerfish`s mouth is 100% bone
and the one hook gives you a better chance of hooking up (so they tell me).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The favoured method for catching Tigerfish is to troll from
a small powered boat and at £10 an hour you had better catch quickly. I sett
off with a guide four kilometre’s down stream to the rapids where the Tigerfish
haunted the shallower water. Hour after hour we trolled the entrance to the
rapids to no avail and just as my was running out a mighty Tigerfish struck the
spoon. It dived and leapt out of the water on many occasions as I repeatedly
struck to keep the hook in place. Yes, the rod bent like it had never bent
before (I love that line). Yard by Yard this monster reluctantly neared the
boat (I had to be quick as it would have cost me another tenner). Yes, I
thought to myself, the culmination of nine years waiting was finally satisfied.
I was to catch my first Tigerfish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge9Xw9Jswr44rQpVYcbM9ktThcjdHv3FBQz9iZtKSiHoxVcP_sfbyut7BmeHsAKLDe_ubJk4uHvEuCDlP-DJxoNsjsGjyDLMQP0U3U3FzEcmFA24wn8NgvoXiLDK6RNGFAKtoWhSP1iQY/s2048/2+Tigerfish+biggest+14+pounds.+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: arial; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1570" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge9Xw9Jswr44rQpVYcbM9ktThcjdHv3FBQz9iZtKSiHoxVcP_sfbyut7BmeHsAKLDe_ubJk4uHvEuCDlP-DJxoNsjsGjyDLMQP0U3U3FzEcmFA24wn8NgvoXiLDK6RNGFAKtoWhSP1iQY/s320/2+Tigerfish+biggest+14+pounds.+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">This feeling of sheer joy wad suddenly shattered by a large
bang. Had the line snapped??? No, I had fallen out of bed and banged my head on
the floor. This had been a cruel, wicked dream with me as the victim. There was
no trip, there was no fish, but there was still a desire and hope that one day
I would be walking away from the river with my head held high and not as it
presently was, entangled in carpet fluff. My ambition had not destroyed me, or
my love of fishing, it had just entertained me and helped me through another
sleepy Botswana afternoon. One day I will catch my Tigerfish and when it comes
along, I will be ready. If not today then maybe tomorrow. I will enjoy catching
that fish for the fun of it and the companionship of my friends.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">So the next time you feel like packing it all in for
whatever reason, remember those famous words from Scarlet O`Hara, who after all
of her experiences and disappointments coined those immortal words <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Tomorrow is another
day”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">What she really meant is that if at first you don`t succeed,
lower your self-imposed standards. It doesn`t hurt that much. If you don`t just
relax and enjoy your sport then that is your fault and to coin another famous
line from “Gone With The Wind”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Frankly my dear, I don`t give a damn”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: arial;">I did eventually catch the first of many Tigerfish from the
Okavango River in Northern Botswana a few years later and I hope you enjoy the
photographs I have attached.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: arial;">Chris Donovan</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><br /></div>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-89319623689008481122020-09-30T08:47:00.001+01:002020-09-30T08:47:51.800+01:00In Pursuit of Pike with Lures<p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiMZQnx7_cv8BCZmETMw9L2tgMxEHqy0ctdOU9sOo_Tb4DqoJrpuz5Seck1m-Amz996-MhGfIwZWg_Wuc5M6w0TsFSu1WWc6hWjhEhnamz8dw4hKCYS7raZtPDEHc_IHY7HSvdZ17jIno/s2048/pic2%255B1%255D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1717" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiMZQnx7_cv8BCZmETMw9L2tgMxEHqy0ctdOU9sOo_Tb4DqoJrpuz5Seck1m-Amz996-MhGfIwZWg_Wuc5M6w0TsFSu1WWc6hWjhEhnamz8dw4hKCYS7raZtPDEHc_IHY7HSvdZ17jIno/s320/pic2%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /> <span style="font-family: arial;">An offering for our Pitster' pike lure anglers, it's aimed mainly at the folks who dabble or are thinking of </span><span style="font-family: arial;">dabbling. That having been said, the old dogs amongst us can appreciate the odd reminder that efforts can </span><span style="font-family: arial;">pay off. It's been rebaked' somewhat from an original mix printed elsewhere.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Some of us do it, some of us don't. Some of us use them pretty much exclusively, others not at all or only </span><span style="font-family: arial;">on very rare occasions. The gents' that don't, should consider adding “The Approach” to their skillset. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Paying lures considerably more attention than just lipservice' can on occasion result in </span><span style="font-family: arial;">good rewards for one's efforts and the attention you might apply to the detail of your approach when using </span><span style="font-family: arial;">them can on occasion truly make your day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The great majority of my piking season is confined to the October to mid March period, with only a rare </span><span style="font-family: arial;">foray or two outside of the that and only for specific circumstances, in a short “window” period. That's </span><span style="font-family: arial;">not to say you should confine yourself to the same, this is just what works for me these days. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So, you get yourself a lure outfit, you get a bagful of lures and you get yourself out there and throw them </span><span style="font-family: arial;">all over the place. Well, it might work, it might not. There's certainly a better chance to increase your</span><span style="font-family: arial;">prospects if you stop and just thin</span><span style="font-family: arial;">k about the “how and where” of what it is you are looking to achieve. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Allow me to offer two examples of what a bit of thought and a particular approach by yourself can get </span><span style="font-family: arial;">you, they are only examples and I'm sure if more folks thought about using a particular approach on a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">particular ve</span><span style="font-family: arial;">nue, after giving it some thought, they could well reap dividends on the day. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There was a venue which I was making an effort to familiarize myself with by walking it without any </span><span style="font-family: arial;">tackle other than a pair of glasses and a small pack. I did this for some time to try to get a feeling for the </span><span style="font-family: arial;">water and the different shore areas in differing wind direc</span><span style="font-family: arial;">tions and conditions. It was quite shallow in </span><span style="font-family: arial;">places with good water visibility. On some days the Glasses showed me surface activity by large fish, but </span><span style="font-family: arial;">they were out at range, well out at range in fact. In places it was just too dam shallow and it looked to be a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">case of “If they won't come to me I might have to go to them”. Careful investigation showed me that with </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the aid of a set of “chesties” and surfing boots I might just have a chance.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I wanted an outfit for distance work, that was the only way I was going to get a lure into the zone of </span><span style="font-family: arial;">activity that was spotted. During that time I imported a “Fox Terminator Elite Big Bait Spin”, in the 3 metre </span><span style="font-family: arial;">model and rated up to 168grams. It would prove ideal for the purpose, I believe this particular version might </span><span style="font-family: arial;">be out of production now? The rod was designed for fixed spool use, I paired it with a 5000 sized </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Shimano and began with 50lbs Power Pro (an old habit), soon changing to Suffix 832 and latterly </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Daiwa J Braid when it became available. Distance capability was all important in the circumstances and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the thinner the diameter, well, you know the rest.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So, out “in” the water and well away from the bank, how are we going to control anything of the large </span><span style="font-family: arial;">economy size and get it back to that mat safely? Looking for a net capable enough for that “twenty plus” </span><span style="font-family: arial;">fish, I fell over the Fox Rage Speedflow, the NLN001 model. It turned out to be a very suitable choice, it </span><span style="font-family: arial;">floated on the surface out-of-the-box so to speak. Now I know one or two other Gents have lost this </span><span style="font-family: arial;">model overboard and i</span><span style="font-family: arial;">t went down, I can only say that when parked carefully on the surface right next to </span><span style="font-family: arial;">me, it floated and without add</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ing anything to it!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We were getting there. What was needed now was a Lure that was going to call out to the local Preds' and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">both advertise not only it's arrival (big splash) but went on to indicate it's direction of travel as they might </span><span style="font-family: arial;">come in looking for the disturbance, it should continue to advertise it's presence</span><span style="font-family: arial;">first by sound and then as they might draw closer by sight as well. It was the Joe Bucher stable that was </span><span style="font-family: arial;">chosen, specifically the Joe Bucher Topraider, a surface lure with a good reputation already established.</span><span style="font-family: arial;">So, with “Sight and Sound” taken care of, there was the added tweak of “Colour” for a lure they would </span><span style="font-family: arial;">first hear, then hopefully follow what they were hearing to investigate and then see exactly what was </span><span style="font-family: arial;">making the splashing that lured them in to the follow. There's a choice here of course, I went for what is </span><span style="font-family: arial;">commonly known as a “Baby Duck” pattern and I asked Mark Houghton to put his interpretation into a</span><span style="font-family: arial;">couple of the said for me. In this case the lure has quite a lot of yellow in it. Other patterns might well </span><span style="font-family: arial;">have worked, this was my particular lead choice. The underbody treble was changed out for a finer wire, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the rear was left “as is”, no regrets there on occasions, as the underbody treble was the hook-up of choice </span><span style="font-family: arial;">for every fish that came in. I would add that you might consider changing the rear out for yourself, just for </span><span style="font-family: arial;">extra peace of mind perhaps.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It was certainly a new and different experience, standing chest deep and well away from the shoreline, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">getting as much distance as possible in order to get the “duck” into the zone of activity. It worked! On </span><span style="font-family: arial;">days when they were up for it I found fish around the mid teens were exploding upwards clean out of the</span><span style="font-family: arial;">water straight under the lure being retrieved, spectacular stuff. I got the distinct impression that the real </span><span style="font-family: arial;">targets, the twenty plusers', were apparently eyeballing the Raider' and it looked like they were following it </span><span style="font-family: arial;">further and further in, in stages, along the line of travel. There were some occasions when standing chest</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">deep and the lure crawling within 20ft of me, a large head would suddenly explode under it and you saw </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the whole head slashing from side to side at the lure as it hooked up. These large fish did not completely </span><span style="font-family: arial;">leave the water as some others did </span><span style="font-family: arial;">nearer the start of a retrieve, perhaps they decided that with around just </span><span style="font-family: arial;">four feet of water where they came into, tha</span><span style="font-family: arial;">t they didn't need to. A new experience, fighting green twenty pound plus </span><span style="font-family: arial;">fish, at the same level as yourself and on a short line! But the approach worked, right “In yer' face” stuff. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">The best I did for the trial, which saw three low twenties, went a decent 21lbs 12ozs, so box ticked etc, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">method proved. Put in the back pocket for future reference.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The main focus however is always the winter river season and as you do, attempting to achieve the best </span><span style="font-family: arial;">result you can on the day. I do enjoy the deadbaiting', but lures should never be considered a poor </span><span style="font-family: arial;">second, each approach indeed can certainly have it's place and time on the day. I wanted to find a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">particular lure and approach that would in theory at least, offer far better potential than just the ol' “chuck </span><span style="font-family: arial;">it and chance it brigade”. I wanted a large rubber swimbait', one that would give me bags of movement </span><span style="font-family: arial;">per unit of distance being travelled, one that could be retrieved “low and slow” and still give plenty of </span><span style="font-family: arial;">action. It would be used solely “low and slow”, over and along a fairly clean bottom the lure being left to </span><span style="font-family: arial;">touch down on every cast before retrieved right along the bottom and indeed on the odd retrieve </span><span style="font-family: arial;">deliberately used to “bottom bump” on the way in. Mostly however if you felt it bump for a split second </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the tip was swiftly lifted slightly and only just enough to keep it running as slowly as possible</span><span style="font-family: arial;">.</span></p><p><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1765" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHcW8zbVpDikemXaiIBbUN4Y0bNwMof0Tk3KrzybJ0DUY0yfkdlsI07CieWmWyjRuUypIvoxf9XCHHcDXtGQvprmmlmVcBqCpIM0-yJzpBylvAr1BnpblLnt85pFDuE3YS0zQRMQbg4VA/s320/workfile%255B1%255D.jpg" /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Importantly I was looking for something to generate really good movement for distance combined with a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">slow retrieve, so staying “in the zone” for as long as possible.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After some consideration I found what I was looking for by returning to Joe Buchers' stable. I settled for </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the large 10” version of the now long discontinued (and as rare as rocking horse poo), Bucher's Fluttertail.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Depending how you work it, it can be up to 14” in len</span><span style="font-family: arial;">gth out there. However, even with the slow retrieve </span><span style="font-family: arial;">it has a really good action on the twin tails, specifically so! But it most certainly had quality issues and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">required some high maintenance to keep each lure in the best shape for as long a life as possible. Soft as </span><span style="font-family: arial;">butter was the original compound used in this lure. You needed to use the hot knife to drag them back to </span><span style="font-family: arial;">life from most good mauling's, however the big river queens didn't seem to mind too much, the action was </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the thing. Far too many of these lures were also cursed by the fault where the internal harness could split </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the lure body vertically on one side directly on the rear vertical harness itself. I also changed out the split </span><span style="font-family: arial;">rings for 50lbs rated and the trebles were swapped for finer wire. Leader went up to 100lbs Titanium and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">braid to the old workhorse of 100lbs Power Pro. Justified after big river spates, when you might find </span><span style="font-family: arial;">yourself some very large branches out in a swim. The rod stayed the same, so did the reel, only a spool of </span><span style="font-family: arial;">line was changed, easy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The lure and the approach worked, it worked well, very well. There's always a “but” though is there not.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Out of production for around a decade now and “rare” don't cover it, don't forget the original production </span><span style="font-family: arial;">quality ran along the lines of “Could do Better”. Mend-it repair glue simply could not cope with that rear </span><span style="font-family: arial;">splitting, neither could the hot knife, over generous use of “Aquasure” on the split ensured it could get a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">few more fish for you. It wasn't pretty, but the big girls still liked it. We are looking at a rare to zero </span><span style="font-family: arial;">availability these days. However, for a short period back there all was not lost, as an enterprising Yank </span><span style="font-family: arial;">bought the Licence to manufacture Joe's Fluttertail' in another reincarnation. A complete overhaul was </span><span style="font-family: arial;">undertaken. A different and more durable compound was used for the body, total lure weight was tweaked </span><span style="font-family: arial;">upwards from around four ounces to about five, the internal harness was re-done and a range of new </span><span style="font-family: arial;">patterns were produced and Lo' the Fluttertail then morphed into the “Call Girl”, courtesy of an </span><span style="font-family: arial;">enterprising gent under the umbrella of “Guide Dog Tackle.” Unfortunately this appears to have been a r</span><span style="font-family: arial;">elatively short venture apparentl</span><span style="font-family: arial;">y, as I believe the new range lasted for about two years only, before they </span><span style="font-family: arial;">too vanished and became as rare as the originals.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Along my regular stretches the Pike liked them, specifically, the larger fish liked them. Exactly the </span><span style="font-family: arial;">intention! They liked the original Fluttertails' and it appeared they saw no difference when the “Call </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Girls” were sent out searching for customers, that twin tail wiggle drew them in. It was good to see the </span><span style="font-family: arial;">twin tails working well right up to the rod tip and on that slow retrieve. The trial using that specific </span><span style="font-family: arial;">approach started off with a few fish hovering around the 18 and 19lbs mark, a promising beginning and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">one that showed the lure and approach did indeed appear to be working. Another visit and a few fish in </span><span style="font-family: arial;">the low t</span><span style="font-family: arial;">wenties put in an appearance. The next “Lures” visit was in an early January, in very cold and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">calm conditions. It was an intended short session only, the first visit in the new year with this lure and this </span><span style="font-family: arial;">approach only. So............</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Within no more than the first half dozen casts there was a solid “thump”, the rod hooped over and the lure </span><span style="font-family: arial;">simply stopped dead-in-the-water, for a second I thought “I have got hung-up on something”. I put a real</span><span style="font-family: arial;">bend into the blank. It was then that the tip moved just a little and I realised something large had turned </span><span style="font-family: arial;">stubborn on me. Solid pressure moved her and she really woke up. Eventually I was quite stunned to see </span><span style="font-family: arial;">her in excellent condition and weighing in at 27lbs 3ozs. Very nice indeed and it don't get better than that </span><span style="font-family: arial;">I was thinking, but it did and this was a very short session remember. After getting her back safely I </span><span style="font-family: arial;">switched off to relax with a mug of tea for a while, things had started well. I went back to it and moved </span><span style="font-family: arial;">upriver just slightly, about fifty yards, probably less. Same modus operandi, out goes the chosen lure.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Suddenly, just three casts later there's a distinct feeling of deja vu, I've been hit hard again by a right </span><span style="font-family: arial;">heavy lump, now when I first get a look at her the first thing to mind is that “stone me, I have the same </span><span style="font-family: arial;">fish again!” She was the twin of the first, well, a twin she indeed was but not the same fish! Another true r</span><span style="font-family: arial;">iver queen in great condition and going 27lbs 9ozs. Exact same lure, exact same method, same close </span><span style="font-family: arial;">area, two pristine big girls for 54lbs 12oz. I could have stayed, but after that Al went home, why spoil it, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">something to remember.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Would Al' have caught in either of the above</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> planned approach</span><span style="font-family: arial;">es if a different lure had been used, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">perhaps, or perhaps not. The thing is the approach and lure to be used worked and well, in both examples </span><span style="font-family: arial;">given. The above are just offered as something of what is still possible if you can find the right approach </span><span style="font-family: arial;">and at the right time, a thing we all strive to achieve. The new winter season is knocking on our door, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">let's remind ourselves to use the day properly, don't lessen your chances on the Lures. Remember that day </span><span style="font-family: arial;">you set up well back from the bank, approached quietly and dropped the first deadbait carefully into the </span><span style="font-family: arial;">margin, whilst the second rod went further out, remember that twenty plus coming on the margin rod? So </span><span style="font-family: arial;">search the close areas and the margins first, both up and down stream on your bank, on the day you could </span><span style="font-family: arial;">well pick up a good fish doing exactly that, do it before you search more distant areas of your swim. Do </span><span style="font-family: arial;">not skyline.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There's a couple of pictures' embedded. Houghton's version of the “Baby Duck” (Nice one Mark) and a sister </span><span style="font-family: arial;">in a Perch pattern. Also take a long hard look at both the unused examples of Bucher's Fluttertail and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Guide Dog's Call Girl. They are the same lure, but they have significant differences. Both will work well, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">at least they did so for me in the circumstances described. However the Fluttertail quite obviously </span><span style="font-family: arial;">suffered from quality control being off on Holiday for their production runs. Take a hard look at that </span><span style="font-family: arial;">vertical area around the rear hook harness. That unused original is a prime candidate for splitting, you can </span><span style="font-family: arial;">actually see it there, it would probably go during the first use. Some are okay, some are not. You have to </span><span style="font-family: arial;">wonder that just perhaps this may have been the reason for it's production ending. The revamped and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">renamed “Guide Dog” below it will last a whole lot longer.</span></p><p><img border="0" data-original-height="1560" data-original-width="2080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPDWg-PjVO164Tg9b0CEbKXadBBo1gehUJpg-WYdfKnRmqYtdcd0BA4YRlYsCLyWHvre6scmFOmcQ0RPbsQk3TglYwnAMjacrZFapIJoOpAgsYE5zWZfzYYJi8YowlN3tsEJGgMUgEzc/s320/P1000609%255B1%255D.JPG" width="320" /><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGN5Fh7Cce9w94iwXV8KkW0qEBfh63nxN89DLpHMYUq9Njgv_2rGp4CkRRQFGcQhAfdhXaxYOMpace9ZY2J-43TZRe-F9YqOJ6DGHBhI1NCUoGSjzQrT5CuxK9gXBdZOPMDt9LrmCGq0Q/s320/work1%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The esox' pictured are both of the twins I encountered on the short river session described above, a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">cracking short trip, one not forgotten and would you believe that was not the last unexpected </span><span style="font-family: arial;">acquaintance I was to have with the larger of the twins, she was even heavier on the last day of the season </span><span style="font-family: arial;">in a slightly different area, on a different method. But that as they say, that is another story.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Good luck to all for the coming winter season and tight lines to everyone.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Alan Behenna</span></p>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-51238798410019231972020-09-18T07:43:00.004+01:002020-09-18T07:43:47.687+01:00Pandemic Chubster<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96ywK-JN9PT2WX1HXXuO9E77WSVr2750fkSmfBpUwPIQnvVqxUffQGCwi5sNTx1J3yJhnGXsTt-tiLsxeFhmMfSDfpcuFM4X2WxZNeApQPWn5gyE1ARCDzKll6b_a8fVzmiE6cFlbAfg/s640/image0%255B1%255D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96ywK-JN9PT2WX1HXXuO9E77WSVr2750fkSmfBpUwPIQnvVqxUffQGCwi5sNTx1J3yJhnGXsTt-tiLsxeFhmMfSDfpcuFM4X2WxZNeApQPWn5gyE1ARCDzKll6b_a8fVzmiE6cFlbAfg/s320/image0%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><span> </span>Don’t worry, this
isn’t a story about the large flabby appendage I have amassed on my frontage
during lockdown, although I suppose that could be classed as a personnal best (PB) in some respects!</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p> </o:p>So luckily, the Covid outbreak did not affect my pike fishing reall</span><span style="font-family: arial;">y,
as I managed to squeeze in my final session literally two days before lockdown,
and it provided three welcome fish of mid to upper do</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ubles.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">A nice way to sign
off the season.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> <img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="640" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsL2tnW2XlH3XLDLzpeZJl4APqVXzE3fcaRhni8PEkb7pLlPmyfxUN2vxVFS0bGY_7Mski2C5kkEZ4OOlCVi1Re2OcXQb2hkanExmKPbOcgxAfOZCPsYBuPSCo3wAdwLeYSSfG_2Ea5C8/w200-h179/image3.jpeg" width="200" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8zMQecW34-Qq9-iasd5LHSFmvykeDGNmn8xncj_45DKe2L6w9fbdfKJ_Brul9XjP3CDEPvEWVyN4uoCj1nH15oZaLy2gzKqPBJuO9PbKfWrJ5MwU761mhLBLpZOvfofML4hmQ6M8y3hs/s1045/image2.jpeg" style="font-family: arial; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="939" data-original-width="1045" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8zMQecW34-Qq9-iasd5LHSFmvykeDGNmn8xncj_45DKe2L6w9fbdfKJ_Brul9XjP3CDEPvEWVyN4uoCj1nH15oZaLy2gzKqPBJuO9PbKfWrJ5MwU761mhLBLpZOvfofML4hmQ6M8y3hs/w200-h180/image2.jpeg" width="200" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I was required to
work throughout the outbreak. A prospect I initially had reservations about,
but eventually realised I was appreciating the normality and routine it was
providing. I spent the rest of the time on “House Arrest” clocking up the
brownie points, helping out with the home schooling and spending time with the
wife and kids on daily walks and bike rides. All the time though, in the back of
my mind was if and when we were going to be allowed out fishing again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I enjoy lure
fishing for bass in the spring and summe</span><span style="font-family: arial;">r </span><span style="font-family: arial;">months but with weather, wind
direction and tides being such a big factor in whether it’s even worth leaving
the house, I was in need of a back-up plan, which in the few years previous had
been half-heartedly chucking lures about my local river for perch and chub.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d had some
success, but I wasn’t using the</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> best set up </span><span style="font-family: arial;">and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">to be honest, I wasn’t taking
it too seriously, so this year I vowed to c</span><span style="font-family: arial;">hange that, especially where the
chub were concerned, and I used the time in lock</span><span style="font-family: arial;">down to prepare.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now, being a
Northerner, parting with cash is not my favourite pastime, so I was on the hunt
for a decent light lure set up that wouldn’t break the bank, and wasn’t utter
horse sh**e.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The rod I found
was a HTO Hooligan 5-25g rod. Now I knew nothing about this rod but
research showed a few positive reviews and I use a HTO rod for my bass
fishing which is an awesome rod, so I took a chance and clicked.<o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: arial;">The reel was easy as I had already decided on a Di</span><span style="font-family: arial;">awa Ninja 2500. I know a few people who use and recommend these reels and it was within my budget with a spare spool to boot which was a bonus.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The rod arrived and I
was pleasantly surprised. It had a nice fast action and felt good in hand, one
issue is that the butt eye was ever so slightly out of line but what do you
expect for a £50 mass produced rod from china. I was sure it would have no
impact on the function of the rod at all but it was a bit annoying. Luckily
I’ve got a mate who is a very experience rod builder and he promised to rectify
it if it ever got too much to bear.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d already
amassed a collection of little jelly shads, grubs and critter baits from the
previous years and had a few little crank baits but felt I needed a few more of
these as I knew they were going to be more likely to attract chub, so I
purchased</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> a little set of cheap cranks from flea bay.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now this will probably have some of you
reeling in disgust, but I refuse to spend decent money on little bits of
plastic that are destined to end u</span><span style="font-family: arial;">p as decorations in the surrounding foliage,
and as previously mentioned, I’m Northern.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Anyway, for just
over £100, I had </span><span style="font-family: arial;">a half reasonable set up that I could “get a bit more serious”
with. Knowing that my local river was not known for its specimen chub, a 5lb
fish on a lure was a challenge but not an impossibility so the targ</span><span style="font-family: arial;">et was set and
I eagerly waited in hope of the rules relaxing, before the June 16</span><sup style="font-family: arial;">th</sup><span style="font-family: arial;">.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">And they were, so
I got out for a few bass sessions seen as my club waters were still closed so
they could adjust swims in adherence to the guidelines, but I was keen for the
river season to arrive so I could try out my new set up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The day arrived
and I was out with my new rod and reel, which normally means a blank, but,
I was like a kid on Christmas, and even better the weather was glorious. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d had a certain backwater in mind as I knew
there were chub there from the previous excursions, and it was a good walk away
from the nearest access, so I assumed it’d get me away from the crowds. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">How wrong could I be!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The place was
RAMMO!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Boats, canoes, paddleboards,
sw</span><span style="font-family: arial;">imme</span><span style="font-family: arial;">rs, picnickers, ev</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ery man and his dog, literally!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I couldn’t believe
it, I’d hardly seen another soul in this area when I’d fished it the previous
year but it was party central now!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">It wasn’t the
numbers of people there that annoyed me really though, they had just as much right
to be there as I did, but there was total lack of respect and disregard for
this beautiful place. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Now I normally
encounter litter on my river when I go there, and pick up bits at times, especially
if its fishing rubbish giving the rest of u</span><span style="font-family: arial;">s a bad name, but this was another
level. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Whole boxes of
empty Stella cans lying about, takeaway cartons, burst lilos, carrier bags full
of rubbish tied up and thrown in hedgerows. It was utterly depressing.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I had a few chucks
but couldn’t hand</span><span style="font-family: arial;">le it and went home.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I encountered
scenes like this on two other occasions after that, includ</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ing one where id
managed to find a little bit of solitude casting from a ledge into a weir pool.
I’d just missed a take on a surface frog and wasn’t sure if it was a chub or a
jack, when out of the corner of my eye I seen a bloke slide down the weir,
splash into the pool, swim over to me and ask “caught anything mate?”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">“NO I HAVENT YOU
CUCKING FUNT AND IM NOT GOING TO NOW AM I!?!” </span><span style="font-family: arial;">is what I
thought of saying, but a simple “Nah mate” is what came out as I packed up and
headed for home. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">After that, I
decided to avoid the river for a while until the weather turned a bit or until
I could get there at more unsociable hours.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Fast forward a
couple of weeks and a few blank beach sessions and I’d put my stuff in the car
and decided to drop on to the river after my night shift. I chose a spot I had found
the previous year but the real reason I was going here was because it was
closest to home so wouldn’t be too much of a struggle for my tired little eyes
on the way home to bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I got there just
as it was getting light enough to see and jumped out of the car into the
surprising cold morning air. I got set up and decide to have a few chucks on a
brand new fishing platform that had been put there curtesy of the Envir</span><span style="font-family: arial;">onment Agency and Angling Trust. I
was flicking a little limtreuse spikey shad about when I had a take from a good
perch of around a 1lb 8oz, maybe even two, but after five seconds of being on and a
shake of its head it was gone. I’d seen the whole thing clear as day through the
water, even in the dim light, and it was then I realised just how cr</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ystal clear
the water was. This was going to require some stealth!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">When the light got
up a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">bit more, I headed to my chosen backwater pushing through the 6ft high
nettles. I got to a spot of fast narrow water where a crouching underarm flick
of about 5 yards in either direction was all that was achievable, and all that was
required, first cast downstream and
after maybe two turns of the handle, Whollop, the lure was smashed by a chub of barely
a pound.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Netted, snapped
and released, I turned round and n</span><span style="font-family: arial;">oticed a dark shape upstream of where I was.
Another little flick in that direction and it was hammered again by a jack of
about 4lb. luckily the hooks fell out in the net so it was released pronto.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Two for two! Both fish
taken on the Shakespeare mini S, roach pattern.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">After another
couple of flicks up and down with no interest, I figured the commotion of two fish meant a move was in order so headed to another spot close by where I’d </span><span style="font-family: arial;">seen the grass had been trampled down so assumed it had been flattened by a
previous angler. Access was from higher ground so I was pretty much on my belt
buckle crawling through the grass and stingy’s to get to the bank. I could see
a few fish of about 2-3lb milling about in a small pool so I flicked the mini S
on their heads but they spooked and scarpered.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I moved up the
bank about 5 y</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ards where it was just manageable to cast into a pool where the
stream enters and eddies round before rushing past again where I’d just moved
up from. I tried a couple of little flicks close by which produced no interest
so started flicking further into the pool. Line of sight to the lure was obstructed
by the bankside vegetation so it took me a second to realise what had happened
when on one retrieve the lure was stopped in its tracks, thinking I’d snagged,
then the clutch gave way. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">FISH ON!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I bullied the fish so it couldn't</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> run me into a snag as it looked to be a decent sized
chub. A few spirited runs taking a bit of line ensued before it allowed itself
to be netted.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbt_pT8T5Zude1D43O2p4lIRS-P3Z2u0b0GpKVjcr7VeiNryA57ejWVa58YVBl9g9PC-8xgA4hyWie3-NZUCSkCaut6fwTu-tnHlCtciRu49qhnvsd0KTI6FJS7a9sHx8TRjrgUTBqAM/s320/image1+%25282%2529.jpeg" style="font-family: arial; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4lb 8oz <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d matched my PB,
on purpose, i.e. I was actually fishing for chub. Not like my previous best
fish which had fallen to a real eel a couple years previous whilst
after a toothier quarry.</span><span style="font-family: arial;">Happy days, this
was turning out to be a great little session, two fish in the first two casts and
now a matche</span><span style="font-family: arial;">d PB and all on mini S, roach pattern. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Another flick into
the same pool produced a pike o</span><span style="font-family: arial;">f around 6-7lb, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">obviously
attracted by the earlier commotion. Netted, unhooked, snapped and released it
was time to head home, and due to the excitement there was no “noddy dogging”*
during the journey.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> *<i>this
is not referring to some sort of sordid activity involving newbie anglers and
sexual encounters in public places before all you dirty minded bar stewards
comment.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">A few days later I
got back out for a few hours having decided to revisit the same area but push
further through the undergrowth to try and find a few more likely spots. A
gazillion nettles </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"> I<span style="font-family: arial;">’d found a
couple of spots and managed a few micro chub but hadn’t seen anything of any
stamp. I then happened across a deep pool that was screaming chub. Access to
the pool was at 6’o’clock, with the stream entering fast at 11’o’clock, eddying
around and exiting at 2’o’clock.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="639" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSHnFzXY_EMv4KuSXgY_lQ8QxsRQlqzLxxMbYWpZyL8fMm4gvQvZNcHXhuGdx4W9HWFIjIL9fTneAzcDLbCjhT_4uTMnRAr07gE0oRN6Dhsj5z5dYUyD9c4MX1o4DNEvsaiuCI5JbKmk/w320-h240/image10%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="320" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I'd lock with a big overhanging tree directly opposite
at 12’o’clock with a big submerged fallen tree snag at the front of it. It was
not an unfished mark as I could see the imprint of a bucket seat in the mud so
I took it as a good sign that it must be worth a try.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> I cast in all the likely spots but had no
interest and saw no signs, but then an absolute pearl of a cast, right under
the overhanging tree branches saw a dark shape take a bit of interest
but then a flash of bronze as it decided against it. At least I now knew there
was a good fish to be had there. I carried on for a little while longer but
couldn’t tempt a take so decided to head back and have quick stop at one of the
other spots before heading home. A stealthy crawl to the bank where I’d spooked
the fish with the plop of mini S on the previous session and I could see them
again. This time I decided a tiny little crank of about 2cm and as many grams
may be less disturbing and may tempt a take. I checked my trace as even the
slightest kink destroys the action of these lures as they’re so light. No
kinks, I was good to go. There were 3 fish and I flicked the little crank to
the tail of the middle fish. It turned to the sound of the plop, looked at the
lure, and as soon as I gave it a twitch, Whollop, it smashed it. Sight fishing
at its best, proper exciting stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">A short fight and
it was netted, snappe</span><span style="font-family: arial;">d and </span><span style="font-family: arial;">weighed at 2lb 12oz, not massive but even these small
chub hit lures so aggressively. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Happy days, no
blank.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> Another couple of
days later and the gear was back in the car with the plan of dropping in on the
river, bleary eyed after another night shift.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I couldn’t stop
thinking about the deep pool where I’d seen the interest from under the
overhanging tree and the plan was to make my way straight there and try to
tempt the fish properly this time. I got there as it was getting light and didn’t notice any fresh
bucket or boot marks so it seemed no one else had been there since I last had. I
proceeded to cast to all the likely spots, stream entrance, under the
overhanging branches and then up into the stream exit, but I c</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ouldn’t buy any
interest.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I don’t know about
anybody else, but I’ve found with lure fishing for chub, disturbance is the enemy,
so I try not to make too many casts, so every hour in a swim I may only be
actively fishing for 20-30 minutes. I know that sounds counterproductive as the
lure needs to be in the water to catch the fish but I’ll make a cast to each
likely spot then ill rest on my haunches for a few minutes, rest the swim and
just watch. Especially if I’ve made a bit of a fluff cast and created some
disturbance getting my lure back, I’ll just wait and watch for 5 minutes or so
and let everything calm down in the h</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ope I haven’t scared every living creature
a million miles away. I apply this to my pike fish</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ing sometimes too but not as
much as I’ve found the need to while chub fishing.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> Anyway, I digress,
I fished the pool for maybe an hour with no signs of life whatsoever so decided
to go exploring again and push further on, but after climbing over a barbed
wire fence and slipping down a steep muddy bank I decided I was a bit too long
in the tooth to be getting leggers off any angry game keepers so turned back
and headed to more familiar ground. I decide to stop off and have a go at one
of the swims fished previously again, so headed to the fast flowing section
where I’d had the small chub and the 4lb jack. After crawling down the bank and
a having a few downstream flicks, I was rewarded with a fish of 3lb 5oz in my
net after causing a right commotion in the shallow water during the fight and
soaking me.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufVyxcudGuxmyOCm0cXSY63AWwyuB5DMLAE3TcDxOiO1epglcEyBuj3IOZUOH-gyzsIe7Wklup70NiHNWEx-NmYfmP-bEqnx7eHYOymOqhyC9B-USbXLFQKKNvwE91PVXShP94nE2J-A/s320/image4+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blank saver<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">During the next
day or tw</span><span style="font-family: arial;">o I was musing about what had been working, lure wise, and I noticed I’d
only caught on light coloured cranks, silvers and roach style patterns, so I
commandeered my missus UV nail varnish cooker thingy majig and got to painting
a couple of my darker lures. I painted a spare perch pattern mini S as a white
red head, and one of the cheap eBay cranks with a white belly, glitter grey
sides and a darker grey top. I had to get out to try them so back to the same
spot and straight to the deep pool.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The freshly
painted Gary Glitter crank was up first but the initial casts to the likely spots
produced nothing again. Casting to the stream exit was difficult as there was a
high overhanging tree I kept just catching the edge of and having to yank out my
line out of. Then another pearl of a cast saw the lure fly past
and keep my line clear of the branches, it flew right up close the reed on the
far side of the exiting stream and landed with an inviting plop.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Three or four turns of
the reel handle and an absolutely savage, lightning fast take had me thinking I
had a pike on. It was staying deep, taking line and darting for snags. I kept
pressure on and bullied it out of the snaggy areas until it came closer and
seen it was a real chunk of a chub. I was convinced this was a new PB so </span><span style="font-family: arial;">was a
little surprised when it only tipped the scales at 4lb 7oz. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh well, still a good fish from my river, and
gave</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> a fight like a fish possessed. Was this the fish I’d seen take interest
previously? Probably, although the pool is definitely big enough to hold a few
decent fish so it will be re visited. I had another few casts but decided that
the commotion had probably spooked anything else into hiding so moved back in
the direction of the car.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I stopped at the
trampled grass swim for a few last casts before heading back and managed to
find another spot where it was possible to cast across the upper pool and still
maintain a view of the lure. It left you a bit more exposed and spottable, but
keeping a low profile I flicked Gary Glitter as close to the far bank features
as I could. Fan casting from left to right, I got to the point where the pool
narrows and the water speeds up to exit as a stream again. I cast to the far
edge of this where there was a small island of flotsam caught on an exposed
tree root. The lure plopped down</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> just in front of this and I can’t even
remember turning the handle before I saw the dark shape dart out from under its
cover and mug the lure off the surface. It felt like another decent fish and
after a great little battle it was netted and weighed at 4lb 4oz.</span></p><span> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="403" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8XK5iHEjnt4wwwOX-bBGZPM4igF9M1T4xsX1DwaDNwBqHEvl3_F1-VNkSUPmGhQNgN-DYm4CW829y0KIZYuysTiGVCY6BHENIUOLNV_MwD-XYRy47INimY-Of66hoIN-3bGsEMXQ5Y5U/w200-h156/image6+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="200" /> <span> </span> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="640" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4t-ryWwrQKGBAyBmD8noBxfXQwfeiqLxfS3BiOwMLNCkODE3-1QpPCdGZQZN4V-UR23nU84Kcy3i9qDxn_ckE9uOfJPdn3oXDB-r48AR-D55DotGIdE_9Wn_iPzGwP1lMEwpUHBP-vbY/w200-h163/image7.jpeg" width="200" /><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">My luck was
definitely in.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">After this session
I felt I’d pretty much exhausted the fishable spots and didn’t want to pressure
the area too much in the fear of ruining it for future fishing, so with another
backwater already in mind was planning my next trip out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’d fished the
next area the previous year also but hadn’t actually managed a chub out of
there, although I’d had countless missed takes on surface frogs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">A few days later
and a few hours to kill, I’m on my way. It’s a fair walk away which I quite
like as it normally stops the likely hood of anyone else being there. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I got to the first
spot and was casting across the weir pool. I could see a snag pretty much right
in front of me, a big tree branch that’d obviously been dragged down during the
previous floods. I was casting either side of this and trying to get my lure to
swim as close to it as possible without snagging. Gary glitter was back on and just swimming past the snag when
all hell broke loose on the surface!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">A big Chub leapt
clear of the water b</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ut missed the lure, damn.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I had a few more
casts but couldn’t tempt another take so I decided to move to another swim for
half hour or so then come back. During this time the heavens opened and I was
soaked to the bone, not just from the rain but from the s</span><span style="font-family: arial;">oaking wet waist high
grass and nettles I was pushing through also. The other swim produced nothing but
a couple of micro chub with eyes bigger than their bellies so I returned to the
weir pool again.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I ran Gary past
the snag a couple of times again but nothing stirre</span><span style="font-family: arial;">d. I had a change and
thought maybe the Mini S would have more of a chance due to it diving slightly
deeper, it may give the fish a bit more confidence to strike if it had spooked
itself with the previous attempt.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Low and behold,
second cast on the downstream side on the snag, I’d thought I’d caught on a
protruding branch I’d not seen until a head shake and the clutch giving line
told me different.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">This fish ran me
ragged, trying to dart back into its snaggy home, and then 20 yards across the
pool to a load of overhanging trees and more snags. It was an awkward fight due
to the location I was fishing from and I was convinced he was going to get me
snagged or snap me off, but after a load more to’ing and fro’ing, he tired and
allowed himself to be netted.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFB1s_Gkk39JWlg0ndnx0a2N8f12KSZLWjRmE9aPovApwlXFoeO5I5u3MkFNZhP5HL1joJ7cG9o-BImpy8xom4GzRAEaMbopybRqFA7s46GibrjfVKav1xuWMk7BHN8dAKE-TVPZwA_g/s320/image8.jpeg" style="font-family: arial;" width="320" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">A chunky Chub of
4lb 12oz which is a</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> new PB, by only
4oz, but a new PB is a new PB.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Again I was a
little disappointed as I was convinced this fish was over 5lb, so I’m obviously
terrible at guessing fish weights.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I tried a few more
spots in this area but they were quite difficult casting, and there were a few
which were impossible, even for a little underarm flick and landing a fish
would’ve been another impossibility, so I gave up and headed home happy with my
new PB and with a plan to return with my cast waders to try my luck in a few of
the harder to reach areas.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">At home, I’d
started to making lures following a few tips and tricks I got from some likeminded
folk on a well known f</span><span style="font-family: arial;">orum (plug plug). I bought a few components and basic
tools to get myself started and was enjoying the process of creating my own
little custom cranks. My painting was pretty uncouth as I was still only using
my better half’s UV nail varnish gear but the use of the foil tape on the sides
with the added scale and gill plate details really made them look pretty good, even if I do say so myself.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span> <span> </span></span></span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisK-FiKgm9ctWzXyPv2UZ_B5RxI79VLBciUQvp1iOiqFpcF1uOWUARfjyd4lbILrWS0GwDOXyPYE3Tznaitf_WE49341aE0Pq4aAZPH3LdG096CP3tYjQGYmgxX53lCXAyROcmaAoLhq4/s640/image1+%25283%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="640" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisK-FiKgm9ctWzXyPv2UZ_B5RxI79VLBciUQvp1iOiqFpcF1uOWUARfjyd4lbILrWS0GwDOXyPYE3Tznaitf_WE49341aE0Pq4aAZPH3LdG096CP3tYjQGYmgxX53lCXAyROcmaAoLhq4/w200-h151/image1+%25283%2529.jpeg" width="200" /></a> <img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="640" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTJPzZ1bfpMo27Zgh6m6Sd-as36onPKMz_mHCx5zAa7jvdFZ42vQDJfAkoaZIKy7gEOimAI2h9K2CHBUUaCKGpNDF5OX9dKYFZMYwqTWZn-hJHSB51EFqsUKb9TrDmJJDmfneqCu6vSQ/w200-h146/image0_%25282%2529%255B1%255D.jpeg" style="font-family: arial;" width="200" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;">6cm 16g crank & 5cm 6g surface beetle 5cm 12g crank & 4cm 8g crank</span><span> <span> </span><span> </span></span><span> </span> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I obviously wanted
to get out to try them out and hopefully catch something on one, or all of them
so I was deliberating about my exploits and I got to thinking about the
original backwater again where I’d first had my luck. I was convinced there
must be a few more fishable spots beyond the barbed wire fence so was an early session
one morning, possibly before any angry gamekeepers or more importantly, their
dogs, were awake. I had an early night and set my alarm for 4.30am with the
missus looking at me like I had two heads! “you’re getting up at what time on a
Sunday?" Needs must!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now I’m not an
advocate of fishing private areas or to simplify it “Poaching”, but also, I
don’t understand or agree with how stretches of natural river can be owned by
an estate or household to the exclusion of all others. And anyway, there’s
always the get out of jail free card isn’t there ’’Me sprackens de non Anglais mate !’’</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="FR"> </span>So with the alarm silenced
and a quick </span><span style="font-family: arial;">caffeine injection, I made my way, stealthily, to my chosen spot of
transgression.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Arriving at the
barbed wire from a different path this time I found there was no need to climb
over it risking the safety of my most prized assets. The fence actually stopped
a few yards back from the edge of the water and so could be negotiated quite
easily.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I found a spot
just past the steep slope I’d slid down previously where you could cast from a
high ledge across the start of a deeper pool. There were enough features to
hold fish but after a few casts to each likely spot, I’d seen no interest from
anything. I could see quite a few shoals of micro chub which I never take as a
particularly good sign as I’ve found they tend to stay away from the bigger
fish. I don’t know if chub are cannibalistic but I’m sure if a quick flash of a
side flank took their fancy, they wouldn’t stop to determine the species before
engulfing it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I could see a
clear green area just through the trees further on so I pushed through and come
out onto what could only be the very edge of the garden of whatever household
owned it. Feeling a little apprehensive and naughty I thought “just a few
chucks then ill scarper”, after all, it did look very chubby.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Well after a dozen
or so casts fanning the area from my knees, not just keeping a low profile for
the chub this time, I plopped the lure right on the edge of a snag on the far
bank. I’d tried all of my lures at this point and was happy with the action
from them, but now Gary glitter was back on, which was becoming my banker!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I noticed a dark
shape follow it but turn away making me think it’d spooked, only for it to
smash the lure from underneath and go berserk on the surface!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Shhhhhh,dont you
know I’m not meant to be here!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Anyway, after a
brief but chaotic fight she was in the net and I got a proper look at her. I
knew it was a decent chub but this was big, and I know coming from me after my
previous disappointments from fish guesstimations my word can possibly not be entirely
trusted but this was definitely bigger than any chub I’d had yet, it had thick
back more liking to a carp a really big head. I would say confidently this was
my 5lb plus fish.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">But as karma has a
way of kicking you in the assets you’d successfully protected from the barbed
wire, especially when you’re being a bit naughty, I got to my bag to get my
scales for the all important weighing, and realised, I’d left them on the worktop
in the garage where I'd used them to weigh a parcel I was sending through the
post, which</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> serves me
right for being a downright dirty trespasser.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHIMuo9S8JBK1bhDt-AHSEGYLBimwVN-9Wg96OquhZ2gQb9nBquZTEyuBg0aF2wChp-fM76IWgR1TEYAk3Bws2M7D2oP_4DzO9YyjLU5wLITFb8zie3CXtGGW6WMsgGm55sSIPy0B9mZk/s320/IMG_8639.jpg" width="320" /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">A few snaps and
with the fish returned I made my escape with mixed emotions. Happy with the
capture of such a great fish but annoyed at myself for such a stupid mistake in
preparation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I will finish off
with admitting that I got brave again a week or so later. Another early alarm
had me heading back to try and catch the same fish again in the hopes of confirming
my presumptions with the scales, which were most definitely in my bag this
time. The fish was easily identifiable as I’d noticed its left eye was bulging
out like you see on saltwater fish after they’d been dragged up to a boat from
a deep wreck or reef. No idea what could have caused it?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I made my way back
to the scene of the crime but was met with a bit of perimeter modernization.
The barbed wire fence had been extended by some way into the water.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Had I been spotted
? did they have cameras ? had I left some footprints?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">God knows ? but I
took it as a sign to close this chapter and push my luck elsewhere, and as
little bonus, after trying a few “legal” spots on the way back to the car, I
had my first fish on one of my homemade lures. Only a jack of around 3lb but it
still felt good.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">So in a nutshell,
that’s the start to my 2020 chub season.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The hunt for an officially
recorded 5lb+ chub continues and if it comes to one of the lures of my own
creation, it will be all the more special.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Stay safe all and
tight lines, o</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ver and out!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Joe Birch</span></p>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-90457405370789856412020-08-07T10:40:00.001+01:002020-08-07T10:40:23.363+01:00Newport Taffia <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOO1Lrc66xxCCgAmI0aYyB8uUHXN1A5_39_21JdcI_W5JHTTqC4cULcnAkIMB-GJCeH33jTxS0ugCp0P80QiaLiiOmu3sy1ue0rPPUdJVzc2FcHwM5c11K1jbGVGXLvmulhzdmEoh4fg/s1600/Llandegfedd1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="794" data-original-width="1181" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOO1Lrc66xxCCgAmI0aYyB8uUHXN1A5_39_21JdcI_W5JHTTqC4cULcnAkIMB-GJCeH33jTxS0ugCp0P80QiaLiiOmu3sy1ue0rPPUdJVzc2FcHwM5c11K1jbGVGXLvmulhzdmEoh4fg/s320/Llandegfedd1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On a recent fishing trip to the Cotswolds I met a few pike
anglers from just outside of London and had a very interesting day sharing
funny stories from previous pike days when I realised that a lot of the people
I mentioned were not recognised by any of them. This left me to ponder on how a
group of pike anglers generally known as the Newport Taffia could be unknown to
a wised-up group of anglers as these.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bearing this in mind I decided to write a brief article on
these individuals who remarkably all came from an area less than a few miles
square. This is made particularly significant due to the fact that there were
no pike fishing venues of any worth within an hours drive in any direction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is important to note that the anglers in question, when
at their peak, had very few books of any significance available to them, no
internet or informative magazines. No fancy clothing or thermal boots at a time
when we had real Winters, they just had instincts and a great love of this past
time so misunderstood by the general public. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4WB7ncMgMjjzTUAGzKWq3wowKIlzUGl5nA9swJPZlF671M3AcYyUL2Zh3IP9QrtR1JTN9MKS02R7AYiJiJs20Vv2bXEri3cEn_mk-vC-Y7pXX9EYhlVB3gY-4uRHcPFRoqfPyjbr64I/s1600/PC132402.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4WB7ncMgMjjzTUAGzKWq3wowKIlzUGl5nA9swJPZlF671M3AcYyUL2Zh3IP9QrtR1JTN9MKS02R7AYiJiJs20Vv2bXEri3cEn_mk-vC-Y7pXX9EYhlVB3gY-4uRHcPFRoqfPyjbr64I/s320/PC132402.JPG" width="320" /></a>Now the reader may not be aware of the name of these anglers
so I will name them now in no particular order of achievement.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bob Jones, Pete Climo, Phil Pearson, Paul Sullivan, and John
Matthews. I don`t include myself in this group as I am a Cardiff boy who
although born outside of the magic triangle, from the age of fourteen was
brought up (angling wise) within it. The one thing that may explain this enigma
is the fact that we were all members of Newport Anglers Association which was
the catalyst that brought us all together. Inter school angling competitions
also played a part which unfortunately no longer take place. So here
goes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bob Jones.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A teacher by profession who in the early seventies was one
of the only anglers to have caught a thirty pound pike and carp. No mean feat
considering the scarcity of carp in those days. The aristocrat of the group (I
use the word group under advisement as these are not group people), he was the
lucky one and nicknamed Golden Balls for some reason which escaped me as I
write. A few occurrences come to mind when thinking of Bob from those days and
one was the day when he had two twenties (using two live baits given by me) on
a day out with me and Pete. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the way home we were sworn to secrecy and not to tell
Phil or Paul when we had our weekly get together in a local pub. Pete and
myself were in first and both stated that we all blanked, then Bob came in and
said, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did “you hear I had two twenties on Saturday”.
Unbelievable. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His first 30 pound pike is a story in itself. John Matthews
had arrived at dawn at the venue and was set up when Bob appeared an hour later
and asked John (who hadn`t caught anything up until then) if he could fish next
to him. John agreed and Bob cast his first rod out and within minutes his dead
bait was taken and Bob had his first of his 5 thirties. From that day to this I
haven`t witnessed John bank fishing with anyone else and may explain his hermit
like behaviour in later life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can also remember one Winter day when we were fishing a
local water where I always brought a small gas cooker with me to have
breakfast. Positioning the cooker up wind so as the smell drifted down to where
Bob was fishing I knew it wouldn`t take long for him to weaken and come to me
with his begging bowl. I had the opinion that Bob was rationed meat at home.
True to form he sidled up and asked if he could have a sausage. I said
yes and as quick as a flash and like Billy the Kid in a gun fight he drew a hot
dog bap out of his pocket. `Stick in there` he said. I wouldn`t
have minded but it was already buttered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another memory from the past was when Bob and myself
attended a meeting concerning the proposed closure of Llangorse Lake to all
boats including anglers. This was an attempt to turn Llangorse into a nature
reserve by local bird watchers stating that some rare threatened species over
wintered the Lake, and it was a vital location for their survival. I
represented the PAC and Bob represented himself which is not an uncommon
occurrence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The local bird watching `expert` enthralled the Lake owner and
local councillor with his knowledge of these birds until Bob stopped him noting
that the species in question were wading birds and the area he had designated
for their survival was 14 feet deep and totally unsuitable for these
precious birds. Admitting that he hadn`t carried out any sort of depth survey
we quickly agreed to a restriction around the Lakes perimeter approximately 50
yards from the bank leaving the rest of the Lake for the rest of us. It was the
only feasible resolution considering the circumstances.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Without doubt if Bob hadn`t have been there with his wider
range of knowledge I am sure fishing and all boating activities would have been
banned to this day. It is his legacy, a legacy not many people are aware of and
they should be eternally grateful. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGsop7jHInoo07BurMHlqWlNpKxYJEKMPMLVEnTBtIhuZTDbvFEjXhvfdQ_bebUWmT6-CsAij89dTaamOElU4WDSQFwG2K2XtmS35zpu2Nz6poDEQqKUE69Qf3ESiJPkLMe3TC5TjPBZY/s1600/edwards+pike.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGsop7jHInoo07BurMHlqWlNpKxYJEKMPMLVEnTBtIhuZTDbvFEjXhvfdQ_bebUWmT6-CsAij89dTaamOElU4WDSQFwG2K2XtmS35zpu2Nz6poDEQqKUE69Qf3ESiJPkLMe3TC5TjPBZY/s320/edwards+pike.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pete Climo. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pete worked at the British Steel Whitehead site in Newport
and is the only one of the gang to catch a forty pound pike. This Llandegfedd
pike was caught in a most unusual way succumbing to a small spinner maybe
intended for another species but none the less a fantastic fish form a man who
first got me interested in piking and was a great help for a long time. For the
life of me I can`t remember when or why we stopped fishing together. I think my
emigrating had some thing to do with it and we lost touch for over six
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter is a direct individual not afraid to set you straight (in a nice
way) but also has a sense of humour. He told me one day of a trip away when the
local bailiff noticed that he had a small stone resting on his silver paper
attached to the line for bite detection saying it was noddyish. The following
day he saw the bailiff coming and from a bush behind where he was fishing
produces a half house brick which replaced the stone. I think he used that
method for many years after. Peter was also responsible for the statement that
fishing with mackerel was like fishing with bare hooks which I think he lived
to regret. He and Bob also couldn`t understand why we all went to Ireland when
we could catch the same stamp of pike at home. I don`t think they really “got
it” as unless you fish away from your home patch you will never realise the
challenge presented by fishing these large untamed waters.It must be noted that
Bob and Pete smashed the British eel record the story of which has been
detailed in a previous issue of Catch Cult. Pete and Bob mainly fished together
and this partnership has only been curtailed for non- fishing reasons.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paul Sullivan.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A steel erector/draughtsman by trade he was for a long
period Phil Pearson boat partner until one fateful day when he had a number of
twenties from his end of the boat and Phil blanked. From that day they fished
together but not in the same boat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He was part of the trip to Lough Corrib that resulted in a
week that will forever last as one of the most production weeks pike fishing in
pike fishing history considering they were fishing a vast Lough of over 20
miles long.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was one trip when I noticed Paul fishing a area of
Lough Corrib which was usually fully reeded with a 6 metre gap in it which had
resulted from (what I assumed to be a gravel bar). We had noted this gap during
a previous trip in earlier times and it was an area which produce many big pike
despite only being a few feet deep. The one positive observation of this area
made me develop the Route Theory which explains how pike hold up in the same
areas on a regular basis and move from one area to another using the same route
most of the time. What this break in the reeds showed that pike were using the
gap to access shallower water behind the reeds instead of swimming through
then, hence a spawning routes was identified.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Routes exist outside of the spawning period as do holding
areas but usually away from the normally accepted spawning areas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I fished with Paul from school days and were the first to
venture to Ireland tench and bream fishing in the early seventies. He is even
mentioned in Rickards and Webb`s book, Fishing for Big Tench, catch a big Tench
from Lanesbourgh`s hot water stretch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Venturing to Loch Awe with John Mathews one Winter they
spent most (every) evening at the local pub and the one evening the landlord
took a call from Trevor Roberts who asked if there were two Welshmen in the
bar. The landlord said<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>`There are two
blokes here, one has a stretched face and the other looks ninety`That’s them` Trevor replied. Sometimes words are
far more explanatory than a
photograph. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John Mathews. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I get on really well with all my fishing partners and John
is no exception after all, you never argue with a man who owns a shot gun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have had a few Irish trips of note and
catching pike has nothing to do with it. Obsessed with my snoring which he describes as `frightening` (separate
beds) and his futile attempts to drink more whiskey than me we still to this
day get on well and really enjoy sitting in the bailiffs cabin at the Bob Small
Fishery talking over the good, and sometimes not so good old days. He was
involved with the Irish trip described by Phil Pearson in Dave Horton`s
Ultimate Pike which was the only trip to Ireland I missed during that
pre-netting period that resulted in a monster at 38+ pounds. On one Irish trip a really strange thing happened when
staying in Cornamona with Paul, Phil, Will Travers and of course John when I
went to toilet one morning after a few others and noticed that there was a
long, thin brown stain on the hand towel (which wasn`t there before, the stain
I mean) as though some one had used to dislodge damp debris from their nether
regions using the under sling method. I have recently discovered that this
action is called `Flossing`. Returning to the
breakfast table where they were all sitting and I subtly mentioned my discovery
and possible causes and waited for a response. It didn`t take long for John to
stand up and race to the toilet, and I quickly followed only to discover the
hand towel was gone. This will be forever known (and rightly) as the night of
the brown stain. What a
legacy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil Pearson.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil is a close friend of mine and used to work as a
Refrigeration Engineer but is now retired. We still fish together (different
boats) off North Wales every Summer and I have noticed a big change in his
personality over the years from his fanatical quest for his chosen species to
just being almost fanatical. He still puts in more effort than most even
bass/tope fishing and I have rarely caught more in a day than him. Mind you
that goes for most anglers. He (and Paul) haven’t pike
fished for over ten years but when he was, his attention to detail did border
to me as mystifying. One instance that comes to mind was on arrival at the digs
in Ireland he was distraught that his freezer door was slightly ajar and the
tail fins of his mackerel had slightly defrosted. That always seemed a bit over
the top for me but he did catch a lot more than me so he may have had a point,
but another example of his attention to detail came on one trip to Mask with
Chris (from Hull) when I noticed in his `swag bag` that there were seven
potatoes in there with felt pen writing on each one as follows. M, TU, W THU
etc. He had actually identified the day of the week he was going to eat
them. Solely on a pike fishing note I can’t imagine
anyone pike fishing harder than Phil in his day as he sets sail before dawn and
doesn`t get back until after dark no matter what the weather and if he doesn`t
catch they just aren`t there. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil was the first pike angler to my knowledge to embrace a
more mobile method of angling using a boat and float trolling on the huge Irish
and Scottish waters. Armed with a 14 foot Bon Witco Wyth, a Bow mounted
electric, and a 40 horse outboard he would speed around the chosen water only
fishing specific areas for a short while and then moving onto another area
where pike would often attend. It was difficult not to be impressed with his
results and eventually I adopted the same methods and success followed. This
method has been successful on all the large waters encountered including Loughs
Corrib, Mask, Ree and Lochs Lomond, Ken and Awe. Even Windermere succumbed to
this method despite its generally huge depths in comparison to the previously
mentioned waters.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pike behaviour doesn`t change from country to country and is
a constant especially when fishing large expanses of water. If you had to
summarise what makes Phil different from the average then it would be that some
people look at a mountain, Phil wonders what on the other
side. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It must not be underestimated the influence this group of
anglers made not only on me but to a rising group of pike anglers to what is
actually possible. One forty, over thirty thirties and hundreds of
twenties is a testament to these anglers who fished in different (some say
better) times with no access to modern days technology or access to trout
stocked reservoirs. This country has produced many fine anglers but you would
be hard pressed to find another group of this type from such a small graphical
area of population. Some may say, “Why is this recognition so important or
even relevant to todays pike anglers”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
my opinion all sporting activities have history which has influenced modern day
participants and pike fishing is no exception. From an array of individuals who
have inspired by their commitment in this very specialised sport, generations
have progressed year by year from the experiences of others and these anglers
have made a generous contribution to angling in general and not just to piking.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin4pK32IC0Rg1lBTI4UB4tlaaFyDR_1EBo2wQs52p27OVqCvYx5aUDifgywQLaaRv8J6IBcsPCSUKjD4_50opo73AqQCJOBzCooNfx1rxZY6UJtMVnuzsLikfT6rVTYs1E3ZYHakoHYGo/s1600/PB263285.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin4pK32IC0Rg1lBTI4UB4tlaaFyDR_1EBo2wQs52p27OVqCvYx5aUDifgywQLaaRv8J6IBcsPCSUKjD4_50opo73AqQCJOBzCooNfx1rxZY6UJtMVnuzsLikfT6rVTYs1E3ZYHakoHYGo/s320/PB263285.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From the 1800`s to today a selective group of anglers have
been fascinated by pike as a species and from Lord Inveuries`s list to Fred
Bullers Doomsday book and even the Notable Pike Captures list compiled by
Neville Fickling we have all been spoilt with access to an insight into what is
possible if enough effort is put in on the right waters and one thing you
couldn`t have accused my friends of is lack of effort. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I hope the next time I meet on the bank side other like
minded anglers they will have read this article and at least had some idea of
what went before them and how modern day pike angling achievements are nothing
new and that they have a lot to thank these old stagers for their contribution
to pike angling as we know it today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Chris Donovan<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-54929125484741660112020-07-02T14:10:00.000+01:002020-07-02T14:10:47.197+01:00People, Pike Fishing and Haemorriods<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It is said that there is “Nowt funnier than folk” but what would we do without them?</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite all of the problems associated with friendships you need them as much as the air we breathe.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In pike fishing, friends are with you when you discuss methods, plan trips away, they travel with you to face untold hardship, they photograph your fish, they pat you on the back when you do well and knock you down when you don`t. They make it all worthwhile and that`s why I believe that pike fishing is all about people, it`s about you and me and we are important to each other as only we know the hardships involved in this most foolhardy pastime. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Having stopped pike fishing for six seasons during the mid-eighties to work overseas it gave me the opportunity to look at what really made me go out year after year in the freezing cold to catch pike. After careful consideration of all the factors I concluded that many things are important but only one was vital, and that was people. People are the common denominator in all leisure activities and without them, and their conversation our interest in all things are diminished.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I can go back many years and the one thing that stands out above all is that even through the hardest blanks, people, by conversation, heated discussion and encouragement would get you through the bad times and rekindle the enthusiasm which would enable me to get back out pike fishing. I will try and persuade you by using what may seem an unrelated event which occurred during my exile in Southern Africa how people play a major part in my life and maybe yours.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After suffering a series of embarrassing appointments with the local Doctor it was decided that I needed an operation to drastically redesign my rear end in compliance with generally accepted gas emission standards, a complaint commonly known as haemorrhoids. Not a pretty subject I hear you say, painful to read maybe, but not half as painful as your orifice being cut and stretched by person or persons unknown who are doing it in the misguided belief that they are actually doing you a favour. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am writing this article in the interest of science and also to highlight the tenuous connection between People, Pike Fishing and Haemorrhoids. “Impossible” I hear you say, but read on and inwardly digest. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was admitted into a Johannesburg Clinic only to be told that I would have to wait two days for my operation. It was at this point that I was glad that I had remembered the bring some of my pike fishing books with me. This would give me time to reread my favourite literature. It had been many years since I had read “Fishing for Big Pike” and I was looking forward to the experience.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As I lay in bed thumbing through the first pages a fellow patient was returning from the theatre writhing in agony having just had a kidney removed. He was winging for what seemed ages when I snapped</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Will you please be quiet, for Gods sake it`s only a kidney, it`s not the end of the World”</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The other patients looked me in horror but after all he was disturbing my reading and there are not many who would disagree with that. As I progressed through the book my memories were being revisited and the one thing that stood out in my mind above all was that no matter what I caught I could never remember all of the details, but I always remembered who I was with. I always remembered the people.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Just as I started to drift off into another wave of nostalgia, I was disturbed again by another whimpering patient who had just had a leg amputated. You can imagine my anger.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“For God`s sake, it’s only a leg mate, you have another one” I think you will agree that I was showing enormous compassion and restraint at this point considering the importance of my reminiscence. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“They do wonderful thinks with artificials”. He didn`t get the joke, obviously not a lure man but I thought the connection quite clever. I laughed but the other patients looked at me with sheer hate. Anyway, I got back to my book which was doing a great job of taking my mind off my impeding date with the “Sowetan Butcher” or as the nurses knew him as Jim. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The days passed quickly and I was nearing the end of the book when I was disturbed again by another sobbing inmate.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“What`s wrong with this one” I asked the nurse tenderly.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Cataracts” was the reply, so with a nomination for a Nobel Peace Prize imminent I quickly warned him that any noise for example screaming or howling was not permitted and the fact that he could lose an eye was irrelevant. Buck Up or Shut Up being the wards motto.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was at this point that I suddenly felt isolated in the ward. Gone were the frowns from by fellow patients which were quickly replaced by huge grins as the word spread of my visit to the dreaded “Sowetan Butcher”.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I awoke soon after the operation and felt quite numb, you know the feeling after ten pints of Guinness. The operation was a complete success, no crying or moaning from me, no Sir.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then it happened, my buttocks clamped together like a fully tightened vice. I was suffering from muscle spasms that can only be described as invigorating. All this and the plug was still in place.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“The rivets still in the hole” came a cry from behind a curtain. I bet it was that one-eyed bastard, anyway a small tear trickle down my cheek. My eyes were blurred and as they cleared, I could see three people standing at the bottom of my bed, one had a patch over his one eye, one holding a glass full of kidney stones, and the other standing with the aid of a crutch.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As our eyes met (or eye as the case may be) I thought for one second, they were going to offer me words of reassurance and friendship, words that would I would remember for the rest of my life</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then it suddenly dawned on me that after the pain had gone, after the spasms had stopped, after all of the memories of these two dreadful day`s had drifted into obscurity I would still remember the people, these people who were about to utter the words I was longing for. The people who had brought together Pike fishing and Piles by just being there.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then they leaned forward and in unison said.</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Donovan, you are a pain in the arse” and considering my present position I think they were right.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-03766fac-7fff-69f0-15dc-76f46f804de0"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Chris Donovan. </span></span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-17983880448267834062020-05-20T13:56:00.000+01:002020-05-20T13:56:10.302+01:00Distance Casting With Deadbaits<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfAFiiPVTTe5MFq81owI87gQYKoeXXqP0hkdctwPxWM6Kr1E0_vzoJ7dnQzpa_m9tQmDFWbO_dVUqo60-7kys9-cGmG3jEsRpuIioGxcpOIFgJG6k9UxWUiFreH8Qk0zhnT4kcRyR5wk/s1600/DSC00489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfAFiiPVTTe5MFq81owI87gQYKoeXXqP0hkdctwPxWM6Kr1E0_vzoJ7dnQzpa_m9tQmDFWbO_dVUqo60-7kys9-cGmG3jEsRpuIioGxcpOIFgJG6k9UxWUiFreH8Qk0zhnT4kcRyR5wk/s320/DSC00489.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">To write about casting deadbaits long distances for pike is a
bit of a minefield, as anyone who has for any length of time browsed some of
the pike fishing forums will tell you. The subject tends to crop up quite
frequently and straightaway the ‘I can’t do it , so no one else can’ brigade
comes out in force with “the blokes a dreamer”, “impossible”, “the aerodynamics
are all wrong” and other dismissive comments from armchair sceptics who have
never seriously attempted the task.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I
suppose the first real mention in print of casting a sizeable deadbait a long
way was in the Rickards and Webb “Fishing for Big Pike” book when the late
Barrie Rickards wrote of casting a frozen mackerel tail complete with a small
pilot float 100 yards. Later in his last book “Fishing for Big Pike Revisited”
this grew to 100 metres! I don’t ever remember anyone questioning Barrie on his
claim(s), baring in mind he achieved this using a 10 foot glass s/u carp
rod and a Mitchell 300 reel loaded with 12lb line.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Not long
after this Jim Gibbinson wrote quite a bit both in his book “Pike” (the Osprey
series) and in several magazines about how he and his friend Dave Blaxford used
powerful fast taper carp rods fitted with larger than normal reels (Abu
Cardinal 77) to cast heavy leads with small deadbaits (sprats and roach) sixty
to seventy yards out into Abberton Reservoir.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Eddie
Turner also went into some detail on distance casting in his excellent book
“Mega Pike”, this was again based around big leads and small baits. More
recently the late James Holgate also wrote a lot about pike fishing at range (
casting), most of which was published in his series of “Castaway” books</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">This
aside, very little has been written about the practice and application of
casting reasonable sized deadbaits relatively long distances and I would have
to admit I have never seen anyone actually cast what I would call a long way on
any pike water I have fished over the past fifty odd years. When most pike
anglers write or talk about placing their deadbaits at distance they are
normally referring to the use of a bait boat to drop off their baits</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Now I
can only refer to the waters I fish in the South East and if I took in say a
twenty mile radius of where I live (that would encompass both the Darent and
Medway Valleys), I only know of two waters where bait boats are allowed. So,
unless you fish either of these venues, the only way of putting a deadbait out
a long way is to cast it. Of course I like many other pike anglers have not
restricted my pike fishing to just local waters and some of the waters I have
travelled to have allowed the use of bait boats.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Over the
past twenty years or so I have spent a lot of time and effort (and money)
looking at ways I can cast good sized deadbaits a long way, relative to the
distances other pike anglers can cast. I have over many years had an interest
in long range carp fishing and have written on a frequent basis in both carp
books and magazines about how I go about it. Back in the early nineties I
joined the Kent Sportcast Casting Club and although I realised very quickly I
was just not big enough, tall enough or strong enough to make a top tournament
caster I still managed to hit distances of over 240 yards and have the Sea
Angler certificates to prove it. Therefore what follows is how I go about
putting deadbaits a long way, I don’t claim it’s the only way and I’m sure
there are others out there who can put their deadbaits just as far or further.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Back in
the nineties the late Steve Edwards and I decided to return to pike fishing in
the colder months after spending the previous five or six winters river
fishing, mainly for big chub with the odd sortie after barbel or roach if the
conditions were right. We had prior to this spell spent many winters pike
fishing (as well as river fishing) and enjoyed catching our share of good fish.
We decided to try again some of the many pits in the Darent and Medway Valleys
and initially did pretty well, most of the pits were regarded as carp and tench
waters and we rarely saw another pike angler. However even with what we saw as
a lack of pressure it soon became apparent we were getting repeat captures.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">We knew
the waters quite well as we had fished them for both tench and carp for many
summers, we had also done a fair amount of pike fishing on them prior to our
river efforts. This meant we were familiar with most of the features these pits
held, many of which were somewhat beyond our casting range and we quickly
became aware our tackle was not capable of casting our baits anywhere near to
these features - the gullies, bars and plateaux that we felt sure held
different and maybe bigger fish, we needed to find a way of getting our baits
much further out in to the pits.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">We
initially tried drifting when the wind was in the right direction and quickly
picked up a few new fish but on a couple pits certain banks were out of bounds
which often meant drifting wasn’t possible, therefore I, perhaps more than
Steve decided to explore a few areas of tackle which might mean I could fish
some of these far off features.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Rods</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_k8EiaxHuhfZi0NWjA9Q7LrBt8l_-hZn_LQaQV2uYxn3hzoknvzGCIu7WejERYP3PTW0fgR2mpO_Iw7RACor_TXGGkajp-k1qULIGgMaDpfzyPQnOrpA8ReQYOOl-o9u5IyAHqeINoA/s1600/DSC00582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_k8EiaxHuhfZi0NWjA9Q7LrBt8l_-hZn_LQaQV2uYxn3hzoknvzGCIu7WejERYP3PTW0fgR2mpO_Iw7RACor_TXGGkajp-k1qULIGgMaDpfzyPQnOrpA8ReQYOOl-o9u5IyAHqeINoA/s320/DSC00582.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">At the
time I was using Daiwa Dictator Esox 3lb rods (which were paired with Shimano
Spheros 5000 reels) a nice rod for close to medium fishing but it was obvious
they just did not have the backbone to power six or seven ounces of lead and bait
to any far off features, plus the ringing pattern didn’t help - too many and
too small.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I needed
something more powerful and by chance a visit to the tackle fair that used to
be held at The Detling Fairground each October resulted in me buying a couple
of Masterline Nigel Williams Big Pike Rods. These seemed like a very powerful
blank but again the ringing pattern was awful, however I could change the rings
if the rod was up to the job. The rods did feel very pokey and strong and the
first few casts seemed to go okay, so at first I had high hopes for them but on
my second trip out I blew one of them up !</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">After
this I borrowed a couple of DL Bait Blasters from a friend and was quite
impressed, some better distances followed, I tried to buy them but my mate
would not sell (couldn’t blame him), so eventually they went back. I then
purchased two Free Spirit Big Pike Rods from another friend, these were the
original Big Pikes with the box weave, again like the BB’s quite impressive but
I was still not totally convinced.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Not long
after this another friend asked if I would sell him the Big Pikes as he had
just gained access to a special water that held some very big pike, at just
about the same time I was offered four un- used still in their bags Tony
Fordham Predators, two of which had a 3.5 test curve, both deals were
done.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I used
the Predators for several winters and was pretty pleased with them, they would
certainly put my baits out a fair way but as my confidence in hitting them hard
grew and as I started to look at other areas to help with distance, so the
doubts started to creep in. I had started to join the lead and bait together
and use a somewhat more aggressive casting technique. Three ounces of lead and
three to four ounces of mackerel coupled with a very aggressive overhead cast
was asking too much of the rod, well and truly overloaded the rod could just
not perform and although my baits were going a fair way it wasn’t for me far
enough. Add to that I was getting concerned about the blanks ability to
withstand this regular abuse, I didn’t want to blow them up so toned things
down a bit and started to look for something else.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">By now I
had concluded that just about all the available pike rods with text curves of
three to three and a half pounds were just not up to the job, a really hard
Fordwich type cast and the combined weight of lead and mackerel needed
something stronger, more powerful.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I looked
at some of the spod rods available at the time and felt it was possible they
could be up to the job. Certainly, they could cast the weight and some carp
anglers were claiming huge distances with big spods, albeit they were using
light mono lines or fairly low breaking strain braid to heavy leaders. I looked
at a few but they just didn’t feel right, they didn’t feel like a proper pike
rod, add to that they looked a bit crude! This was some years ago and spod rods
have improved massively, some of the high end ones you can buy today would I am
sure make pretty good long range pike rods.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">As luck
would have it I was looking on an auction site when I spotted a rod that I was
not aware of, a Greys of Alnwick Pike Extreme, 13 feet long with a stated 5lb
test curve, could this be what I was looking for. I put in a silly high bid and
won it for less than £50. As soon as it arrived I was impressed, it didn’t have
any signs of use, I did speak to the seller who told me that he bought it at a
Greys Trade Show in 1996 and wanted it to fish in the big Scottish Lochs as
that’s where he had planned to move. The move never came off so the rod sat in
his garage for the next ten years. I did speak to Greys about the rod, at first,
they were pretty unhelpful but eventually put me on to someone who had been
with company for years. He told me there were only two made the other being in
Greys own museum, I did of course try to buy it but they wouldn’t sell, he also
told me they were part of a range of pike rods designed in conjunction with
James Holgate, again due to some policy changes very few of the range ever saw
the racks of a tackle shop. Going back to 1996, this was a time when Greys
produced their own carbon blanks, they later of course outsourced the making of
their blanks/rods to the Far East.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">One
thing I was not too happy with was the ringing of the rod and therefore changed
it, starting with a 50mm butt ring (that will get them going) and finishing
with a slightly bigger tip ring, I did use the same whipping thread and tipping
plus I used the same Aluminium Oxide type rings. This rod certainly met my
expectations and then some, being well able launch seven ounces of bait and
lead to the horizon, also because it has a proper pike action it is quite nice
when comes to playing even quite small pike. It’s my go to distance pike rod.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Line and
Leaders</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvVbdPprg3einjpeHWyQ49W6j3_LEGs6bQw0Sti1yIzrXgtxSDx0c57kRnaFv7XIACHmGqgXhEnOtfCE3nwTa5HzPd_IS7Xze0V9yc78Y_j2HjJ7tJvXNE0ivrqxnzUxFIgIs6FuFiis/s1600/DSC00575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvVbdPprg3einjpeHWyQ49W6j3_LEGs6bQw0Sti1yIzrXgtxSDx0c57kRnaFv7XIACHmGqgXhEnOtfCE3nwTa5HzPd_IS7Xze0V9yc78Y_j2HjJ7tJvXNE0ivrqxnzUxFIgIs6FuFiis/s320/DSC00575.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Sheer
distance of course is not all about the rod, although there’s no point going
any further if the rod is not up to it. Line, end tackle, bait and technique
all have a part to play. Line, mainline that is, is very important and plays a
major part in casting at range, firstly and most importantly it needs to be
light, physically light, heavy i.e. lines that sink quickly are a no, your line
needs to be the lightest you can find. It also needs to be soft (the good thing
is soft lines are usually light), it needs to be soft to reduce the choking at
the butt ring, even with a 50 mm butt ring the choking factor is massive, it’s
easier to choke something that is soft rather than something that is hard and
stiff. The diameter of the line should be as thin as needs but the weight and
softness of the line is more important. Lastly it must be strong, knot strength
being vital, abrasion resistance on soft light lines tends to be not quite as
good as on stiff heavy lines, although modern lines have all improved when it
comes to resistance to fraying, plus I always use a leader which being at the
end of the tackle is the section most likely to come into contact with snags,
rocks, bars and mussels.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">From
what I have just written you will have gathered I use monofilament. Why not use
braid? I do use braid for most of my pike fishing but not for blasting out
heavy deadbaits and leads, however careful you are, braid will always throw the
odd wind knot if you are hitting the rod very hard, this will almost always
result in a crack off. Mono on the other hand, if you are careful, rarely
throws a wind knot and even if it does if you are using strong line it rarely
snaps but simply runs round the tangled ring.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Some
years ago when I was looking for a line with the afore mentioned four
attributes for extreme range fishing for carp without a leader (the rules), I
tried and tested many lines, some which weren’t available in this country. Two
of the lines I looked at and tested were made by a company called Xzoga, one
was called Busterlon the other Rubylon. Both were very light (physically) very
soft and had a very low diameter, 25lb breaking strain was just .33 in
diameter. Both had good knot strength as well, both sat beautifully on the
spool, were very smooth and cast like a dream, the only drawback was that they
were pre-stretched which can cause a problem if they snap i.e. the section of
line that is under stress prior to the break must be stripped off, as the
strength of that section will be drastically reduced. However, being
pre-stretched is a big plus when it comes to bite indication. I did not use
either for my distance carp fishing but have used the Busterlon in 25lb for my
distance pike fishing for quite a few years now with no problems. I do however
use a leader, the one I favour is the Fox Snag Leader in 35 lb, very strong and
somewhat underrated, it’s worth giving it a good stretch to remove any “memory”
before casting in anger.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To join
my main line to the leader I use a back to back Uni Knot, three turns with the
leader </span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jycA1G56Ds4f9pAdbtsPS7vZSo-fLBHCaTsINk-1gE0dBNYrFomo_H3u_SIhm2k00pn83IS07Pj5PY2189hzSRpJOtjA5fLA4BNW_6DOaIV63Bu_WlyUiAv3Nao6Xx5SqJAq8Xfd5nA/s1600/DSC00576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jycA1G56Ds4f9pAdbtsPS7vZSo-fLBHCaTsINk-1gE0dBNYrFomo_H3u_SIhm2k00pn83IS07Pj5PY2189hzSRpJOtjA5fLA4BNW_6DOaIV63Bu_WlyUiAv3Nao6Xx5SqJAq8Xfd5nA/s1600/DSC00576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6jycA1G56Ds4f9pAdbtsPS7vZSo-fLBHCaTsINk-1gE0dBNYrFomo_H3u_SIhm2k00pn83IS07Pj5PY2189hzSRpJOtjA5fLA4BNW_6DOaIV63Bu_WlyUiAv3Nao6Xx5SqJAq8Xfd5nA/s320/DSC00576.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and four turns with the mainline. I also lubricate the knot with
Krystons Granite Juice before tightening the knot right down. The leader should
have at least four turns around the spool when the lead/bait is hanging level
with the spigot/overfit. The leader knot should always be placed at the back of
the spool before casting. When really loading up the rod for a big cast always
check the spool is locked up tight and wear a finger stool. It’s always worth
wetting the line before a big cast and/or applying some of Gardner’s Fluoro
Plus line treatment. Lastly regardless of what you might read or hear
NEVER use a heavy braid leader to a mono mainline.</span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Reels</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I don’t
think reels play a major part in the casting equation, as long as they are of
the “big pit” type with a good line lay, almost any of the mid-priced ones from
Daiwa, Shimano or Okuma will do the job. Whatever, the reel does need to be
fairly robust as long-range piking usually means they are going to have a hard
life. I use an old Shimano Ultegra which seems more or less bullet proof, it
does have a nice line lay and a fairly quick retrieve. I have got a spare spool
loaded with the same 25lb line 35lb leader just in case, one or two of the pits
I fish have pretty hostile bottoms and lines can sometimes incur damage.
Another reel I have used which like the Ultegra is also bullet proof is the
Daiwa Tournament 6000T, only slight downside is its slow retrieve. Last thing I
would say is that every front drag reel I have used from the three mentioned
companies has had a smooth and reliable clutch.</span></span></span>
<br />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Business
End</span></span></span><br />
</span><br />
<div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background: white;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_madZvc9VJpV2p0t_ELS_fePet1Jh5IWKNb0obHsHnyURDgfn-Zv5glkzsa5CvuvPGgfPNvV-kQMVdEcu4MwByqtJ0Ir6ei9V8DlwJW06uiZ_CO75fKRzeoIPzhhfWt6UZZmiFvCY20/s1600/DSC_0055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_madZvc9VJpV2p0t_ELS_fePet1Jh5IWKNb0obHsHnyURDgfn-Zv5glkzsa5CvuvPGgfPNvV-kQMVdEcu4MwByqtJ0Ir6ei9V8DlwJW06uiZ_CO75fKRzeoIPzhhfWt6UZZmiFvCY20/s320/DSC_0055.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now
let’s look at the last yard or so. To the end of my leader I attach/tie a small
but strong swivel. To the swivel I attach an up-trace, in my case a long (30inch)
length of 45lb Bleeding Leader, this is crimped to the swivel and covered with
a tight-fitting rubber/ neoprene sleeve. On the up-trace runs one of those
large lined run rings as sold by the catfish tackle companies. This is large
enough to easily pass over the sleeved swivel. The other end of the up-trace is
crimped to a snap link swivel, the crimp has a 10mm rubber bead forced over it,
the bead retains the run ring on the up-trace. To the run ring I tie a length
of heavy (40 to 50 lb) mono, this length of mono must be shorter by a couple of
inches than your hook trace. Another snap link is tied to the other end of the
heavy mono, I tend to cover both the mono ends, run ring and snap link knots
with rubber/neoprene sleeves as they help with reducing tangles. My hook trace
is around twenty inches long and is made from 40lb AFW wire, it usually has two
size four Owner trebles attached. I would again emphasis the heavy mono link
MUST be two to three inches shorter than the hook trace. I will attach several
photos which hopefully will makes the end tackle clear.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXyyDkrbSVzGsZEFwkTEF3UD7BePaQdR-fb9QRqiz0JL-4ShG5UBJif7gt5PJM7gIJqUBrmXb6gnhB3CYmcaUfGkNKIvwQDuf1VUEi7s40A-pjpB1pvjfnf1odAB9bCPFlt6bNHdsIibs/s1600/DSC00577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXyyDkrbSVzGsZEFwkTEF3UD7BePaQdR-fb9QRqiz0JL-4ShG5UBJif7gt5PJM7gIJqUBrmXb6gnhB3CYmcaUfGkNKIvwQDuf1VUEi7s40A-pjpB1pvjfnf1odAB9bCPFlt6bNHdsIibs/s320/DSC00577.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
</span></span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
</span></span><br />
<div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="background: white;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bait</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<b></b><b></b><br /></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">For bait
I usually use mackerel because it is very dense, easy to cut and also fairly
easy to mould. I buy mine from Neville (sorry) or On Line Baits, both sell
medium size ones of six to eight inches in length. When I get them, I normally
select a dozen or so of the seemingly straightest ones and allow them to
slightly thaw, I then cut them an inch or so behind the head at an angle of forty-five
degrees, I also cut of their tail fin. I then massage and mould them so they
are perfectly straight, very important as it will limit the amount they will
twist or tumble in flight, then I lay them on a board and re-freeze them, they
are then put in their own bag so they don’t get mixed up with other baits.</span></span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">End Rig</span><br />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">To the
end of my heavy mono link I attach a 3.5oz tri-lobe lead (these are sometimes
called riser leads), I lay the straightened mackerel tail on the flat side of
the tri-lobe lead and then bind the two together using PVA funnel web/mesh. If
you find this a bit slippery you can give the lead and bait a squirt of
plumbers freeze spray which will keep them together whilst you bind them. Also,
if you want to slow down the PVA’s dissolve rate just dip the PVA mesh in a
bottle of fish oil, don’t leave it in just dip it in and out.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2_bPzHlKgiM9p3Mj-pdk8wJcqFV8eGgXGLmF7mOwDFMwN3lSRpuDT2d8aViTVHeSITkhZentG9_bwFxeQ93xEt6XvTgNBvbC9XIV5rTw9lLNjA0wDvfDKeOezttWijW_pXsODQP9SP4/s1600/DSC_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I finish
off the binding at the tail with one of those PVA cable ties. Hooks are then
inserted into the bait in the normal way, the leader and the heavy mono link
should then be supporting the weight of the bait and lead, the wire hook trace
should have a bow in it, in no way should it bare any of the baits/leads weight</span>.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2_bPzHlKgiM9p3Mj-pdk8wJcqFV8eGgXGLmF7mOwDFMwN3lSRpuDT2d8aViTVHeSITkhZentG9_bwFxeQ93xEt6XvTgNBvbC9XIV5rTw9lLNjA0wDvfDKeOezttWijW_pXsODQP9SP4/s1600/DSC_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2_bPzHlKgiM9p3Mj-pdk8wJcqFV8eGgXGLmF7mOwDFMwN3lSRpuDT2d8aViTVHeSITkhZentG9_bwFxeQ93xEt6XvTgNBvbC9XIV5rTw9lLNjA0wDvfDKeOezttWijW_pXsODQP9SP4/s200/DSC_0067.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAqTGfcSOKilmBnYP_kntbrVMDvRx6nRjjYT8WZxWiPlXkIBl5tdhC_RJIbjOxrMuNxicgFdyUKxSXVgBYIbglwijkRjideVq4tiLE4YZdgqm_GI3W3Z5IK9WF1TqfMV-IsnyIVkEdsw/s1600/DSC_0043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAqTGfcSOKilmBnYP_kntbrVMDvRx6nRjjYT8WZxWiPlXkIBl5tdhC_RJIbjOxrMuNxicgFdyUKxSXVgBYIbglwijkRjideVq4tiLE4YZdgqm_GI3W3Z5IK9WF1TqfMV-IsnyIVkEdsw/s200/DSC_0043.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Casting
Technique </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For
casting long distances, the correct technique is critical for most of us, yes
there will be the odd guy who despite having in theory an awful ungainly
casting style who will somehow send his end tackle miles out in to the lake,
there is always the exception to the rule. For most of us a structured,
developed technique built on solid foundations will always work best. Over the
past twenty-five to thirty years overhead casting techniques have moved forward
enormously and I believe for casting fair sized deadbaits and heavy leads
overhead casting is both the safest (for the pike) and most accurate (for us)
way of getting our baits out a long way. I am a pretty competent pendulum and
off the ground caster but would never use either technique to cast a
deadbait/heavy lead combo.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC4nq2bbOUWFHgVIkU8HjYWn-n2KyCD9oQItl5hD88p5ELO-0kCoz2sJhc1AJ55Gnb6y5I5JvA11eqTntw6vuZ6U5wi_vYZK9ypudT33Gw7G7ogClgAJ5vrSuyNtaZWsYDWlHrcqynOHg/s1600/DSC_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC4nq2bbOUWFHgVIkU8HjYWn-n2KyCD9oQItl5hD88p5ELO-0kCoz2sJhc1AJ55Gnb6y5I5JvA11eqTntw6vuZ6U5wi_vYZK9ypudT33Gw7G7ogClgAJ5vrSuyNtaZWsYDWlHrcqynOHg/s320/DSC_0023.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaEIsONTRhhnfzrJVJSiJYE_CcUwim88tEvgOS6fsRTZNL8Sr1kMrp1K5yXDSQi_v2OwX4Sv1YXOEBXObLQspthxmGda5sBc5P3owUze5ZZteEpk9jSrd8vKwg33PltxzZpmhCaCJ5nM/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaEIsONTRhhnfzrJVJSiJYE_CcUwim88tEvgOS6fsRTZNL8Sr1kMrp1K5yXDSQi_v2OwX4Sv1YXOEBXObLQspthxmGda5sBc5P3owUze5ZZteEpk9jSrd8vKwg33PltxzZpmhCaCJ5nM/s320/DSC_0008.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8chOwNKeTZfm-c0hh82OSIyCjgOaT7iTmxLhSubg3wk3fDlTHFMNLxSEaIqvoxvDWpfkCBm7hnfn3mvKjSegfGCR3c2JGmIUvuSel9Hr-5Dd6efM4SzrI-thXG7wi85aL0Zh2OfiokCQ/s1600/DSC_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8chOwNKeTZfm-c0hh82OSIyCjgOaT7iTmxLhSubg3wk3fDlTHFMNLxSEaIqvoxvDWpfkCBm7hnfn3mvKjSegfGCR3c2JGmIUvuSel9Hr-5Dd6efM4SzrI-thXG7wi85aL0Zh2OfiokCQ/s320/DSC_0026.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSFPNX7m4qVO9EEvnbfbDALNp2enBJlX5p0u1B1llHpDvl8PYpgJjYu9FYjdb9SLNYQfe15-nfQ5X4wZOmA896gfQ3oZowuSAE3HtMU9-zx0RisO43J3cbN4bbnABe1mnryKbm-aqpjE/s1600/DSC_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSFPNX7m4qVO9EEvnbfbDALNp2enBJlX5p0u1B1llHpDvl8PYpgJjYu9FYjdb9SLNYQfe15-nfQ5X4wZOmA896gfQ3oZowuSAE3HtMU9-zx0RisO43J3cbN4bbnABe1mnryKbm-aqpjE/s320/DSC_0032.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSFPNX7m4qVO9EEvnbfbDALNp2enBJlX5p0u1B1llHpDvl8PYpgJjYu9FYjdb9SLNYQfe15-nfQ5X4wZOmA896gfQ3oZowuSAE3HtMU9-zx0RisO43J3cbN4bbnABe1mnryKbm-aqpjE/s1600/DSC_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSFPNX7m4qVO9EEvnbfbDALNp2enBJlX5p0u1B1llHpDvl8PYpgJjYu9FYjdb9SLNYQfe15-nfQ5X4wZOmA896gfQ3oZowuSAE3HtMU9-zx0RisO43J3cbN4bbnABe1mnryKbm-aqpjE/s1600/DSC_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSFPNX7m4qVO9EEvnbfbDALNp2enBJlX5p0u1B1llHpDvl8PYpgJjYu9FYjdb9SLNYQfe15-nfQ5X4wZOmA896gfQ3oZowuSAE3HtMU9-zx0RisO43J3cbN4bbnABe1mnryKbm-aqpjE/s1600/DSC_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></a>
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="color: black; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">The first major step in the advancement of the overhead thump cast took place on the banks of Fordwich carp lake near Canterbury, the anglers fishing there
could only fish one bank and the carp soon learnt to clear off to the far bank.
The carp anglers fishing there looked at ways they could improve their casting
and soon came up with a better overhead thump. They extended their arms high
above their head to increase the arc the lead had to travel through and at the
same time took a big step forward at the start of the cast so adding body
weight to their casts. This worked very well and even then way back in the
eighties some of the really good casters were hitting 160 yards, this technique
was later taken by the Fordwich guys to Harefield Lake a well known pit in the
Colne Valley which attracted carp anglers from all over the country thus of
course many of them picked on this extended arc cast and took it back to their
local waters.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">In
recent years there has been a massive growth in carp matches in both Romania
and Bulgaria which has led to the carp anglers in both countries developing
casting techniques to get their baits further and further out into what are
sometimes huge lakes. This in turn has led to lots of carp casting tournaments
in both countries (just look there’s loads on YouTube) again overhead casting
techniques have been improved and perfected in these competitions, using what
is regarded as “standard” carp rods some of these competitions are won with
casts in excess of 210 metres. I think the record distance for an overhead cast
now stands at over 250 yards.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">The
Bulgarian/Romanian version of the Fordwich cast is what I use to send my
deadbait way out into unfished water. What the Bulgarians and Romanians have
done is simply added body rotation to the Fordwich cast, which makes quite a bit
of difference without losing accuracy.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I start
by standing sideways on to the direction I want to cast, my feet fairly close
together, my arms will be extended above my head, I am right handed so take
that into account. My right arm will be slightly bent, my back slightly arched
so my arms/ hands are a little further behind my head so I can see where I want
to cast. The drop from rod tip to bait/lead is half the length of the rod so
down to the overfit/spigot, I will lean back until my lead/bait are almost
touching the ground making sure my arms remain extended. I will look up at an
angle of forty-five degrees and find a target in the sky, that is where I will
aim and it is also my release of line point. I will simply make a big step
forward with my left foot in the direction I want to cast, therefore using both
body weight transfer and body rotation, once my left foot is planted my arms
will be pulling (left hand) and pushing (right hand). It is vital that at the
release point you try and keep the rod tip in line with the line leaving the
rod to minimise friction. I’m sure it all seems a bit complicated, over the top
and maybe a little uncomfortable but it’s not really. I will add several photos
of the cast to hopefully make it easier to understand. </span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Finally,
just to show how effective this cast can be, I have access to some reclaimed
land which I have all marked out for casting practice. Last summer I took a
carp rod, a reel loaded with .30 line (about 12lb) a 30 lb leader and a 3.5 oz
lead, I would also point out I am 72 years old, about 12.5 stone in weight and
5ft 7 inches tall, the best cast I made that day using the technique described
was 214 yards.</span></span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">What I
have written about is how I have gone about trying to put a reasonable lump of
mackerel out in to the pit to a place the pike have never seen a bait before.
It is however quite possible to tone things down a bit but use the same
procedure and process to put say a smelt a really long way out in your lake or
pit. All I do is use a lighter rod, in my case a Century C2D, a casting reel
loaded with a Fox Exocet Tapered Leader 35/15 and a lighter tri-lobe lead of
around 2.75oz. The smelt and lead together weigh around 4oz so well suited to
most of the current 3 to 5oz carp casting rods. The Century C2D I use has a
slightly more forgiving butt section which helps a little with the somewhat
bulky lead/bait casting weight. This set up can be cast huge distances if done
with the correct technique and areas of the lake that have never seen a pike
bait can be really explored.</span></span></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hopefully
what I have written will be of some help to those interested or struggling with
the subject. I do know from the number of PM’s, e-mails, ‘phone calls and
conversations I get/have from anglers that a lot of pikers want to know how to
get their deadbaits further out in the waters they fish.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Cheers John Carver (Chub Creek)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMK3WKRFM-hWB4-ATe7K4OC0JAMnn4KbaWctAzrqPoUcL-eQqsaDzMRyH1IZOLW7VDrJoeO4GjrKMinXv8A6euM2P4kxoeY84FFOcuwewtbM0pyaLH9CRFE-91yOxF3y985-M_koY02I/s1600/IMG_1410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMK3WKRFM-hWB4-ATe7K4OC0JAMnn4KbaWctAzrqPoUcL-eQqsaDzMRyH1IZOLW7VDrJoeO4GjrKMinXv8A6euM2P4kxoeY84FFOcuwewtbM0pyaLH9CRFE-91yOxF3y985-M_koY02I/s320/IMG_1410.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-89547130918379292682016-05-13T12:43:00.000+01:002016-05-13T12:47:58.478+01:00Gold Rush!<i>By Paul Millar (aka, Paul_the_piker)</i><br />
<br />
Summer arrived early in good old Blighty this weekend! The mercury was touching 25 yesterday and it was far too warm to remain indoors, so what better way to spend a glorious late spring evening than pursuing the enigmatic and bewitching cruey! I have very fond memories of these fish as a youngster but I haven’t caught or specifically tried to catch them, well, ever really, but knew of a small pond about 45mins from home that was rumoured to hold some absolute crackers for the North West, fish of over 2lb, which even by national standards are a rare beast these days, so at 16:00 I was traveling down the motorway with Uncle Mike in tow!<br />
<br />
Content with just spending some time by the water doing what I love, I had no expectations, but I applied myself as I always do. I had chosen a swim in the North West corner of the little pool as the warm wind was pushing hard into there and my instinct told me it should hold some fish. 7.5’ deep at 6m out into the open water but with a very inviting 3.5’ at 12.5m next to a reed bed on the out of bounds west bank to my right. The wind was far too strong to fish the reeds swim so that would have to wait with the hope that the wind subsided later on. It was challenging at first with the strong south easterly making pole fishing awquard even on the 6m line and bites were not forthcoming, my mind wandered to what might be grazing over the crushed hemp and micro pellet loose feed I had cupped in next to the reed bed but the wind was still too strong to present a delicate pole rig with the finesse required for the crucians over there. It would have to wait…<br />
<br />
Another half an hour passed to around 19:00 and with only a couple of plump “just minted” roach to my name the wind seemed to subside ever so slightly. The opportunity had presented itself to have a look over on the reed line and with that I quickly switched rigs, baited the size 14 and shipped over. The wind was still strong enough to make presentation difficult and the rig was being flicked and pulled about but I managed to keep it steady just long enough for something to suck in the hook bait and cause the insignificant little orange pimple on the surface to disappear! With all the composure of a kid at Christmas, the pole was swung to the left, away from the reeds in anticipation of an angry cruey darting towards the reed bed in a bid to escape. Instead of the expected solid resistance a rather small but beautiful rudd came flying from the water like a Patagonian dorado! But, it was a fish, and gave me the confidence to continue to battle the wind on that line.<br />
<br />
Next put in, the float settled and after about 5mins dipped under again and this time I was met with spirited resistance. Initial instinct said tench as the number 14 elastic stretched towards the reeds but steady pressure soon had the culprit under control and boring straight down under the tip of the pole, with that tell-tale “jag jag” fight. At this point my mind began to consider the possibility that this could be the target species, but with relatively coloured water it wasn’t until it popped up and was scooped in one liquid motion into the waiting landing net that it was confirmed. And, what a stunner!! It’s brassy flanks glistening in the evening sun, ejecting water and flicking it’s pectoral fins in defiance. A clear PB (previous 1lb 10oz) by a considerable margin! Protocol followed and a number was assigned (2lbs 7oz) after which my trusty photographer, Uncle Mike, fired off a few quick snaps and she was returned to the water to make another young boys (at heart!) dreams come true! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnKWRpaHnBjOm2QO56lbf9ZCBR0tzdgcu9Bcw9YkxJZKmxZOAf6-GM1DM8ypYec0S5qco0rwwWpAnquDGmcVTXIfNJbu7IKBqfudtX_ybj7vUZZti4-TqikDuzIudOhzgvGNiVQu2YAc/s1600/paulmillar_gold_rush_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnKWRpaHnBjOm2QO56lbf9ZCBR0tzdgcu9Bcw9YkxJZKmxZOAf6-GM1DM8ypYec0S5qco0rwwWpAnquDGmcVTXIfNJbu7IKBqfudtX_ybj7vUZZti4-TqikDuzIudOhzgvGNiVQu2YAc/s320/paulmillar_gold_rush_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdCD_t7ax2-vC9WHsdSDaTz9Wrhs_y_4iIlzmAuaRLQuHFMIL6phDDem12qL6orNrEMH6gzA_a3pDajkrn3WPm1Ci5oE9ucRk7-A7OgVD8VbamifhK_XrA3LIlonw7U8o_78tBtQ_6t0/s1600/paulmillar_gold_rush_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdCD_t7ax2-vC9WHsdSDaTz9Wrhs_y_4iIlzmAuaRLQuHFMIL6phDDem12qL6orNrEMH6gzA_a3pDajkrn3WPm1Ci5oE9ucRk7-A7OgVD8VbamifhK_XrA3LIlonw7U8o_78tBtQ_6t0/s320/paulmillar_gold_rush_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
But we weren’t finished there! The line was topped up with a little more loose feed and left to settle following the disturbance that had been caused a short time ago. A return to the open water line demonstrated that nothing had moved in on that feed so there was no other choice than to return to the reeds in the hope that another golden dinner plate had moved in.<br />
<br />
Within 5mins the previous scene was re-enacted and another breath-taking specimen was lying in the folds of the landing net at my feet. Not quite as big as the previous but every bit as proud and handsome. At 2lbs exactly, it made it a brace of “twos” and me one very happy angler!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCyZ9zi3PI0fDC9rJReZrnjsKOYSGBjGpee7vWdQKE7vfWcODhSMrZX9qkAJbsQ-zeDhLzKAP-9ARAOT9AKlqVj0Gsnr3_OekF5nnVAeAsJZw01iIahOo_2etw6H1dLVdobsja6A2lkc/s1600/paulmillar_gold_rush_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCyZ9zi3PI0fDC9rJReZrnjsKOYSGBjGpee7vWdQKE7vfWcODhSMrZX9qkAJbsQ-zeDhLzKAP-9ARAOT9AKlqVj0Gsnr3_OekF5nnVAeAsJZw01iIahOo_2etw6H1dLVdobsja6A2lkc/s320/paulmillar_gold_rush_3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4J_CA7GNz7iCSsYDE7B8PtCPdzdRPdBVUmQKNQTfGmlohptxc7EMIEicwUIgIH6Xh0cWh6gzsDJKs-YXOH08bQ8uoHL7gsSNmXZbYfKY9_JCF7mbVlhBx4LO6iRdbe_IRuLuT2Wj8Uo/s1600/paulmillar_gold_rush_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4J_CA7GNz7iCSsYDE7B8PtCPdzdRPdBVUmQKNQTfGmlohptxc7EMIEicwUIgIH6Xh0cWh6gzsDJKs-YXOH08bQ8uoHL7gsSNmXZbYfKY9_JCF7mbVlhBx4LO6iRdbe_IRuLuT2Wj8Uo/s320/paulmillar_gold_rush_4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Hold the press! Good luck comes in threes doesn’t it? Back over to the reed line and around 15mins passed without an indication, thoughts of the commotion and the fading light causing any remaining fish to vacate the swim to deeper water had started to enter my head, until, the bronze semi-circular back of a cruey broke the surface not 6” from my float. A trail of pin headed bubbles tracked the course of the fish as it ambled through the swim picking up loose offerings at leisure as it did. I was tense as I awaited the inevitable dip on the float, but it never came? A quick lift of the rig proved my suspicions, no hook bait! Oh bother! Or words to that effect! The rig was re-baited and re-positioned with the speed of a cruey bite and as if by magic the float dipped under once more. Immediately it was clear that it was another cruey of a similar standard as those previous and the scales confirmed this with a weight of 2lbs 4oz! Scale and fin perfect, an Egyptian gold leaf sculpture brought to life, lay there before me and all expectations surpassed!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLS8YqomVuFsIoaBSQmdE5ZOEpl7CGBpAtw8-VXy1Vkw3QZdWZL8Ski3me1iVpoLLUahYNF2ScW3Khs95qMcKF8SiFJhJii2XgT3yLfX4GFZBPWrH5CcZz6MJTcQN8vOsYoGZ11ieueU/s1600/paulmillar_gold_rush_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLS8YqomVuFsIoaBSQmdE5ZOEpl7CGBpAtw8-VXy1Vkw3QZdWZL8Ski3me1iVpoLLUahYNF2ScW3Khs95qMcKF8SiFJhJii2XgT3yLfX4GFZBPWrH5CcZz6MJTcQN8vOsYoGZ11ieueU/s320/paulmillar_gold_rush_5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAOsvJM7TLTo5C8ImpWQA0tD7Hy6frZIwr-VLg7IhEO5XOymKqYyFPA1xIcPPyIZ0gAlcOx5_N5iIAa4LjedPw99_pXTDFQyFIVvywSJqoGM0UOCKPrZQvYkOtcQ9UZrqLpxSD3_EeTc/s1600/paulmillar_gold_rush_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAOsvJM7TLTo5C8ImpWQA0tD7Hy6frZIwr-VLg7IhEO5XOymKqYyFPA1xIcPPyIZ0gAlcOx5_N5iIAa4LjedPw99_pXTDFQyFIVvywSJqoGM0UOCKPrZQvYkOtcQ9UZrqLpxSD3_EeTc/s320/paulmillar_gold_rush_6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The evening was not done, but the next bite was met with a much more powerful and far less sedate fight that had the pink elastic stretched across the swim like a taught washing line! It could only be a doctor fish but it wasn’t long until those seductive teddy bear eyes were looking up at me having been subdued. <br />
<br />
As the light began to fade, the sun was setting on a session to remember and I drove home with an immovable smile and a spring in my step for the working week to come; the reason why my passion for angling is so entrenched firmly reinforced!Piscatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05827932249387859088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-6854883277350775622016-04-04T12:51:00.000+01:002016-04-04T12:51:25.350+01:00Q&A with Dave Horton, by Alan<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>CCD (CookiesDaughtersDad) AKA Alan</b></i><br />
<i><b>DH (Dave Horton)</b></i><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>CCD</b>, Hi ya Dave, I
was thinking of doing a question and answer thing for the pike pool
with some of the " notable pike anglers" , and I would like
to start with you, some of the questions may involve you supplying
the odd photo or two. How do you feel about that?<br />
<br />
<b>DH,
</b>Fire away old man! ;)<br />
<br />
<b>CCD</b>, Kicking things off,
How you been since we last nearly met at Rob's talk, was it a dodgy
back that's been the pain?<br />
<br />
<b>DH, </b> Alan, I am nothing
short of astonished at my improvement - the Physio was FANTASTIC and
today I had a full gym session at the Fire Stn too in preparation for
my functional assessment at HQ next week. A month back I had genuine
doubts about ever doing my operational job again but I'm very
confident of that now!<br />
<br />
<b>CCD</b>,Hope that goes well for
you. <br />
I have suffered a bit myself over the years with sciatica,
whats been your problem? was it a work related thing or was it simply
lifting a big fish without bending your knees?<br />
<br />
<b>DH, </b>
I had a fall whilst Swift Water Rescue training back in Oct. It
resulted in mass soft tissue damage in my lower back /glutes, left me
with 2 bulging discs and highlighted a degenerative issue consistent
with my manual line of work and being 51. It sounds worse that it is
and I've been taught management techniques in order that I may carry
on pretty much as before. In short I'm delighted!!!<br />
<br />
<b>CCD</b>,
That's a real shame for the story as I was hoping it was lifting a big
fish! But I'm glad you seam on the mend.</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
But enough of this
career hero fireman s***e, suitably admired I must say, so one last
question off fishing if I may, what about the Horton's family, mum,
dad, love life kids etc?<br />
<br />
<b>DH, </b>My father was an
Irishman who left Tipperary town in his teens for the bright lights
of England. He and my mother made a family of six as I have an Older
brother and sister and I'm half a brace of twins! We were the Casey's
(a common name around Tip Town) but became the Horton's when my
mother re-married after Dad done a bunk when I was 4 and I gained a
half sister too!<br />
<br />
My Twin brother became my twin sister (gender
re-assignment) many years back so life is, was and always will be
varied in my world.</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
I met the mother of
my Children when we were both in out teens and we shared the next 17
years together before she eventually had enough of me. In fairness we
had little other the kids in common but you don't realise these
things when you're as young as we were perhaps? Between us we created
my greatest accomplishment yet in the shape of my three fantastic
kids (Amba 30 - Connor 27 and Jake 21) and this coming May Amba is to
make me a grandfather for the first time so as far as I'm concerned
2016 is already a GREAT year!</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
I remarried some
years back and have the perfect Wife now in as much as I haven't
clapped eyes on her in over six years! That reminds me I must divorce
her? <br />
These days I share my life with a Girl (Donna) I was in
class with every day throughout senior school but never found the
courage to talk to much. She was a pretty lil thing (still is), went
out with all the cool dudes (I never have been) and seemingly never
noticed me? We re-met 4 years ago and get on like a house on fire!!!!</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
My world is
completed by the fact that the young Lady I dated before Donna
decided she'd sooner leave with both of our cars rather than the dog
she'd arrived with and in no time at all Lucydog and I became
inseparable!<br />
<br />
She's a huge commitment and has cost me numerous
fish (Dogs are not always permitted) but we love each other
implicitly and I wouldn't be without her!<br />
<br />
<b>CCD</b>,
That is what I call a great answer Dave, thanks, somehow I just knew
you were a paddy I shall be asking a few fishy questions now
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<b>CCD</b>, So Dave, what
would be your 1st angling memory, who did you go with, where and
importantly, did you catch?</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" id="yiv9125231781yui_3_16_0_1_1458069351863_3265">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JkMkHDoNmOc0KII6J6lq0ZBPiDxKT3ebMAnRlsF5A3SbCPufXdu6djUnJiPY8PKmvtJjy6EOwP4dAR7KQSDyqrvBFWY-992YFpa7uFg_uPEogoX890hZdzsO2QIXj3jELLXL679imcE/s1600/dh1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JkMkHDoNmOc0KII6J6lq0ZBPiDxKT3ebMAnRlsF5A3SbCPufXdu6djUnJiPY8PKmvtJjy6EOwP4dAR7KQSDyqrvBFWY-992YFpa7uFg_uPEogoX890hZdzsO2QIXj3jELLXL679imcE/s320/dh1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> Dave and his Grandad on his 95th Christmas Day</i></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
<b>DH, </b> My first
Angling memory was of a family day out back in the very early 70's-
I suspect we were somewhere around Slough for that's where the
majority of my extended family lived at the time - my Grandparents
and a couple of Uncles and Aunts were present, my mother wasn't as
she was quite poorly by now. Particularly as my Father had long
since had it on his toes, it was the men folk that sort of mentored
us boys. Again it's not until much later in life that you realise
what was going on at the time but I remember it all fondly and with
great respect now too. Fishing tackle appeared and so did a little
gravel pit and a few hours were spent being educated in the fine
art. Grandad was very comfortable with fishing and apparently I was
the quietest and most softly trodden of "the twins" so I
got to fish with him and see how it was done? </div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Grandad helped
everyone set up and got them fishing first and then he and I
wandered as far away from the others as we could (all of 50 yds on
the half acre pit) and planted the gear down beside some trees. For
the next 30 minutes I learned more than was ever going to again in
any other 30 minutes of my next 30 years of fishing! Whilst my
uncles, cousin and brothers were busy catching little Perch and
Roach Grandad and I simply crept along the tree line and looked into
the water. I didn't always see what made Grandad mumble and muse but
occasionally I did and they were HUGE!</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
Little crusts of bread
were scattered amongst the branches of the trees and slowly they'd
disappear into magic swirls of water that slurped and sometimes even
re-appear too! I remember graphically having it explained to me how
if we were stealth like and patient enough that maybe just maybe we
could lead one or better still two of the fish (for when there's
more than one they compete and make mistakes) "Hansel and
gretel" like out from the branches to where we might just might
be able to try fish for them "We're just trying to trick them
David!" Pleasant banter and mild derision emanated from the
area of the Pit that the rest of the family were fishing, at our
lack of fish but Grandad smiled wryly and tried to keep me calm. </div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Periodically I'd run back and forth to the others telling them of
the monsters that lurked beneath the trees but they were more than
content catching the little Roach etc and so if I'm honest would I
have been! Eventually we began fishing ourselves and shock, gasp,
horror all we were catching too were little Perch that seemingly
swallowed the hooks and bled and even littler Roach. Every couple of
minutes though Grandad would wander off down to the other end of the
trees and feed a little more bread in. All too quickly an Auntie
appeared and told us that time was almost up and that Nan (the
matriarch) was thinking about heading home soon. His hand forced
Grandad stood up and declared that it was now or never and promptly
bit the line above his float before tying on a really BIG hook! I
had to hang back incase I spooked them but off he went to the other
end of the trees and within seconds he was waving frantically and
calling me over! The whole family seemed to appear just in time to
hear Grandads line snap and see the water calm and I got to watch
the ever calm head of the family throw the rod down in disgust and
start cussing! I was to run the whole event through my head a
million times over the next few years and without doubt the Angler
in my was born that very day!
</div>
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<b>CDD,</b> So the young
Horton is off and running down the angling path, over the next few
years, which way did this path twist and turn regarding species and
the places you fished etc and what was your 1st experience with
pike?<br />
<br />
<b>DH, </b> Throughout my junior School years I
flirted with fishing and most of it was carried out in the company of
my bestie, a boy by the name of Nigel Palmer. Initially we caught
mostly Perch and it was whilst doing that that I learned the value of
a livebait! That's a little misleading actually for it was worms that
were used to catch the Perch but we soon learned that the more
vigorous they were then the thus the more productive. Nigel and I
were sent to different senior schools and slowly lost contact but not
before we spread our wings a little further and found ourselves at a
Dobbs Weir on the River Lea in Herts. Here we were to witness lots of
Pike being caught and after watching "The Big Boys" and
picking their brains we went away and armed ourselves with heavier
line, shop bought snap tackles and some sprats. My first Pike though
fell to a Live Gudgeon cadged from a fellow angler on our maiden trip
Piking to Dobbs Weir! I was ecstatic and eager to show the world just
how clever I was, so we promptly dispatched it with a hefty glass
lemonade bottle and I rode the 10 miles home with it strapped to the
handle bars of my push bike! Somewhat reminiscent of our EE brothers
eh?</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
Having drifted apart
from Nigel completely and having hooked up with other kids I
continued to flirt with Fishing and Piking in particular but mostly
with spinners and caught quite a few too! BY the time I was in my
late teens my best Pike was still very modest in size and though not
weighed I'd hazard a guess at 8lbs? When I was about 18 I witnessed a
fish of 18lbs (the captor called it 20 but it never was) get caught
at Dobbs Weir again and it had such an impact on me that I set about
trying to catch such a fish myself and bloody blimey if I didn't
catch the exact same specimen on my first trip a week later!
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdBXL2o2bp3dS4tbZkUVeglwU-YolxNITegVgZNJ_EGOat7kEY3xOAkTIkuv0OGIoBapwi9uxoqtR-A3KuzLH1t7sqUfuYZQDhRNF3uZw4CLNRklxTgS5A5PF0a7zuD0-YGC9H1YRjako/s1600/dh3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdBXL2o2bp3dS4tbZkUVeglwU-YolxNITegVgZNJ_EGOat7kEY3xOAkTIkuv0OGIoBapwi9uxoqtR-A3KuzLH1t7sqUfuYZQDhRNF3uZw4CLNRklxTgS5A5PF0a7zuD0-YGC9H1YRjako/s320/dh3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I learned so much from that
first very intentional capture and above all I found confidence in my
ability to catch Pike - From that day onwards I've never looked back!
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<b>CCD</b>, I love that
image of you cycling along with a pike strapped to the handle bars
but how attitudes have changed eh! <br />
So I get the
impression that from that 18 lber you became inspired to catch more
pike and bigger pike and other than catching bait, you all but
exclusively fished for them. When your 1st 20 plusser came,am I right
in thinking it actually weighed over 30?<br />
<br />
<b>DH, </b> Yes
and no Alan. The "Yes's". I became inspired to to catch
more and BIGGER Pike and yes I almost exclusively fished for them and
that remained the case until fairly recent times. My recent flirting
with other species has been born out of the fact that I've struck up
a friendship with Keith Kracknell (KC) and he's without doubt one of
the country's great all rounders and very inspiring to be around! In
order to spend a bit more time in his company I've had to forsake a
few Piking sessions here and there but have had my eyes opened to the
bounty of great alternative fishing I've been missing out on. We both
love our Piking and there ain't no way we're sharing runs at that but
with everything else we're both pretty laid back and happy to share
just about everything. The fact is that when KC and I go fishing
together, special things happen. By way of example, our first ever
session saw me catch the lake record and my first ever Catfish
(courtesy of KC) at 61lbs and our most recent trip out saw him land
his PB Perch of 4lbs 11oz, that I was delighted to be able to put him
on to! There have been many many other happenings too (Hmmm I think
I've just given birth to a future article for the Pool with that as
the title?)! <br />
The No was the fact that my First 20 was in fact
20lbs 6oz
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLjNChy9Uc4nkLeeuNoWMCwgmp2PeE54sUnYeo9OMwkuLSS9l0HMfAE0LAwrb-qPPX1pb3E_yj-WH_I8GIzaPS99lriMm-z9aaGk9C5rmEFV-MiGnqOg-RcL0cPoPztHyJUiXtRODY04/s1600/854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLjNChy9Uc4nkLeeuNoWMCwgmp2PeE54sUnYeo9OMwkuLSS9l0HMfAE0LAwrb-qPPX1pb3E_yj-WH_I8GIzaPS99lriMm-z9aaGk9C5rmEFV-MiGnqOg-RcL0cPoPztHyJUiXtRODY04/s320/854.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
but my second one weighed
32lbs 4oz </div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinadaFNW-L5O6XPtmNoipb80Rvhd1lB_4uGAMkasFFef3e1E0GCX2Roupf0hEpnkQf06VpEcuvOphZX942fcuSJB4BokfalF-UV5JjfvgmKguAs3BS7P5ZEmnH6XEghYhunDjg97PF4Ho/s1600/dh30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinadaFNW-L5O6XPtmNoipb80Rvhd1lB_4uGAMkasFFef3e1E0GCX2Roupf0hEpnkQf06VpEcuvOphZX942fcuSJB4BokfalF-UV5JjfvgmKguAs3BS7P5ZEmnH6XEghYhunDjg97PF4Ho/s320/dh30.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
and simply illustrated to me
that they are far from mythical creatures and certainly no more
difficult to catch than say a 20 pounder (both of which require a
different mind set to catching Jacks IMHO) but there are of course
far far fewer of them about! The capture of that first 30 and it's
profound effect on me saw me decide to specifically target fish of
that stamp on a frequent basis. That said I learned somewhere along
the way that it can be soul destroying and also result in very few
fish caught (I had just a dozen or so runs one winter but 4 of them
came from 30's) so these days I punctuate my BIG fish fishing with
some easy fishing where I'll get runs and thus remain relatively
sane?</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
<b>CCD</b>, Now we can
move onto what makes a angler become a "notable one" like
yourself.<br />
Not allowing for ETs two 40s, I believe I am right in
saying that you have caught more 30lb pike than any other UK angler,
30 I believe, now forgetting about techniques and baits etc because
many reading this will have a good understanding of all that, but as
we know that putting enough time on the right waters is the key to
angling success. So can you try to explain how you have consistently
managed to choose the right waters and how you found the dedication,
year in, year out to put the time in. Regarding the right water, what
sort of water, ticks all the Hortons boxes?<br />
<br />
<b>DH, </b>
Firstly, there's no "Not allowing for ET's 40's" or indeed
his number of upper 30's too for his stats are phenomenal (I do enjoy
reminding him of one negative stat though and that's that he's a
decade older than me)! The fact is, you can only catch what is
available and for the most part fish of that stamp are generally few
and far between.</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
<br />
It's possible
there's someone out there caught more than ET and thus obviously
myself but they're very good at keeping stum if that's the case?
<br />
Thirty pounders though are without doubt realistic targets and
throughout the length and breadth of this country fish of that size
get caught week in week out! I think I'm living proof that if you're
driven enough that a working class lad with all the trappings of
family life and a basic career etc can realistically hope to catch
fish of that stamp should he wish to? The actual catching BIG Pike is
I think relatively easy Alan - finding waters with them is not! Sure
we have the obvious ones like Chew but unless you're one of the
chosen few or loaded, getting access there is no mean feat? What
we're left with then is either finding a water capable of producing
one all of your own (I've only managed that once in 30 years) or more
likely fishing somewhere that has a little history, recent or
otherwise. Chasing specific fish is not everyones cup of tea (it's
not my favoured option either) but I've done it and it is achievable.
I've caught several fish that had popped up in the Angling press,
that I'd been shown in pics or had perhaps even surprisingly turned
up in fish surveys etc. I've specifically targeted them and almost
without exception I've caught them too if I've made a concerted
effort to do so!
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
<br />
I do chuckle
sometimes when I hear terms like "circus" or when I see one
angler deriding another for fishing a specific place or catching a
particular fish and then offering themselves up as some paragon of
virtue for fishing, for example, the great Lake's, a mighty lough or
loch, the extensive Drains system, perhaps the Broads or even a large
river etc for example? Rarely are they first to have done so, so are
they not themselves simply following up some bit of information or
snippet and jumping on someone elses all beit historic band wagon?
The actual fact is that many many of us are actually fishing for the
self same very few BIG fish if indeed that's what tickles our
fancy?<br />
Whilst I'll not try to refute your assertion "we
know that putting enough time on the right waters is the key to
angling success". I will offer the suggestion that choosing the
right time to do so is far more effective! I've just done a very
quick bit of mental arithmetic and can hand on heart tell you that
five of the thirty pound fish I've caught have been landed within my
first three attempts at catching them! Don't get me wrong I've had
long campaigns too, particularly where for one reason or another I
can't get at the fish as and when I would want to and my Irish thirty
is a case in point in a much as it took in excess of 5 years for me
to finally catch it when I specifically fished the water it lived in!</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
<br />
My dedication and
inclination to go wavers dramatically and from time to time (for one
reason or another) I've had none and thus taken full winters out to
regroup as such. Where once I considered this a bad thing, these days
I specifically choose to do it in order that I may fish more
effectively when the inclination finally rears it's head again. To
try keep it all fresh and interesting I set myself little targets -
I'm particularly proud of having caught 20's from a dozen different
rivers and 30's from the same number of different venues too. A few
winters back I set out to catch 20's from all the home nations in one
winter (and did it) and this winter I'm hoping still to catch a 20
plusser from my Kayak (MISSION ACCOMPLISHED NOW) !</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0.5cm;">
<br />
"Regarding the
right water, what sort of water, ticks all the Hortons boxes?"<br />
I
enjoy River Piking above all else Alan (and have a right River result
this winter too) but I'm genuinely happy fishing anywhere and I do
mean anywhere as long as I suspect it holds a thirty pounder. That's
not to say I don't fish waters that don't hold them for often I
specifically make a point of doing just that for above all else I
just love catching Pike!</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<b>CCD</b>, Ok I'll let
Eddie keep his 40s<br />
The future, I think if you haven't already,
as I know you like to keep a little bit back, caught your 30th 30,
I'm sure its all but a done deal, even 40 30s looks likely to one day
be on the cards but I wonder how much importance you place on fishing
for, and catching a 40?<br />
With all the pressure modern angling is
under,the ones that make for some of the most repeated threads on the
pit, you know, EEs, cormorants and otters etc how optimistic are you
for the future of British angling, and in particular specimen
angling?<br />
<br />
<b>DH, </b> Hahaha I do hold a little back Alan
and for good reason. Invariably telling even your closest friends
what you've caught and or where can see the fish come under greater
pressure. Some recent events have just reinforced my thoughts
on this matter!</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
I have my own little
rule of thumb regarding recaptures in as much as I'm perfectly happy
to set out to catch a specific fish by design twice but there are
others who will do so repeatedly (and of course there may be some who
would not wish to catch a fish even twice) so by NOT sharing captures
we are effectively protecting the fish and of course our own future
fishing!
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
I don't think I'm
being over ambitious in thinking it likely that I'll at least match
ET for numbers of Pike over 30 Pounds one day (if not the 40's or BIG
30's)especially when you consider he has had a decade more at it than
I have! If I'm honest though (and I heart on sleeve am at times) I'd
really like to catch at least one more than Eddie. There's not much
in this world that I'm any good at but Piking is something I can lay
that claim to so I don't mind admitting that it would tickle me if
one day it were accepted that I'd caught the most 30 pound Pike.</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
I do still dream of a
40 Pound Pike BUT I'm a realist and recognise that opportunities to
catch one are few and far between and it would be difficult to
specifically target one? Yes I know there's that gorgeous one in
Yorkshire that Wyne Coole has caught twice but fishing for it under
the circumstances I'd have had to was not something that appealed to
me. I am not under any circumstances knocking anyone who has though
either!</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
I'm fairly optimistic
about Piking actually - Chew aside there are still good numbers of 30
pound fish to be found the length (Scotland seems to be up and
coming) and breadth (the fens are holding their own) of this country
and with so much focus on Chew itself some of them are getting a
little overlooked in my opinion? It's a travesty what has happened on
the Broads in recent times with Salt incursions and Prymnesium not to
mention the Otters but even there there will be opportunities for the
man prepared to put in the hours and leg work? That the EE's are an
issue is too obvious to
ignore and I in no way
condone them taking fish for the pot.</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BYoE6LUNSLH4yAueXHM5WCN5GhGxFl_JXueOi32Y6l2gNWR2IW0M-5T4ilOBitlsTcmC7JvFIMIGqMb8QOpnCkXs3_xcIaut33Jpkuavzy6YzEomVp-YH1eu_I72ZjejOkWjZ_PVhog/s1600/dh2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BYoE6LUNSLH4yAueXHM5WCN5GhGxFl_JXueOi32Y6l2gNWR2IW0M-5T4ilOBitlsTcmC7JvFIMIGqMb8QOpnCkXs3_xcIaut33Jpkuavzy6YzEomVp-YH1eu_I72ZjejOkWjZ_PVhog/s320/dh2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Daves favorite, a river thirty</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I will however, try to offer a
silver lining to that particular cloud by suggesting that generally,
in the main, their techniques are most effective with the smaller of
our Pike and that the removal of them, whist potentially having dire
long term effects, may be part of the reason that some of the waters
that the EE's frequent are seemingly producing more BIG Pike at
present than they have done for quite some time? <br />
Going off at a
tangent here but one positive by product of having caught quite as
many BIG Pike as I have is rarely do I feel any pressure to do so
again and as such I'm free to play long shot's and explore
opportunities that I might not do if I were driven merely by the
pursuit of the next one?<br />
Piking and specimen hunting in general
is a funny old game but above all else I've come to learn that there
really are very few outstanding anglers. Instead what is very obvious
to me and has been for decades but somehow eludes some others is that
any fisherman is only as good as his fishing! So any Piker who is
consistently catching more than average is likely very competent at
Piking but has access to above average fishing - simple as!
</div>
<div lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
Piscatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05827932249387859088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-63363785128423246042015-07-14T12:13:00.000+01:002015-07-14T12:13:19.753+01:00Full Circle<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Quite why I came top of the poll to write the 100th post for The Pike Pool is a bit of a mystery as I don't do anywhere near as much piking as most Pikers Pit members do these days. Which is as good a reason to make it a bit of a look back over the ups and downs of 30 odd years of piking. Hopefully without the rose tinted spectacles!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgloxdW5qsyMRILrxsePRpv2lLvHLNxRMzRz9LiWkay0yhpKmkTc8fxBMq7iWmVO1__P79UzURIvlIDtaqccxAM4lv4r8pwtQa9jbZCb1zsYKRt-xUMKfbZgTr0eCD0-xorobsp0f4B_wlH/s1600/DSC_4226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgloxdW5qsyMRILrxsePRpv2lLvHLNxRMzRz9LiWkay0yhpKmkTc8fxBMq7iWmVO1__P79UzURIvlIDtaqccxAM4lv4r8pwtQa9jbZCb1zsYKRt-xUMKfbZgTr0eCD0-xorobsp0f4B_wlH/s640/DSC_4226.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In some respects my attitude to piking is exactly the same now as it was when I started piking in earnest back in 1982. I just want to catch pike, first and foremost, and if I can manage to land a few doubles each season I'm a happy chappy. I've never had any ambitions to catch more or bigger pike than anyone else (which is just as well given the piking partners I've had over the years...). In the early days I obviously wanted to increase my personal best pike, but the thought of catching a thirty was nowhere in my head. Such fish were very thin on the ground and unheard of from local waters. Even a twenty was extremely unlikely from anywhere within ten miles of home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's not to say that pictures of thirty pound pike weren't motivating. Photos of Peter Hancock's record and Clive Loveland's 39 are still iconic in my eyes. Perhaps even more motivating, because a more recent capture (<i>and in colour in the Abu Tight Lines catalogue</i>) was the fish Slim Baxter caught from Lomond. There was another photo that graced the cover of Coarse Angler stuck in my mind, not least because I actually knew the angler in question - Rob Forshaw's Lomond 31.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even so a thirty was beyond most local piker's dreams because catching one involved a lot of travelling to even be in with a chance of fishing a water containing them. Twenties weren't much more of a hope. All the local pikers I knew who had caught a twenty had them from either Scotland or the Fens. For a bloke with just a push bike and occasional lifts to go fishing the best I could hope for was to catch the biggest pike in the waters I had access to. The drains hadn't produced a 20 in recent years, and by all accounts doubles were hard to come by on the canal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg0MRDKI0u4RKrRZQL4PIPfDmy8K_tzaQLWKdoJHxBfkHOXVBN_cAkm_J7wyjD5fMt9PuZaYeXuEmLtcrQcp-L1IXl0M6lBM1C7n1pGMOlY3cwOrEEdg0nW5rVUGgce06UzrlZQhyXZr26/s1600/icons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg0MRDKI0u4RKrRZQL4PIPfDmy8K_tzaQLWKdoJHxBfkHOXVBN_cAkm_J7wyjD5fMt9PuZaYeXuEmLtcrQcp-L1IXl0M6lBM1C7n1pGMOlY3cwOrEEdg0nW5rVUGgce06UzrlZQhyXZr26/s640/icons.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Icons</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite the low ceiling weights for pike on these waters a pike is a pike and I managed to learn a fair bit that I have put to use on 'better' waters since. One thing that you do learn is to work for your fish. If you start piking (or fishing for any species for that matter) on a prolific water with a high average size of fish you can become complacent and imagine that all you have to do anywhere is rock up and chuck the baits out. It's one reason travelling anglers can outfish the locals when a water gets known about. They are used to trying a little bit harder.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It didn't take long before I started travelling for my piking when I teamed up with Pete Hesketh. He'd' fished a loch on the off chance when he was on holiday and caught doubles without really trying. As an example of the quality of our local fishing Pete fished an entire season (June to March) for something like ninety pike, ten of them being doubles. That included early sessions before work as well as weekends. It's grim up north.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you start fishing further afield you begin to bump into pikers from other parts of the country. Sometimes you hit it off with them and they give you tip-offs about waters they fish or have fished. After having a few red letter days, by our standards, in Scotland catching more than one double in a day, and me catching my first twenty - which wasn't what we were targeting - we moved on to one of those waters we'd been told about for the winter. The fishing was slower, but we kept on catching doubles. This time Pete got a twenty. We were becoming accustomed to this sort of fishing as the new norm for us. Instead of hoping for a double every time we fished we were expecting them. Our hopes were now of twenties.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More waters came to our attention and we found ourselves on that grapevine we'd heard so much about. So began the years of travelling. Early starts, long drives, weekend sessions and longer bivvying up or sleeping in cars and vans. Doubles were reasonably relatively plentiful, but twenties were still the exception. I never was lucky. In the years Pete and I fished together we both caught the same number of pike over nineteen pounds. Pete caught twice as many twenties as me though. The netting skills I learned in those years came in handy when I started fishing with a certain Yorkshire Pudding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Esthwaite got widely known about it was pretty much out of my league as far as price went. I had to listen to my mates talking about all the twenties they were catching. That is the biggest downside to trout water piking. The expense limits who can have a crack at the fish. Just as anywhere, the more time you put in the more you will catch and, therefore, the better your chances of a monster. Esthwaite was the first water I knew of, that was reasonably local, to produce numbers of thirties.<span style="color: red;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite being able to afford only an occasional session I still fished Essy hoping for a twenty. My PB was slowly creeping upwards, literally by the ounce, after catching my Scottish 22 pounder. I managed enough high doubles to keep me satisfied. If you're catching fifteen-plussers on a regular basis where a twenty is a big fish you're doing all it takes to catch twenties. All I needed was a bit of luck. That bit of luck came along when Geoff Parkinson anchored up where I wanted to troll my livebaits forcing me out from the bank and the right hand float sank from sight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Catching what was at the time one of the top fifty pike of all time (<i>although that was the year the List Master General didn't publish the top 50 list...</i>) was a strange thing to happen. I never thought I'd catch a 30. I never really hoped to catch one. But I had. For some reason after that fish twenties started to fall to my rods more frequently than nineteens. I wonder if the weight of the big one stretched the spring in my scales?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAMUd009lXAi9qWGI1oPE5-q3y6NghjkWDQtNuDOJHHn4P2PhE3DHIcBqguX9MxBQAitOAv81XK9zJ78XNhRnxqrBRO82CLhbLSfDnmgI5tfwagOFlq282LFEjeYltlfKMRrudMv_5PlD/s1600/750_2359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAMUd009lXAi9qWGI1oPE5-q3y6NghjkWDQtNuDOJHHn4P2PhE3DHIcBqguX9MxBQAitOAv81XK9zJ78XNhRnxqrBRO82CLhbLSfDnmgI5tfwagOFlq282LFEjeYltlfKMRrudMv_5PlD/s640/750_2359.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A scattering of memories</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once more chance encounters lead to a change of fishing partner and pastures new. Nige Grassby invited me to fish with him and a whole new experience was had. Numbers of doubles in a day, and all falling for lures. That sort of fishing can spoil you for the kind of piking to be had back home. As this lure fishing coincided with making more contacts and starting to travel to more southerly trout waters so the fishing, and expectations, changed. When the 'lure boom' hit the trout waters the fishing was remarkable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Previous trout water sessions with deadbaits and 'old school' lures had been more like playing the lottery than fishing. You hoped something would be stupid enough to take your bait or lure, but didn't really believe anything would. The expectation was to blank, although Llandegfedd herrings made a difference for some. Unfortunately my herrings were the other sort. Now I felt like I was fishing for twenties. I caught a few too. I even managed one on a mackerel! This was when my netting skills proved invaluable and in one season I slipped the net under four thirties for Mr Grassby. It was almost like we were expecting to catch thirties.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing lasts for ever in the piking world and it didn't take long before the edge some of us had with the lures and techniques we were using wore off. Victims of our own success, I suppose, as lure tactics got publicised and the lures became widely available. It was as much a case of getting on the spots before anyone else if you wanted to keep the catch rates up. Menteith was a bit different. You still needed to be on the spots, but the pike would take deadbaits. Unusual for trout water pike. After all those years of chucking lures all day sitting watching a couple of floats and expecting to catch made a pleasant change. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nonetheless, around 2004 I was starting to get tired of all the travelling. Trout water fishing was getting more competitive as more and more people knew where 'the spots' were and had the means to make the most of them. Other waters I was fishing were going off the boil. Angling pressure had taken its toll on some, as had aquatic predators and possibly humans with a taste for fish. After all those years I couldn't face fishing locally on waters where you either had to face a lengthy run of blanks before a fish turned up (either a jack or a twenty on one water), or the prospect was a load of jacks with an occasional double. That was when I turned to barbel after the tench had spawned. It's odd, but when I fish for other species I always set out with a target in mind, but with pike I never did. Once my PBs had been upped to a level where they were going to be harder to beat I started to think of pike again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the Autumn of 2011 I headed back to the local drains. Something had changed. When I first fished them deadbaits were a waste of time. If you wanted consistent sport you needed livebaits. So that was how I started out - with two lives and a dead. Strangely the deadbait produced more pike and a better stamp too. The majority of modern pikers use deads as their first choice. and I have a feeling that the intervening years the pike had become more accustomed to finding discarded deadbaits </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmC1eUI8DdLo5QzL2311vg0-merznLfC3V1TCgFu23JbxX0YPg2doxm5MFgsp28Vg83d4XBbndNuF4fua5UqkhgI3yLf7Z1oXQth7jbw5ttENtFYqPTlh7YcfMKqF6sCuhEzOEZJp5aCg/s1600/DJL_3861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmC1eUI8DdLo5QzL2311vg0-merznLfC3V1TCgFu23JbxX0YPg2doxm5MFgsp28Vg83d4XBbndNuF4fua5UqkhgI3yLf7Z1oXQth7jbw5ttENtFYqPTlh7YcfMKqF6sCuhEzOEZJp5aCg/s640/DJL_3861.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back where I started</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, something else had changed. My approach. I always used to find that sitting it out in one spot and waiting for the pike to move past worked best. After becoming mobile in my barbel fishing I started moving about when piking. Now it was paying off. Sometimes I'd leapfrog, sometimes I'd pack up and move hundreds of yards. Often a move would result in a pike. I was also fishing short sessions rather than dawn to dusk jobs, and still catching enough to keep me interested.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My next move was to a return to a stillwater that never used to produce much over ten pounds. I knew the pike would take deads on there so that was easy. I was surprised to find that the pike had got bigger. The average jack was bigger, and there were twenties to be caught. Not by me, but a couple of mid doubles were nice enough.This was sit and wait all-day stuff though. Something I find increasingly tedious when not much action occurs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This water involved a bit of a drive and by now I was really fed up of early starts - which this place needed to make sure of getting a decent swim, so it was a lucky meeting that saw me joining a water where the pike, much to my surprise, feed late in the day. In all my time I had never found many pike waters where the evening feeding spell could be relied on. One or two fish would get caught at last knockings but not enough of them to make afternoon sessions worthwhile. Only the canal and one drain ever did me any pikey favours after lunch in the winter.You can't beat fishing between lunch and tea during the winter without the need to make any pack-up and just a small flask of tea to keep the cold out. Keeping moving can see two or three fish banked in that time. It's great fun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's where my piking is again. I get the rods out when I feel like a piking fix, fishing
locally, expecting to catch something every time I fish, hoping for a
double or two and not worrying about twenties. If I get
fed up I go home rather than stick at it until the death. I'm enjoying
piking in a simple way just like when I started out. No targets beyond saving a blank, no pressure, no lists. Fishing is supposed to be fun, and I'm enjoying it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think my spring balance has rusted up though. It's sticking at nineteen pounds again. But these days I couldn't care less! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmHtIV2llrYdfV6eIF2peL_0sgp0I9oiGxAoL794uCS8A1iXt5a7jKAAiuPnthzhOSATPTLW-hqyNu3FhltJ0-YRWIzgcK7uC0I1xv1BJLe-hH_4DkwMvE5Qz1SUAjonmrgx0nj0I3mZp/s1600/DSC_2124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmHtIV2llrYdfV6eIF2peL_0sgp0I9oiGxAoL794uCS8A1iXt5a7jKAAiuPnthzhOSATPTLW-hqyNu3FhltJ0-YRWIzgcK7uC0I1xv1BJLe-hH_4DkwMvE5Qz1SUAjonmrgx0nj0I3mZp/s640/DSC_2124.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dave Lumb</span>Dave Lumbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185234642586845923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-70732377318183180602015-03-30T10:59:00.002+01:002015-03-30T10:59:21.599+01:00My Uncles Forty<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlwujV4ocztFy2RiFe2yXhyhEt1iQmVqqQ53sTTnWANmf-c4xJJkHjtdaI7wp3lvSTrvGi4G_hI1GDTjDUmfuHjXjF_vz3D6rRcwMubY59DHPKEMg3fpwqsLUFf3cvZhvyhp5fV6908o/s1600/Chew+Record+44-06+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlwujV4ocztFy2RiFe2yXhyhEt1iQmVqqQ53sTTnWANmf-c4xJJkHjtdaI7wp3lvSTrvGi4G_hI1GDTjDUmfuHjXjF_vz3D6rRcwMubY59DHPKEMg3fpwqsLUFf3cvZhvyhp5fV6908o/s1600/Chew+Record+44-06+(2).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #1f497d;"font-family: inherit;">Many stories litter the annuals of
pike fishing history that assist in dispelling the myth that lightening does
not strike twice in the same place! This is another such story, which exhibits
such elements of luck and coincidence as to make it almost unbelievable for
some! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">You may recall, back in February
2014, I was the fortunate captor of the current Chew Valley record pike. An
incredible fish, weighing 44lb 6oz. The sort of fish that even seems frankly
unrealistic when one allows their mind to explore their piking dreams; that
99.99% of pike anglers never have the privilege to see in their angling
lifetime. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But, how about two of these beasts of
myth and legend? According to Neville Fickling’s notable pike anglers list,
only Eddie Turner and Nige Williams have actually caught two 40lb+ pike
themselves, but how many angling duos have shared each other’s captures of
40lb+ pike?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My uncle, Mike Heyes and I have been
fishing together since I was eight years old (I</span>’m now twenty six). Mike had only previously
dabbled with angling, tagging along on the odd trip with his elder brother,
Phil Heyes, who was quite a successful match angler throughout the 80s, even by
national standards, but Mike had never really taken to the sport. It is fair to
say that even now, Mike doesn’t take his fishing too seriously. He isn’t
motivated by catching big fish and is at his happiest fishing a simple waggler
setup on a local commercial carp pool. Unfortunately for Mike, I do the driving
and the car generally finds its way to waters where there is a chance of
something special or where the surroundings and the environment make it a
pleasure just to be there! Mike has always been happy to just go with the flow
and in his advancing years (he will be sixty in February) he has realised there is
more to fishing than simply catching fish and his desire to experience more
waters throughout our small island has increased tenfold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I started fishing at Chew Valley in
2013 with a friend of mine, Kristian Schofield. Kristian is a very motivated
and dedicated piker and it was him who suggested we give Chew a try and endured
the constant engaged tone for hours that first year. He managed to get some
tickets and very kindly invited me along. I spent 8 days pike fishing on Chew
Valley with Kristian that year and was rewarded with my first twenty and a few
jacks. It’s fair to say, Chew hasn’t been kind to Kristian, but the less said
about that the better, eh pal! This was enough for Mike to show an interest in
fishing Chew and it was decided that we would both try for tickets in 2014 with
Mike and I fishing together and Kristian fishing with another of his friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On the first of our days for the 2014
trials, I caught my 40lb+ pike and Mike was there to do the netting and assist
with the weighing and photogr</span>aphy. This was an incredible experience and it was
clear from the conversations that followed, that it had inspired Mike and
stirred the suppressed piker within! No longer the laid back take it or leave
it attitude. The laissez fare “I’m just here for the e<span style="font-family: inherit;">xperience” comments had
disappeared and it was clearly evident that he wanted one for himself! I
reassured Mike that what had happened that day, would never happen again. We
had had our full quota of Chew Valley fortune and to even contemplate a
re-occurrence was so wholly unrealistic as to be almost laughable to even
suggest! Did he not know anything about piking history, had he not read the
books, the list, listened to the stories and appreciated the rarity and
significance of such fish! We needn’t bother upgrading our 40lb Avon Scales, so
confident was I that a fish in excess of those proportions would never find its
way into our landing net again. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Recounting this I am reminded of how
dismissive I was of Mike’s new found enthusiasm and ambition, given my “greater
experience” and knowledge. I usually don’t like being proven wrong, but I
could not think of a better way to be put in my place! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Our next session on Chew was 22<sup>nd</sup>
and 23d October 2014. It had been a long wait, given the level of excitement we
were experiencing about returning to the scene of our greatest angling achievement.
Not much had changed, our fishing plans were the same as before, but there was
a distinct air of confidence and a very relaxed feeling in the car that night
as we travelled down the M6. We hadn’t bothered to attempt to find out about
any recent captures of big fish or any “going areas”, we didn’t care what
others were doing. Doing our own thing and using our initiative had served us
well previously and we were going to stick with it. There were no conversations
required, except to express our anticipation for the days ahead and to prevent
me from re-arranging the central reservation, so it was a quick and quiet
journey. The weather was unseasonably warm and we wanted to head to an area
that gave access to both shallow and deeper water so that we could cover our
bases and one that was unlikely to result in a battle for a swim or competing
for the fish in that area with others. I had a couple of areas in mind, so when
we arrived in the car park for Wick Green Point at 04:30 to find (inevitably
some might say) 3 vehicles already parked up, it was off to our other chosen
spot at Nunnery Point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We turned off the road at 04:45 and
drove down to the first lay by to have a look around the area in Herons Green
Bay. The water level was way down, which although not a complete surprise did
change things slightly as this meant that the spit on the end of Nunnery point
might be exposed providing a nice beach like swim with access to the deeper
water out towards Wick and also the shallower water to the left of the swim
over towards Denny Island. Back in the car to the car park at the end of the
road and a quick walk to the end of Nunnery Point revealed this to be the case
and with no other anglers around, it was an easy decision to make this our home
for the day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A short but very warm and sweaty walk
(the thermometer in the car was showing a temperature of 14 Celsius at 05:00!)
with only the necessary equipment and we were setting up. The usual double act
ensued, with Mike setting up the shelter and chairs and I went about putting
the rests in and the rods together. I offered Mike the choice of rods and he
selected the right hand side of the swim. Such a simple question and one which
doesn’t ever quite register as being particularly significant, but significant
it proved to be. All four rods were rigged up with a simple running ledger rig,
4oz lead and a pair of size 2 trebles, standard fair when fishing for big pike
with relatively large dead baits on big waters. The first rod was baited with a
mackerel tail and was lobbed out about 40yrds towards Wick Green Point in what
we believed to be around 10’ of water. The other three rods followed suit
spread from right to left into open water and we sat back to take in the very
pleasant morning. Just on first light a trout angler waded around onto the end
of the point to our left but out of view. The kettle went on and an early
breakfast of porridge was washed down with a nice cup of tea. What a morning,
an absolute pleasure to be outside, warm and still, with the sun rising like
the anticipation within us. A cacophony of bird life interspersed by the
metronomic whoosh of fly line providing the backing track to another wonderful
day by the water and with a tangible sense of something to come, there was
nowhere else to be at that moment. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A single boat hurriedly passed
through into Herons Green Bay at just on 08:30 and no sooner had they been
obscured from our view by the stones jutting out into the water the right hand
alarm burst into life!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Calmness remained. We’ve been here
before. Just as I set off towards the rod the realisation that this was not my
moment, struck me and I stopped dead. Calling Mike forward with line still
peeling from the spool and the alarm seemingly responding to the bird life, he
arose from his chair and approached the rod with confidence. I have an
irritating inability to stifle the control freak in me and irrespective of my
relative youth, I began to coach Mike through the process. Mike has only caught
a handful of pike and fishing with open bail arms and rear drop offs is
relatively alien to him, so it was well received. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He picked the rod from the rests and
under instruction, flicked over the bail arm, wound down tight and lifted
steadily into the fish. Line was taken under little tension and the word was
given to tighten that drag down and bend into the fish to avoid the hooks
slipping. Very quickly a better indication of what was attached was given as
the 2.75lb TC rod took on a much more alarming battle curve and line was still
taken from the reel. The fish kitted left towards the other lines and Mike
responded by lowering the rod to the right and applying equal side strain. I
reacted quickly and dropped the middle rods onto the ground with slack lines
and urged Mike to keep the line under tension and the rod up high. The fish
then broke the surface around 20yrds out and a stalemate was reached. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I took the net and waded out as far
as my wellies would allow and asked Mike to walk slowly backwards with the
spool clamped. “It looks a good double”, “Take it easy, nearly there”, “Bloody
Hell it’s definitely a thirty!” as she slides into the waiting net without
concern. It was a one way conversation, speech wasn’t possible at this stage
for Mike as he focused all of his attention on ensuring that fish made it
safely into the net, no doubt with memories of the issues he had netting my
fish earlier in the year very prominent in his mind!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d;"font-family: inherit;">I stood with the fish in the net in
the margin while Mike removed the rod and returned the other rods to their
rests. I knelt down and unclipped the lead and trace, revealing the true frame
of the fish for the first time. It was another mammoth clearly and I was fully
aware at this stage of what had happened, but I wanted to retain the composure
that surrounded us and simply asked Mike to prepare the mat, scales and camera
up near the trees at the back of the swim and kneel down behind it. I removed
the arms of the net from the spreader block and rolled them up in the mesh. I
hoisted the fish from the water and carried it quickly over to the mat, at
which time I noticed that the hooks had transferred themselves into the mesh of
the net and were no longer in the fish. The scales had already been adjusted
for the wet net, so she was weighed immediately with no need for unhooking.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A<span style="font-family: inherit;"> large slice of humble pie was
served up to me at this stage as the needle on the Avon scales went round once,
twice, three times, four…. Oops!</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The needle swung past the 40lb mark
and absent mindedly I stated that the fish had bottomed the scales when it
reached 40lb 04oz, as had happened with my fish in February. The disappointment
and frustration on Mike’s face was as clear as the joy had been seconds
earlier. This was obviously a very big fish, but we were faced with the
possibility of never knowing just how big. The fish was returned to the water
in the net and a quick discussion was had regarding our options. There were
none. There were no other anglers about and the best option for the fish was to
take a few quick snaps and slip her back. Mike was adamant that any thought of
retaining the fish while waiting for adequate scales was dismissed and he was
right of course, the fish’s welfare was the priority and we would have to live
with the “what might have been”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Mike slipped on his Musky Armour
gloves in preparation for holding the fish for the camera. Mike doesn’t wear
gloves for handling pike due to a lack of confidence or a fear of the fish, but
in order to protect an injury incurred as a result of a lawn mower accident,
that actually caused the loss of the tip of his middle finger on his right
hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A few very quick snaps were taken and
Mike insisted that the fish were returned to the water irrespective of the
quality of the photos taken. He had difficulty, due to the sheer size of the
fish, holding and presenting it well for the camera, but that didn’t matter. He
had caught it, shared a few precious moments in its presence, admiring its
mighty spotted flank and feeling her bulk in his arms. The experience was
enough.</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbDorRXrPf8O9xWACCk6_WvGnXP81pyjGExVIwoj7zhSeHqhHrMtjT4UWAYPjdXEj6U7EKn-Mb2OiadT-KXbu6TjcYPZ7i6FJ72jGQhJa4PgwSdu0kDmEWb8C_OXibD1RKkZ3Ef-BfZI/s1600/WP_20141023_08_42_13_Pro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbDorRXrPf8O9xWACCk6_WvGnXP81pyjGExVIwoj7zhSeHqhHrMtjT4UWAYPjdXEj6U7EKn-Mb2OiadT-KXbu6TjcYPZ7i6FJ72jGQhJa4PgwSdu0kDmEWb8C_OXibD1RKkZ3Ef-BfZI/s1600/WP_20141023_08_42_13_Pro.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The fish was returned to the water in
the mat and Mike fired off a few release shots. As I cradled her in the margin
I held onto that thickset tail wrist and with an effortless flick she filled my
right boot with water and cruised away like a U-boat leaving port.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMqjSoBKhFYnB2ejcmTJvyThZXUIf-DG0M58_egfZY_tmB2eoNQ69q8crz4D0JRa11TYqDsZr87Wfk3NqO-EfdBR8QpJ4TLjGml5fnyC6r3GDtmKEFcQbaL8fLSR9sSK_i3os9UBzC6KY/s1600/10382175_650698535047572_7746584814193467441_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMqjSoBKhFYnB2ejcmTJvyThZXUIf-DG0M58_egfZY_tmB2eoNQ69q8crz4D0JRa11TYqDsZr87Wfk3NqO-EfdBR8QpJ4TLjGml5fnyC6r3GDtmKEFcQbaL8fLSR9sSK_i3os9UBzC6KY/s1600/10382175_650698535047572_7746584814193467441_n.jpg" height="133" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I turned to Mike and let out a
“yeehah” and offered him my sincere congratulations, trying to cement that
moment in both of our memories for eternity. Not much was said in reply, Mike
was in awe of his achievement and I left him to breathe it all in sat in his
chair, while I tidied the swim and readied the rod to be re-cast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As I sat back down, I couldn’t shake
the guilt that had enveloped me due to the unknown true weight. I put myself in
that position, thinking about how I would have felt in February had Dave and
Warren not stepped in to assist. We didn’t even have measurements of the fish
to estimate the weight. It was a huge fish with an enormous girth and I started
to mentally compare it to the images of my fish in my mind. Was it the same
fish? No, it was definitely shorter but with a much bigger girth! I recounted the
Avon scales when my fish was placed on them and recalled vividly the needle
swinging much further past the 40lb mark and an audible indication when the
spring had hit the bottom of the case, which was conspicuous by its absence on
this occasion. I picked up the Avon's and started to pull and sure enough I
pulled the needle past 44lbs before it wouldn’t go any further. Had the needle
actually settled on 40lb 4oz? Mike was satisfied with my little demonstration
and with the doubt visibly lifted, accepted the reading as the true weight of
the fish. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I had decided that I would not make
the same mistake again and only the most trusted of my angling friends would be
informed of the day’s events, until after we had returned home, to ensure that
we could fish for the remainder of the two day session unmolested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: inherit; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The rest of the session passed by
without event, save for a jack at last knockings and a rainbow trout to me on
the second day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #1f497d;"font-family: inherit;">We had another session booked the
following Thursday/Friday and then another at the end of November. We ended the
2014 trials, having fished 8 days, catching fish weighing 44lb 06oz 40lb 04oz, 21lb 04oz 17lb 12oz and 17lb 10oz plus a jack, one 5lb Rainbow Trout and one 5lb Brown Trout. What a
year it had been and dare I say it, one never to be repeated!</span>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-22493942214051318952015-02-03T07:47:00.002+00:002015-02-03T07:47:58.611+00:00Fear & Loathing, Co Cavan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk90FkTOgbFxKh-se8cDpX3Ob8ZUjcb-Us983QD_GSB9HF5x1vAtickwy0MY61MyIHo1NbEkztAXDxD2xxpautPiSzrC1_li6dshve6y_fh7PSZyEtDF4fi12ZaVQWeJrchFZad9R_vbE/s1600/94ire9.BMP" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk90FkTOgbFxKh-se8cDpX3Ob8ZUjcb-Us983QD_GSB9HF5x1vAtickwy0MY61MyIHo1NbEkztAXDxD2xxpautPiSzrC1_li6dshve6y_fh7PSZyEtDF4fi12ZaVQWeJrchFZad9R_vbE/s1600/94ire9.BMP" height="218" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This could be a true story of two angling rogues who went on
holiday, got into a little mischief but never hurt anyone, or alternatively it
could be a load of nonsense, an urban myth if you like. I like to think it’s a combination of the two
but who cares? I heard the tale at a
drunken gathering of Pike fanatics, AKA the PAC convention Saturday night after
show party and it made me laugh so I thought I’d share it.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr Green and Mr Red are lifelong friends who have shared a
passion for Piking spanning four decades.
They’ve shared many memorable sessions both with rods on the bank and
beers in the bar, many of their adventures have started with the former and
finished with the latter. This
particular tale occurred in the mid-nineties when many European Pikers were
making an annual pilgrimage to the great western loughs of Ireland. Our colourful duo was typically slow off the
mark and late on the scene. They began
their Irish adventures in the Midlands and gradually made their way west over
the next few years. Sadly by the time
they felt ready to tackle the mighty western loughs the gill nets were in
place. This combined with the
increasingly demanding females back home meant they never quite made it that
far.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Living in the south east meant possibly the longest possible
journey to Holyhead and with a weeks’ worth of fishing gear and a couple of
spare sets of underwear crammed into a Peugeot 206 it was a potential
grueller. To pass the time Mr Red had
acquired an ounce of high quality hashish, most of this was cunningly secreted
around the car but there was just enough spare to pass the journey in a happy
haze with Bob Marley’s “Songs of Freedom” the perfect accompaniment. Not only were the two friends fond of a glass
of beer or six they were also confirmed stoners. The poor old Peugeot resembled Cheech &
Chong’s van by the time Mr Green pulled into a lay by for a much needed
slash. It is not our place to judge the
rights or wrongs of such actions; we merely recount the tale as it was told and
repeat no person or pike was ever hurt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And so, after the overnight ferry crossing and the normal
routine of getting lost in Dublin the Peugeot eventually found its way out of
the city in a Northerly direction and a couple of hours later arrived at its
destination. The Town was familiar to
both Mr Green and Mr Red as they had explored the lakes and pubs in this area
on a previous visit and found both agreeable.
After parting with some cash to secure the digs they opted to chill out
and snooze beside a lake with bite alarms turned up loud! The afternoon passed amidst a chorus of
snoring and no Pike happened along to disturb their slumber. The evening was spent in a pub of course,
supping Irish Guinness, the finest beer in the world. Acquaintances made on a previous holiday were
renewed but the night didn’t get too messy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSlY9g5keGEQcnSFZ1gvm-lGJf627J2nahMESHyoF-8Fo36CzTrgEntE66CrWEW4U-yOZ3d5hQ2imTLMDE5h5O5rg-Z2Blj6clReAQUAQOsmF2iODeoWqKViNYHpvWbIoLiH7CCAPS4o/s1600/95ire.BMP" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSlY9g5keGEQcnSFZ1gvm-lGJf627J2nahMESHyoF-8Fo36CzTrgEntE66CrWEW4U-yOZ3d5hQ2imTLMDE5h5O5rg-Z2Blj6clReAQUAQOsmF2iODeoWqKViNYHpvWbIoLiH7CCAPS4o/s1600/95ire.BMP" height="229" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following morning was spent at another lake, this one a
bit further down the valley, one where the two Pikers had caught a few fish on
a previous visit. Mr Green opened his
account for the week with a couple of jacks but Mr Red failed to find any
fish. With limited bank access and
unspectacular results they decided on a move to another water, stopping in town
on the way for supplies. The menu
included fresh sausages from the local butchers. Now every Irishman knows of a special lake full
of big Pike and the butcher was no exception.
Mr Green was all for following the lead but grumpy Mr Red who was still
blanking would have none of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So the two visited another lake where they had enjoyed
previous success but again the fishing was poor. For a while the two were entertained by the
antics of a herd of cows in the field on the far side of the lake. The cattle were repeatedly stampeding from
one side of the field to the other and making a suitable racket as they did
so. This hardly made the afternoon a
peaceful one but neither angler was disturbed by any Pike that afternoon so a
restless Mr Green left the drowsy Mr Red in charge of the rods while he went
for a wander. Sometime later Mr Red
opened his eyes to find the indicators still firmly in place and no sign of Mr
Green so he did what he always did at times of confusion and rolled a joint.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another doze and another joint later Mr Green finally
reappeared beaming from ear to ear and holding a bulging carrier bag. Mr Red yawned and stretched, looking at his
friend quizzically he asked “What the fuck you got there then?” The grin on Mr Green’s face broadened and
with a sparkle in his eye he replied “Fungi”.
“What the fuck?” said Mr Red.
“Very special fungi…magic even” laughed Mr Green. At this point the penny finally dropped and
Mr Red joined in the laughter. Things
were about to get a little strange on this holiday. The carrier bag was literally full of
thousands of tiny thin stemmed fungi… which possibly explained the mad cows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back at the cottage Mr Red was beginning to have his
doubts. He wouldn’t know a Liberty cap
from the liberty bell so wasn’t completely sure about the lumpy, foul smelling
mushroom soup his friend had cooked up.
Mr Green necked his with no hesitation so Mr Red thought ‘in for a penny...’
and did the same. Half an hour later
while shaving, Mr Red noticed he’d managed to cut himself in several places and
it was at this point he realised that he was feeling very, very strange. He returned to the living room to see a wild
eyed Mr Green laughing manically. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “What’s up?” asked Mr
Red “I’m watching the cartoons in the
curtains” replied Mr Green.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So Red found himself a comfortable chair, skinned up and
settled back to enjoy the cartoons, caught Green’s eye and joined in the
laughter. Sure enough the curtains were
alive with Tom & Jerry, Micky Mouse and just about every other cartoon
character remembered from their youth.
Everything in the room looked completely different; there were waves in
the carpet, the table was hovering and the walls were wobbling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a while the cartoons needed a soundtrack so Mr Green,
acting as DJ decided that some loud dance music was the order of the day. Traversing the room to reach the stereo was
much more difficult than it had any right to be and removing the CD from its
case then getting it to play was ridiculous.
The effort was worthwhile as the music coming from the stereo (“Leftism”
by Leftfield) not only hit the spot but was clearly visible oozing from the
speakers in the form of millions of microscopic, multi-coloured particles and
even the lamp was dancing. These two
characters were experienced trippers but this was something else! To this day both are adamant that night was
their best trip, with the possible exception of…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The terrible twosome would have been happy to spend a
chilled out evening of blissful madness tripping in the cottage but things were
about to take another unexpected turn.
Mr Green, being slightly less wrecked than Mr Red decided to make a brew
and staggered towards the kitchen. Just
as he stood filling the kettle at the sink he was startled out of his socks by
a loud bang on the kitchen window. Mr
Green screamed, Mr Red got a fit of the giggles and the kitchen door
opened. There stood John, the owner of
the cottage who insisted on taking the pair for a drink at one of the many
local pubs. Now John was a very likeable
bloke but was not a man who would ever get a job as a male model; thick curly
hair, milk bottle glasses and bad acne.
John’s appearance did not prejudice the duo in the slightest but in
their mind altered state he looked very, very funny. Despite their protests, John would not take
no for an answer and the two tripping Pikers found themselves staggering into
shoes and wandering down the pub.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr Red and Mr Green could probably have just about handled a
quiet drink in a near empty pub but instead found themselves crammed into
“Flaherty’s” which had some kind of quiz night going on and was absolutely
heaving. Mr Red managed to squeeze
through to the bar where he was only slightly surprised to find the row of
bottles morphing and merging into one.
He could hardly utter any legible words so it was a relief when John
hailed the barman and ordered three black pints. Mr Green stood grinning and every time he
caught the eye of his friend the two had a struggle to suppress a fit of the
giggles. They were never sure just how
strange their behaviour was that evening or whether they were really receiving
lots of strange looks or was it paranoia?
They blamed their obviously odd behaviour on fatigue and alcohol. When safely back at the cottage, Mr Red
skinned up again and asked “D’ya think we got away with it?” He met the gaze of Mr Green and both
collapsed once more under the weight of laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UnHpYjjMzxLC7zzZRhdGEGgF5zC-tHT66t_q38GkIdHwaNHRx491o8hPH6Od4fxpFSfbXtECJxxz2ACVF9W4OW2zVLwyJw-S6x_dU77BHIgH0XEhyphenhyphenzfWW9Fw8mWcmjxPaIvMYLKjubs/s1600/95ire6.BMP" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UnHpYjjMzxLC7zzZRhdGEGgF5zC-tHT66t_q38GkIdHwaNHRx491o8hPH6Od4fxpFSfbXtECJxxz2ACVF9W4OW2zVLwyJw-S6x_dU77BHIgH0XEhyphenhyphenzfWW9Fw8mWcmjxPaIvMYLKjubs/s1600/95ire6.BMP" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For some reason these two dedicated Pikers were not at the
lakeside to watch the sun rise the following morning. Instead the sun was well up and shining too brightly
for this bewildered pair. Mr Green was
determined they should follow the butcher’s tip and head for the lake in the
hills. Mr Red was positive this would be
another wild goose chase but was too wrecked to come up with any reasonable
objection so Mr Green held sway. Mr Red
sulked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They eventually parked on a verge beside a gate and viewed
the lake below them, approximately 60 acres with two large bays connected by a
slightly narrower channel. The water was
mostly fringed with reeds with the odd bush and a few places where grass grew
down to the water’s edge, probably kept clear by cattle needing a drink. The two were lucky that one of these clear
patches lay before them, not only that it was in a pretty good position on the
edge of the narrow area. The only
trouble was the steep hill between the road and the water’s edge. This would cause little problem on the way
down but would be a grueller on the return.
A few minutes later the two, puffing and sweating, arrived at the water
and began to tackle up. Mr Red decided
to cast a plumb rod around and was unhappy to find a maximum depth of a paltry
three feet which did nothing to improve his mood. “Bloody butcher” he said before slinging a
couple of bait out and sitting down with a frown to commence the creation of
yet another spliff. Mr Green was more
optimistic and put the kettle on with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Neither angler managed to complete their task before an
alarm sounded, Mr Red had a fast take on a Herring whacked as far as
possible. He connected and started
heaving a Pike towards the bank. “Feels
like a jack “; he said and almost smiled before the fish shook the hooks
loose. Mr Red’s bout of swearing was
quite restrained under the circumstances.
The Herring was whacked out again and both returned to their
chairs. Mr Red had just skilfully
inserted the roach when the same alarm sounded again. Once again he wound down and set the hooks
and had the rod slammed down as a good fish took line straight away, then
launched itself airborne. Mr Red kept in
touch but the Pike leapt for a second time, shaking its head and throwing the
hooks. This time his swearing was fully
unrestrained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once he’d calmed down a little Mr Red said “That was a good
un, big double…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Maybe a twenty” said Mr Green<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“That helps, thanks” replied Mr Red in a pained voice. After a long silence Mr Green said “Best you
light that Joint”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvAxzFNTljTxkY3iFS3P40hlkRN8kgbcK6erjRT4mccUHX7mJekuqPgjd2K6GaZPG5SibAq4ivNiUMyzmC0deNnpzIUlQ-1fOKxERaWyQ7cGEkNO_zvfqdcaN9Odh52O5d92dtg_CrG5k/s1600/95ire2-copy.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvAxzFNTljTxkY3iFS3P40hlkRN8kgbcK6erjRT4mccUHX7mJekuqPgjd2K6GaZPG5SibAq4ivNiUMyzmC0deNnpzIUlQ-1fOKxERaWyQ7cGEkNO_zvfqdcaN9Odh52O5d92dtg_CrG5k/s1600/95ire2-copy.bmp" height="320" width="231" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From that point the day got much better, Mr Red finally
managed to bank a fish, a small one but the monkey was off his back. Mr Green joined in the action too and takes
came regularly throughout the day. Most
action came to rods cast as far as possible into slightly deeper water but the
occasional fish picked up baits placed close to the numerous weed beds closer
to their bank. There were no monsters
but several good doubles graced their nets and both were in good heart. By the time they staggered coughing and
wheezing back up the hill their tally was fifteen Pike but both were sure the
leaping Pike that Mr Red had lost was a few pounds heavier than any they’d
managed to land.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This gave the pair of Pikers a confidence boost and from
that point on their fishing luck improved.
They sensibly resisted the lure of that massive bag of mushrooms and
even more sensibly decided to rest the lake in the hills for a day or two. An hour’s drive to the mighty Lough Allen saw
a nice fish for Mr Red then a day in a boat on another lake saw both catching plenty
on lures and trolled baits. Both
successful days were toasted with lots of Guinness in Flaherty’s where by now
the regulars had forgotten their earlier oddness and welcomed them warmly. To not flirt with the barmaid was considered
the height of rudeness by Mr Red who tried to be polite as possible, to
barmaids at least. Back at the cottage the
hash block took a hammering.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With one full day left Mr Red took no persuading to follow
Mr Green’s suggestion that they spend it at the lake in the hills. Being a superstitious soul Mr Green also
suggested they repeat a winning formula and neck a load more mushrooms the
night before and once again Mr Red eagerly agreed. This trip did not reach the heights of the
first but they giggled a lot, the music still oozed and they definitely didn’t
go to the pub! They even managed to
crawl out of bed and get to the lake at first light the following day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once again the pair had a busy day with frequent takes but
things were not as hectic as before. As
on the first day most takes came to long range baits, both managed double
figure fish and both were thoroughly stoned.
A beautiful sunset was toasted with a final cup of tea then the pair
reluctantly began packing up. Green set
about the task quickly but Red hates this job and is always very slow. So with most of his gear packed Mr Green
stood holding his last rod while he waited for his friend to catch up. “All I need is for the tip to tap and the
line pull out of my fingers…” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr Red’s sarcastic reply had barely died when Green
exclaimed “Fucking hell...I’ve got a fucking take!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaD6p88qYMgUcSUpK48hpzsV6YtYMwH8ckLpDapoC1ZxEh6c-OBe-ZanUNM43xgcFKhVMUqsAOpnO6xh2HmyRv5uqbvf7vf9dCDJb8jtxVN3MmG0tZ5YYIpeZXWUFIFbqPbykCF2rcUw/s1600/95ire42-copy.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaD6p88qYMgUcSUpK48hpzsV6YtYMwH8ckLpDapoC1ZxEh6c-OBe-ZanUNM43xgcFKhVMUqsAOpnO6xh2HmyRv5uqbvf7vf9dCDJb8jtxVN3MmG0tZ5YYIpeZXWUFIFbqPbykCF2rcUw/s1600/95ire42-copy.bmp" height="245" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Fuck off!” laughed Red but his friend was serious and wound
into a final Pike.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we heard this tale both Green and Red had slightly
different memories/versions of the various events but one of the things they
were unanimous about; This Pike fought like hell. It stripped yards of line off Green’s reel
and threatened to dive into the thick reeds on numerous occasions. At times it seemed impossible to land this
fish but eventually it succumbed, Red made no mistake with the net and Green
had a whacker! She was unhooked by
torchlight, weighed and photographed then returned where she swam away
strongly. The holiday was complete, it
couldn’t get any better or could it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That night Green and Red made a final trip to Flaherty’s
where they received another warm welcome, particularly Red’s favourite barmaid. During the course of the evening it became
apparent she was more than friendly. To
use the words of Mr Red “She was dripping like a fucked fridge”. In fact she was more than willing to
accommodate both of the hairy arsed Pikers.
It may be because he had a girl back home or it may have been the
thought of a sweaty Mr Red grinning like a loon. Either way and to his credit Mr Green did not
take the good lady up on her offer. Mr
Red is not so chivalrous…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Twenty four hours later Mr Red was still grinning and Mr
Green had a broad smile too, not even the misery of the M6 could dampen their
spirits. Green drove, Red skinned up and
both laughed regularly as they reminisced on the past week.. “What did you do with the Mushies?” Red
asked. “In the cool box..” said Green
“…it’s the first time we’ve ever gone on holiday and come back with more drugs
than we left with!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anonymous </span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-37629930356587667962015-01-15T20:01:00.000+00:002015-01-15T20:01:03.895+00:00The God of Striped Fish (Part 2)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjIvwKy-yg3Z_e1kad79lCySO2KP5mdXEoOA6b25Ylk1aOm74RQf25KNlOjj51_8EXtCinzf2kp6eM7JMe5eWh9K5e3gAqaaSaLViB5lzTfsVlGedAiXEKtdLu2QGosUk3xkiyODcaDE/s1600/002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkjIvwKy-yg3Z_e1kad79lCySO2KP5mdXEoOA6b25Ylk1aOm74RQf25KNlOjj51_8EXtCinzf2kp6eM7JMe5eWh9K5e3gAqaaSaLViB5lzTfsVlGedAiXEKtdLu2QGosUk3xkiyODcaDE/s1600/002.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Out near the centre the big fish sulks. It is
seemingly collecting it’s thoughts after taking him in all directions because
of the light-action Abu’s lack of grunt. On land, he cautiously leans back on
the rod and feels gradual movement towards him, like the times he’s hooked a
log or similar and attempted to slowly drag it close enough to free whichever
lure it’s tried to claim. Then the fish
starts to move left again but not with the purpose of before. Is it tiring?
It’s put in enough effort over the last five solid minutes to need a
rest. How <i>old</i> must it be? He hadn’t
considered that until now. He has no
concept of how many summers and winters the epic fish has seen. It obviously
can’t be young any more. And perhaps,
like an aging heavyweight who can still start the first few rounds strongly,
it’s there for the taking by the seventh.
Then another thought concerns him; what if it’s too tired after fighting
too long to be able to swim away afterwards?
Bloody hell, if it died that would be worse than losing it. He would rather the fish threw the lure and
lived due to his lack of skilful playing of it than stayed hooked but couldn’t
recover because he’d played it carefully.
So he decides to go against all his learned angling behaviour and horse
the fish to shore as quickly as he dares.
And if it escapes because of that......well.....he’ll lose sleep for
years, but so be it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He tightens the drag on the Citica and leans
the rod back, much harder than before.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This already feels completely wrong but he’s chosen it as the way
forward and resists the urge to steady up again.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The line starts to travel slowly right and he
pitches the rod leftwards to side strain in the opposite direction.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He feels the fish turn and for the first time
since he hooked it he feels progress in his favour.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As he draws the fish towards him he winds the
gained line onto the reel and now anticipates no threat of it being taken back
from him.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The sheer weight of the perch
still feels for the entire world like a snag but the gradual movement, as he
draws to what feels like breaking point while winding line onto the spool,
tells him it’s all fish.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">And it’s
getting nearer.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">A vast swirling boil in
the water just ahead of the line’s entry point jolts him as the reality of
potentially physically holding this fish sinks in.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The blood is pounding in his ears again and
he can feel his heart beating in his throat.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This is scarier now because he’s so close. Injury time. The final lap.
The short span of minutes when losing hurts way, way more than back at the
start of the match or the race.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The
eternal knowledge that it was </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">right there
</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">and won’t be again.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Another almighty
swirl of water, closer now, and he physically sees the vast back of the perch,
clear of the surface and not far in front of him, with it’s mast-like dorsal
dominant.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The fish is almost stationary
and he barely knows how to proceed because the spectacle of the scene is
causing a lack of brain function like never before. He stands with the line
just tight and the perch like a dog, static on the end of a barely adequate
lead.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The fish has no more fight.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He can clearly see that.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">But he’s fumbling his thoughts.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Draw it nearer?</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It’s too shallow now; the fish is in the last
of the deeper water that his net would need.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Go in for it, then?</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The lake bed
looks more stony here and he </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">would</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">
risk walking on it. He takes his first steps to the edge and, as slowly as he
can, his first steps into the pond.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He
feels the slight chill of the autumnal water going in through his boots and all
the time he’s braced to nervous breaking point for the fish surging away again
from in front of him.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It holds,
mercifully, in situ.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Burned out by it’s efforts it can only
suspend with swaying tail and fins as he edges nearer, heart pounding and his
mouth drier than <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New Mexico</st1:place></st1:state>. As he shuffles closer he slowly turns the
handle on the reel to take up what line gradually becomes available. And then he’s there. It’s right in front of him and, ready as he
thought he was for seeing the fish close up, he realises nothing could have
prepared him for this. Nothing before or
since. He sees all the colour and detail
and <i>vastness </i>that he could never
imagine. Now trembling, he reaches behind his back with his left hand and feels
the handle of his net that is, somehow, still clipped to his waistcoat. He hoists the handle upwards and feels the
net pop free of the metal ring that holds it there. He prays for an uneventful gentle flick-open
of the net and gets it; none of the inverted mesh or hinge hook-ups of the
past. <i>Oh God, this is so close. </i>He starts to reach the net towards the
mighty perch before him. He’s going tail first to give it the best chance of
fitting within the frame. The fish’s
head starts to sway and it’s body with it.
Recharged in part, it contemplates departure. He sees these signs and goes for broke. The net is in the water and the frame is
passing over the huge tail at pace. The
mesh is flowing behind as the frame reaches the hand-like spiked dorsal. Now the fish feels the mesh at it’s tail end
and decides to leave. In a desperate
move he drags the net onwards, up the fish, then tries to lift. The massive perch erupts with a final
pent-up, saved-up burst for freedom and again hurls it’s head left and right
like a pitbull as it tries to shed the lure and net in equal measure. He throws the rod. He needs both hands for the net. He grasps the frame and hoists it clear of
the water with his now free right hand while still gripping the net’s handle
with his left. The big perch has
just-and-no-more slid down into the mesh which is bulging ridiculously under
the strain of it’s bulk. The rod and
reel are lying in a foot of water beside him with the line leading up into the
net and, beyond that, to the plastic cray wedged in the cavernous mouth of the
huge fish. He holds the Y of the net
frame with his right hand and reaches in with his left to free the lure. The
Castaic is set firmly inside the epic jaw and it takes a couple of downward
pushes to ping the hook free and liberate the crayfish. He drops that, also, down into the water to
join the rod and reel that cast it then staggers to the bank, gazing down all
the time into the straining net he’s carrying, at the gigantic perch bulging
within it and all the while saying out loud to nobody in particular<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">this-can-not-be-real......
this-can-not-be-real...... <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">in a voice that sounds like it has stage
fright at a school play. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">******************************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He’s up onto a thick bank of leaves deposited
over weeks by the prevailing wind. In
the absence of the mat (that he decided he would never need at a perch pond)
this will be the landing pad for the massive striped visitor during it’s short
stay away from it’s natural element. He
wants all this done as quickly as possible.
Weigh it in the net, photograph (next to the net for scale) then back in
the lake. The net is resting down on the leaves and he can barely take his eyes
from the vast area the mesh clad fish is covering in front of his feet. He’s dug the little Salter scale from a
pocket and is hooking it onto the net frame it’s zeroed for. It’s black metal hook rattles as his hand
trembles all through the procedure. Then
it’s the time. He starts to raise the
scale upwards and feels it strain against the net it’s trying to lift. The tiny white marker sails down the line of
numbers, past three pounds, four pounds then five pounds. <i>Bloody hell. </i>The net and it’s spiked captive are still firmly
grounded. The marker passes six pounds
and he feels what is almost anxiety course through him. Six pounds and the fish still hasn’t left the
leafy ground it seems rooted to. His
hands and the scale are wobbling with a mixture of effort and adrenalin. The familiar pulsing in his neck has
returned. The marker is down to seven
pounds. Seven. Pounds. It can’t go any further.
(Literally it can’t, because the
scale has bottomed out at that figure.)
Seven pounds. Whatever it weighs
beyond this will never be known because that’s as far as it goes, end of the
road. Seven pounds. He really may well be sick at any second. The
tackle shop owner’s voice is in his head;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">catch a
perch that bottoms these out and you’ll be famous</span></i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">The marker is wedged down at seven. The fish is raised but still resting on
leaves. He lifts further and, with slightly
more effort, he feels the net and perch gently swing clear of the ground. How much more was that? He’s frantically trying to guess....four more
ounces? Five? No way to ever know and no way he ever
will. But one thing is doubtless.....the
fish went seven pounds and, in the knowledge of that, he needs to kneel down
before he keels over from the light-headed daze surrounding him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OwCcaHz2BIghjQHKmQT9wgA6bM59HjM-MEM1fcohHYoJi2w8SYptKxLvO-yvCfWS8pnLBx-D5zAWjI75COFRgfh_tq225c6sboUptLE_YOaHRkbgW2Gk5HKvX1vd8O4zjwZh1DJ7pPo/s1600/005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OwCcaHz2BIghjQHKmQT9wgA6bM59HjM-MEM1fcohHYoJi2w8SYptKxLvO-yvCfWS8pnLBx-D5zAWjI75COFRgfh_tq225c6sboUptLE_YOaHRkbgW2Gk5HKvX1vd8O4zjwZh1DJ7pPo/s1600/005.jpg" height="227" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Photograph.
He goes to the chest pocket he slid the camera into. Not there.
Oh shit, no. The jetty. The camera dug into his ribs and he placed it
on the jetty. He looks back along the
shore. Jagged wooden legs jut from the
water to show where the jetty (and his camera) used to be. That. Cannot. Have. Happened......<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">But it has.
So....phone camera. Which is on
his phone. Which had no signal. So stayed in the car to make more room for
the actual camera. Which is at the
bottom of the lake. You. Are. Kidding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">You know what? Balls to it.
He wants the huge fish back in the water now and staggers to his feet
then heaves the net and fish off the leaves and up. He reverses the journey
with the net, grasping the frame with both hands again, back to the water’s
edge. He sets off slowly into the lake
once more and sees his rod and reel lying on the bottom ahead of him. He passes them and stops when he’s knee deep
in the pond. Then he lowers the net
slowly down to the surface and beyond and sees the fish stir as the water
immerses it’s hefty body. After a minute
of letting it acclimatise he tilts the net down and back while reaching in and
supporting the fish from below. He
realises this is the first time he has physically touched the almighty
creature. Then he slides the net away
and drops the handle to let it fall back to join the already submerged rod
behind him and he’s left cradling a perch so immense that it renders him
speechless by it’s might. He sways it
gently back and forth in the water. The
fish puffs it’s gills and lake debris discharges from it’s giant mouth,
collected when it inhaled the Castaic crayfish currently lying on the lakebed
near his feet. He raises the fish’s vast
spiked dorsal and gazes in disbelief at how it does indeed match his hand for
size. A seven pound perch. That’s what he’s holding. That’s what he’s rocking to and fro in the
cool water and that is what is now starting to show signs of recovery. The big body has a fresh tenseness, as though
muscles have renewed strength. The amber
fins are rippling and the dorsal is raised unaided. He continues to sway it and the water makes a
subtle flowing sound as he does so. He
feels the first flex from the fish but keeps hold. He wants a couple more of those before he
releases it’s huge frame from his hands.
He knows it’s leaving soon and he strokes it’s vast thuggish head
because he also knows he’s going to make a point of never seeing it again. The perch flexes once more, now with renewed
strength, and he suddenly feels how it was able to power away from him with
such ease when he hooked it. He slowly
removes his hands from the fish’s flanks and instead holds only the thick wrist
of it’s tail. The perch stays perfectly
upright in the water and begins to sway itself against the gentle restraint
he’s using to make sure it’s energy is restored. It flexes powerfully now, it’s bearings regained,
and he opens his fingers to release the tail he’s been holding. He feels that
tail flow from his hand. Then he stands
fully upright to watch it’s progress, willing to wade in (hell, <i>swim</i> <i>in</i>)
if he has to in order to help it further if need be. But that won’t be necessary, because it
glides away like a ship moving off after getting launched on the <st1:place w:st="on">Clyde</st1:place>. He strains
to see it for as long as he can below the gentle bow-wave it cannot fail to
cause. Then it’s lost to him, blending
in to the deeps as the wave peters out.
No trace exists. No sign to even
show that the startling event he has just experienced ever took place. His
brain is absorbing a barrage of mixed emotions; jubilation, despair, anxiety
and disbelief. Then after standing and
staring at the surface of the lake for longer than he’ll ever realise he turns,
reaches down to retrieve rod, reel, lure and net and swishes his feet towards
shore where he badly needs to sit down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">******************************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He watches water drip from the Citica and
vaguely accepts he’ll need to take it apart to clean. He’s got most of his gear
packed and is readying himself for the thorny struggle back to the car. He
looks again to where the jetty once stood and briefly contemplates an attempt
at retrieving his camera from the lake but disregards the idea. It shall
forever remain an offering to The God Of Striped Fish. He pledges a media blackout. None of the angling comics will hear about
this. In fact, nobody will. The circus will not descend. There’s no photographs, so no catch. A blank, in fact. <i>Bloody
crayfish everywhere</i>, he’ll say.....<i>ruined
the place</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Then one last shake of the watery reel and
the Citica is back in his largest pocket.
So, where does he go from here?
What will motivate him after <i>that</i>
fish? Will he <i>really</i> head out, on a wet day, to the muddy canal with it’s
dog-crap riddled towpath, to jig for perch that weigh ounces and can be swung
to hand and held between finger and thumb?
Oh, this is going to be difficult.
This does not bode well at all for what has been his primary focus (and
enjoyment) for decades. He briefly
remembers a history lesson at school and the ancient words from a book about
Alexander the Great that he was forced to plough through;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">And when Alexander saw the breadth
of his domain he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> </span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">No
more worlds to conquer. The elation from
today’s event is caving in to hard reality. The slump after the peak. What does he aim for now? An eight pounder? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Zk6ySVCS7D1dFbD-gIwSPGGZzxT2Fg3lfz-gm6OIvIAnCzlk0lvS3EG8rnrvRVNV8rTbLiJpQ_bdy1YjdAleqr7F2G4VJE3SA0EVwEYBeZy6YHWv2wiIT9klpxR-QuhOfMQrfAC2qjY/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Zk6ySVCS7D1dFbD-gIwSPGGZzxT2Fg3lfz-gm6OIvIAnCzlk0lvS3EG8rnrvRVNV8rTbLiJpQ_bdy1YjdAleqr7F2G4VJE3SA0EVwEYBeZy6YHWv2wiIT9klpxR-QuhOfMQrfAC2qjY/s1600/006.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">At
the moment, getting back through the savage undergrowth, as uninjured as
possible....that can be the start and he’ll take the future from there. He manages a last look at the surface of the
lake. The silence and calm seem to bizarrely contradict the events of the day. He
takes one final moment to pat a waistcoat pocket, checking a particular small
lure box is securely packed there. It
is. This small lure box is the one thing he must NOT forget to safely take
home. Because it</span>
contains a now much treasured item.....the Castaic crayfish that never got to
ride a fast boat on <st1:place w:st="on">Lake Tahoe</st1:place>, never got to
hang out in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Chad</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s
tackle den and, for that matter, never managed to sneak a peek at
Kaylee-Marie’s poolside ass. But <i>did</i>
manage, with the whole world unaware, to become the most famous crayfish to
leave the Castaic lure factory. Ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Then
he turns again to face the mass of branches, briars and brambles ahead of
him. It’s a long trek back to the car
and he knows Mother Nature has every intention of tearing him to pieces.</span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<strong><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></strong></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Jake Hamilton</span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-59009504536985540792015-01-13T08:07:00.000+00:002015-01-13T08:07:07.469+00:00The God of Striped Fish (Part 1)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi6a3btWiMYjh4r4khf4RYEgUW081DZw71HlrO26XBg7FePbbI9whoO4OU6BAYkDdR4xV1XLFgMAMDOkxTmymJzdcBfx8soG5SfTDNb377n0mLXNzTI2pb1XzeAeBRSWkqHSSvcQKFTsE/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi6a3btWiMYjh4r4khf4RYEgUW081DZw71HlrO26XBg7FePbbI9whoO4OU6BAYkDdR4xV1XLFgMAMDOkxTmymJzdcBfx8soG5SfTDNb377n0mLXNzTI2pb1XzeAeBRSWkqHSSvcQKFTsE/s1600/001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">In a time to come he would begin to question
if the day had been a dream. Like a lot
of dreams the details are vivid then blurred, easy to recall then more
difficult to reach. And, like a lot of
dreams, moments actually forgotten suddenly re-emerge for seemingly no reason.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">But maybe it was Rust Cohle who made the most
pertinent of those observations;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"> “And, like a lot of
dreams..........there’s a monster at the end of it.”</span></i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">******************************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">This had better be worth the effort. He’s been on the move for only five minutes
and he’s already torn up by the undergrowth.
He was told it was inaccessible and the landlord wasn’t joking. The pond being barely visible on Google Earth
was the first indication he’d had that this huge area of vegetation was going
to be a natural barrier <i>par excellence. </i> He’s stuffed his folding net down the front of
his top to shield the mesh after being wrenched to and fro as it snagged left
and right. He’s ditched all luxuries at
the car after seeing the fortress of brambles and blackthorn ahead of him...the
bag with food and drink, the waders and waterproofs all deemed worth the risk
of abandonment in the vehicle’s boot to travel as lightly as possible. Even his mobile phone has been shut back in
the glove box due to a zero signal, thus freeing up a pocket for his good camera. He’s a walking jangling rattle of small
tackle boxes, all contained about his person in every pocket his waistcoat
sports. In the most spacious of these is his Shimano Citica reel and tight to
his chest is the cloth-sleeved two piece Abu baitcast rod that he’s glad is no
bigger. He wishes he’d remembered a cap
as his scalp is again raked by thorns but he’s grateful for the Polaroids that
are keeping him from being blinded by grasping barbed limbs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">No
paths</span></i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">,
the landlord had told him. His only instruction was he had to <i>look for the least dense parts and press on
regardless</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">So, at the risk of being the victim of a
wind-up so cruel he would never forget it, he did indeed ‘press on’. Regardless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">You’ll
be the only one there.....the only one who’s been there for years, probably.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Needless to say that had inspired him. A lack of competition is always welcome. No pike, and an invasion of crayfish that
could only have worsened in the span of time since the landlord had managed his
last visit meant it drew little or no interest, even from those who had made
the ragged journey in the past. Hey,
maybe it’s gone. Maybe time and geology
have slowly drained it into the earth.
He’s going to find out pretty soon though because, through the myriad of
clawing vines ahead he can see clear daylight.
And now he sees water. He
realises he’s going to be able to put the landlord’s assertion to the test, the
claim that has brought him here through a literal jungle of hurt, armed with
rod, reel and packs of soft plastic crayfish patterned with a variety of
colours they don’t even exist in; <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">There’s
only perch.....but everywhere I looked, bloody hell, there were hundreds of
them.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">******************************
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVHpfp0F6zlrgQqD-AjsvGSJTK5defIAVj-CM2MgstDM8DXRSmZRnEkYTYGb49H7D0GnSOhpZKT7NJDVnzuZyc1pzxf5PuuhESYUyzNNX9sJI0A1J5-Pu2KhngLi6aMe-OuGsCHa6zXg/s1600/003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVHpfp0F6zlrgQqD-AjsvGSJTK5defIAVj-CM2MgstDM8DXRSmZRnEkYTYGb49H7D0GnSOhpZKT7NJDVnzuZyc1pzxf5PuuhESYUyzNNX9sJI0A1J5-Pu2KhngLi6aMe-OuGsCHa6zXg/s1600/003.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">The water is clearer than he expected. You wouldn’t drink it but neither is it the
murky green he anticipated. He can see
the bottom of the pond even some way out, aided by what looks like sand as a bed. Clay?
He’s creeping nearer with that as-yet-unknown new venue curiosity that
no-one tires of. At first, the world
below the surface seems devoid of life but then the first flicker of movement
catches his eye. His brain registers a
crayfish sidling across the pale base of the lake. Slightly further out, another of similar size
is static. Then, reassuringly beyond
words, three perch become visible as they pass in front of him with the
seemingly clear intention of going somewhere, before merging with the darker
water and being lost to his vision. His
enthusiasm soars. He turns his attention
to the surroundings. The whole pond is enclosed by an arena of trees that
stretch out over the water like a circle of friends putting their arms forward
to try and touch fingers in the centre.
Bank space is tight all round but he can see what almost passes for a
beach further along from where he’s standing and, beyond that, somewhat
quirkily, a small wooden jetty juts into the water. Blimey, was there ever a boat? The thought of this place being visited by
others almost intrigues him. Then his
mind gets back to the moment and the Abu is drawn from it’s cover and
connected. The Citica is fastened to the
reel seat and line is passed from guide to guide. From a pocket he slides one of the crayfish
tackle boxes then sits himself back against a gnarled tree trunk to decide on
his weapon of choice. It can’t be said
there’s a shortage of options; he’s brought enough soft plastic to build Katie
Price a spare bust. In the compartments
of the container are crayfish of all colours, some natural and
some...well...unnatural and most are just a couple of inches in size to fit his
favourite Ecogear jigheads. Only in the larger single section of the box does
the ‘odd lure out’ reside. It’s a hefty
Castaic crayfish that dwarfs it’s comrades and has been brought out of
curiosity rather than tactical intent.
And perhaps a touch of guilt.....
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Because the Castaic has languished unused in
a drawer since it travelled home in his luggage from a <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Las Vegas</st1:place></st1:city> holiday nearly ten years before.
He’s only too aware that rather than it being him that put it into a BassPro
cart that day a decade earlier it should really have been a purchaser who was
going to actually use it. Maybe some angler
called <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Chad</st1:place></st1:country-region>
who would have taken the crayfish to <st1:place w:st="on">Lake Tahoe</st1:place>
and given it the time of it’s plastic life, belting along at high speed in the
bass boat to the largemouth hotspots and hooking into some lunkers. Then
gunning home across the water, back to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Chad</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s place and his tackle den,
ready for the next adventure while <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Chad</st1:place></st1:country-region> strolls to his fridge for an
after-bass-trip cold one, pausing only to slap the bikini clad butt of
Kaylee-Marie as she walks in from the pool.
But none of that.....just a journey in a suitcase to a cold country,
then years of deprivation in a drawer.
So, it’s finally with him because up to now he hasn’t even seen it in
the water and it’s a good a chance as any to at least get a look at this critter
as nature (or the guys at the Castaic factory) intended.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">But that’s for the end of the day; the last
few casts when, traditionally, lures that are brought only to be assessed get a
swim / crawl / twitch in some quiet snag-free corner before home. Right now, a
small Strike King crayfish is being slid onto the jighead and clipped to the
snap link. Then looking at the
watermelon green and orange cray dangling from the hook with plastic pincers
swaying he remembers his dad’s standby line for any lure that looked like it
could never fail; <i>if the fish don’t want
that I’ll eat it myself.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He’s popped the thumb bar on the Citica as he
approaches the water and the first cast fizzes the spool with a punch of his
wrist. The crayfish makes splashdown
about twenty yards away and he raises the rod tip slightly as the ‘V’ of the
line cuts it’s way across the surface towards him. When did a lure last land in this lake? Before now, has one <i>ever </i>landed in it? All is
still and he flicks the rod gently upwards as he slowly turns the reel handle
to bounce the little lure homeward bound. The next rod flick is met with an
equal bump in the opposite direction and he strikes into immediate
resistance. About fifteen yards in front
of him he sees the line jagging in several directions and feels the plunging
fight of a hooked perch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">The fish isn’t small and it takes a minor
battle to draw it closer to shore where it heavily breaks surface in a swirl of
black-barred gold and green, with amber pectorals catching his eye. It veers away to his left as he snaps open
his net with one hand while steering the fish back towards him with the
other. Then the frame and mesh are
welcoming the scrapping predator and lift it clear of it’s natural environment. He kneels down to view his trophy. It glows in the net, pristine and uncaught
until today. He slides the barbless
jighead from the side of it’s mouth and lays his rod on the ground. Then, still kneeling and holding the netted
fish with one hand he delves into one of his many pockets for the little Salter
scale that will reveal all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">This is the scale that, when purchased, the
tackle store owner was at pains to point out would only weigh up to seven
pounds. He’d reassured the shopkeeper
that the scale was only for perch and he needed nothing more. And he recalls the store owner’s reply being
along the lines of the scale being perfect for perch and if he ever catches one
that bottoms it out he’ll be famous for life.
So with the little Salter adjusted to disregard the weight of the net he
hooks it onto the frame and raises it slowly.
Two pounds and two ounces. For
him, that’s a belter. He lifts the fish
from the net and holds it carefully close to the ground for a photograph. He’s delighted when the spiked dorsal holds
fully upright for the picture then he lowers the fish slowly back into the lake
and sways it back and forth. The perch
regains it’s bearings in moments and flows away from his hand, back to the
deeper water. Then he exhales and sits
back for a moment. That was a perfect
fish. If that is all he catches today
he’ll be happy. Two pounds two. It looked huge. The biggest from the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">UK</st1:place></st1:country-region> is almost
exactly three times as heavy and that fact as ever astounds him, given that the
one he’s just returned has taken his breath away at only a third of the size. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He looks around for a new casting point. That jetty has been drawing his attention
since he arrived. He’s going to check it
out. He collects and pockets camera and
scale, then clips his net back onto his waistcoat and quietly makes his way
along the bramble-tangled shore to get to the little wooden feature. It seems decades old and not entirely
trustworthy. Years of passing seasons
have left the timber looking very much the worse for wear. He takes his first step onto it and instantly
sees, submerged to his left where the lake bed shelves, the upturned remains of
a rowing boat, it’s broken boards protruding like the exposed ribs on the
carcass of some decomposed sea creature.
Then, while he’s taking that in, the jetty suddenly creaks like the
Addams Family’s front door and instinctively he hastily lowers himself to his
knees. Common sense tells him to shuffle
back and get off it. But the
somehow-surviving boyhood drive that got him soaked to the skin on almost every
stickleback expedition from thirty years before is telling him to wait. Imagine how interesting the view off the end
would be. Surely <i>crawling</i> along will be safe as houses, what with the low centre of
gravity and all? Bollocks to it....he’s
on his way. The wood is bleached white
with exposure. He’s halfway along it on his hands and knees with the rod
crossways between his teeth like some carnival tightrope walker. Twice the jetty moves slightly and twice he
freezes before cautiously proceeding. This is a near-death experience waiting
to happen; while it’s shallow nearer to shore he can see the bottom shelving
deeper further out. Finally he’s at the
end of it. He lowers himself flat onto
his front and lays the rod next to himself.
The camera in his chest pocket is digging right into his ribs so he
draws it free and places it next to his rod on the jetty beside him. Then he slides slightly forward and peers
down over the final plank into the water below.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">******************************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszGUTUzZJWjse-b4gNf_jeizh7ngR4GDEdgF74Pa0G3fj0DrcNqtRLncvMu7EQVHv-n0rCz_n5Vg4kOQI0dPjhdFZJeJ4Imnw5S99kYFYtz1_iqdnNXDWe4mbY4Pw7sh9TPByYTOc7WQ/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszGUTUzZJWjse-b4gNf_jeizh7ngR4GDEdgF74Pa0G3fj0DrcNqtRLncvMu7EQVHv-n0rCz_n5Vg4kOQI0dPjhdFZJeJ4Imnw5S99kYFYtz1_iqdnNXDWe4mbY4Pw7sh9TPByYTOc7WQ/s1600/004.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Crayville.
There’s almost a carpet of them around the base of the wooden legs that
support the little pier. Most are just
shuffling slowly around directly underneath him. None are particularly big and he watches as a
pair spar on the pale lake bed. He drags himself further forward and bends his
head down to look back under the jetty itself.
More crayfish but also several perch congregating in the shade of the
boards. He’s pleased to note none are
bigger than his recent capture and he watches for longer than he realises as
the striped brethren mill around calmly in the faintly sun-streaked water. And as the light does indeed brighten for the
first time that day he then switches his gaze to straight out beyond the jetty
end and into the lake in front of and around his prone figure. He can see far more now that the cloud has
briefly broken up; the clay base of the pond seems almost backlit. He adjusts his Polaroids on the bridge of his
nose as he tries to establish what it is that he’s noticed scattered over the
lake bed in all directions. Crayfish
debris. Smashed crays litter the bottom
for as far as his vision allows. Broken
claws and body casings make the area resemble a crash site. That, he thinks, is bizarre. He strains to see into the deeper shelving on
both sides. Nothing much to his right
but on his left there’s a submerged tree trunk and next to that, just where the
darker water starts to take objects from view, is the faint outline of a
suspending carp. <i> That </i>surprises him, despite it being
perfectly feasible. He’s suddenly
tempted to flick the little Strike King there and see if it shows interest or
not. He won’t try to hook it but he’s
keen to see if it goes for a look. He’s
carefully reaching to his side for the rod when he realises the fish is going
to make life easier for him by coming nearer.
It’s not aware of his presence and is drifting forward into the clearer
water. And then his buttocks clench
right up as if a doctor has suddenly appeared with an endoscope, and his mind
flashes a nonsensical joke through his head as he watches the fish slowly
cruise starkly before him in all it’s multi-pound glory....When is a carp not a
carp?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">When
it’s a perch. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">******************************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">When it’s a perch. He can barely comprehend that fact, as the
huge bristling frame fills the foreground.
The destroyer of crayfish is holding station several yards beyond him
and looks like nothing reality could produce.
Years before, he’d been working at a fishery when a crowd gathered round
a perch angler who had just landed a five pounder. That fish had looked like a
physical impossibility and was the only chance many of the observers that day
would ever get to view one of five pounds in the existence we call ‘real life’.
So, as he plainly sees that the fish before him at this moment is bigger by
some margin than the one celebrated at the fishery years earlier, he can do
nothing more than say to no-one in particular <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Oh. My.
God. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">while his heart beats in his throat and he
subconsciously slides himself a short way back along the jetty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">His thoughts regroup. He’s pushing his chin
down on the pier boarding while gazing at the almighty predator dominating the
lake space in front of him and, to his mild
embarrassment, he realises he feels almost intimidated by it’s presence;
the enormity of the thought of even casting a lure to this thing seems
overwhelming. But cast a lure to it he’s going to. Then, as he reaches to his side for his rod,
he realises the pissy little two inch Strike King cray is barely going to be
noticed by a fish that could swallow an eight inch trout swimbait without it
touching the sides. So he wants the biggest bait he has with him and after a
brief mental size calculation he’s lying on his side, unclipping the tiny jig
and getting ready to swap it for the most patient lure he’s ever owned, the
Castaic crayfish, formerly of the BassPro Store, Dean Martin Drive, Las Vegas,
Nevada, USA. What’s ten years between
friends? If you wait in a drawer for long enough, your day will come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He’s constantly watching the huge fish while
he’s fastening the Castaic. He briefly
wraps the line round his forearm then pulls strongly on the lure to test it’s
connection. All holds firm with no slips
or pings. Still lying sideways and now
in great discomfort he plots how to go about this. He needs to cast the big cray well beyond the
perch then bring it back slowly into the happy hunting ground. Pitching directly to the fish would risk
spooking it and losing the present advantage of the fish being at ease. He needs to be up on his knees for this,
though, so again slides on his stomach back along the jetty, reaching halfway,
and now knowing he wouldn’t be plainly in view if he slowly knelt up. So he slowly does. His net is awkwardly clipped to the back of
his waistcoat but he ignores the hindrance.
He lifts his head an inch at a time until he sees the top of the fish,
now slightly over to the left again. He
raises the rod and the crayfish slowly rotates on the end of the line like a
circus performer as he clicks down the Citica thumb bar and draws the rod round
to his side. Then he swings the tip to
his front and sees the heavy Castaic sail into the middle distance and meet the
water a safe yardage beyond the jetty end. He keeps the rod tip as high as is
discreetly possible to lift the line clear from needlessly dragging on the
surface of the lake. And now he just lets everything settle and nervously
re-fixes his attention on the biggest perch he’s ever seen in fact or
fiction. The fish seems unperturbed by
the distant impact of plastic on water and continues it’s almost sentry-like
patrol of the immediate area. Keeping
the rod tip up he slowly turns the reel handle and, out on the lakebed, the
Castaic cray, equally slowly, begins to waddle home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">******************************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He’s got his breathing settled but the blood
is pounding in his ears. The urge to
bring the crayfish back quicker is overwhelming but he’s determined to not
stuff this up. The Citica handle is
turned gently and all the time his eyes are fixed on the fish. The steeper angle of the line is telling him
the lure is close now and as he makes more effort to see it he suddenly
realises that he can; the dark plastic critter’s shape is just in view now. And at that same moment the boss of all perch
flicks it’s broad tail and faces the approaching crayfish. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This is
nerve-shredding. </i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The fish, too, has seen the American intruder and is
visibly more alert. He dares to creep
the lure closer while locking his gaze on the fish’s reaction. Another foot of crawl. The fish looks wired now. For Christ’s sake, </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">please. </i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He dares to put a slight twitch into the retrieve; the fish
moves slowly towards the lure and he genuinely fears he’s going to puke. The sight of the stand-off is too much to
bear and, just when he thinks the vivid imagery is more than he can cope with,
the huge fish raises it’s spiny dorsal like a sail and he almost feels
light-headed as he sees that the spiked fin is as big as his open hand. Then, almost in an involuntary reaction to
that, he twitches the rod again and the crayfish does all he could dream of: it
digs into the lakebed, puffs up a tiny cloud of silt and rears up with it’s
pincers waving straight at the approaching thug as if daring it into a
fight. With that, the fish gives in to
every predatory instinct it has been attempting to suppress and lunges forward
in an attack as violent as it is breathtaking.
The Castaic cray is engulfed in a swirling montage of green, black and
amber with the vast white interior of the open jaws as the centrepiece and the
plastic lure being crunched within them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Up on the jetty he almost cries out in shock
as he fires the rod tip skywards and the line zips up off the surface of the
water and locks solidly into the fish.
He sees the head of the perch jolt round towards him then can barely
watch when the fish hurls itself into the most mind-blowing flared-gills
headshake he’s ever seen as it attempts to throw a crayfish that seems to be
fighting back like no other has before. He’s
trying to get to his feet but a seeming eternity of lying flat then kneeling
has made his legs, initially, unpredictable at best. As he finally stands, holding the rod high
and back, the huge perch bores away to the right, bow-waving parallel to the shore. He hears the spool of the Citica hiss as the
clutch gives line and his head spins with it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He needs to stay in better contact with the
fish than this and he needs to be off the jetty and onto the shore as quickly
as he can travel. He’s more than a touch
disorientated but he’s keeping a tight line somehow as he sets off along the
wooden boarding towards the bank. Then
at almost the moment he is set to depart the jetty for firm ground he feels the
world move beneath him and the sound of rotted, breaking wood that goes with
the realisation the ancient little pier is sliding away beneath him with a
splintering farewell. With a falling
leap he feels the jetty go from under him and as he hits solid earth he
stumbles, tripping forward then sideways then righting himself like Georgie
Best getting hacked by defenders but somehow staying on his feet. Behind him he hears the swirling of water as
the pier is claimed by the lake for all time, but he can’t turn to look because
he’s still fixed on the bend in the rod above his head, the line being kept
thankfully tight by the still-travelling fish at god knows what range now. He’s able to use the reel again and makes a
few turns of the handle to re-establish full contact. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">How is
it still on? </span></i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Only
the fact that he forgot to crush the barb on the Castaic’s hook has, thus far,
prevented him losing the fish in the midst of his comedic routine. But now he’s
better placed for a fight. He can see
the line entering the water some way out and travelling solidly to the
left. The fish is going back the way it
came and suddenly he’s filled with dread because he realises there is now a
sunken pier to go with the sunken boat and the sunken tree in the part of the
lake that surely must now deserve the title Sunken Corner, a district of Snag
City. If the fish gets into any of those
obstacles then all is lost. As much as
he dares he draws the rod firmly to the right to oppose the progress of the
huge perch but makes almost no impression on it. He’s aware of himself begin to
resign to fate but suddenly feels the fish turn towards shore and he cranks the
Citica handle, gratefully gaining every unexpected foot of line that he
can. Then he sees the vast shape of the
perch emerge from the darker water and veer right again, sees it clearly enough
to glimpse the brown body of the Castaic crayfish sticking out from it’s jaws
like a Cuban cigar in the mouth of a tycoon.
The spade-like tail pushes the fish past him and, again, the Citica
hisses line as he loses all the yards he managed to recapture moments
before. Christ Almighty, he isn’t used
to this. He catches little perch. The earlier two pounder was almost the
biggest he’s ever hooked. Until now. This
doesn’t even feel like reality because he can’t equate the thousands of perch
he’s ‘fought’ during thirty plus years to the immovable object that is
currently cruising away from him towards the middle of the lake. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">To be continued.....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Jake Hamilton</span>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-69102547077522193802014-11-04T08:13:00.000+00:002014-11-04T08:13:17.325+00:00Full Circle<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMqaSi4qpK9WjImr70vg6mQe_Z8v5Jopoj3x8g1dB4HrhiZ3ZazW6hqTlDMv5Ed2WzW8943QCVx6we4PKzPPGAWSeejyGy58LENY9rXWCrYQ2eN8hzfLTgMZxcVZd-BQQY9EYGAHbGBw/s1600/The+young+Apprentice.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMqaSi4qpK9WjImr70vg6mQe_Z8v5Jopoj3x8g1dB4HrhiZ3ZazW6hqTlDMv5Ed2WzW8943QCVx6we4PKzPPGAWSeejyGy58LENY9rXWCrYQ2eN8hzfLTgMZxcVZd-BQQY9EYGAHbGBw/s1600/The+young+Apprentice.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the 2009/2010 season drew to a close I had hardly fished
at all, missing the entire months of November, December and January due to the
first lack of enthusiasm and motivation I had encountered during my time as a
pike angler. A combination of work and personal issues had meant that after a
couple of sessions early October, it was
mid February before I again wet a line and at this point I had an extremely
modest season’s tally of just six pike under my belt from the handful of
fishing sessions ventured upon. I wouldn’t have returned to angling at all that
season had it not been for my new partner asking why I didn’t want to go any
longer with a mountain of fishing gear in the garage and photo’s of pike all
over the house. She pushed and pushed until I eventually agreed on a short
session with her which resulted in a total blank.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We fished together a few more times on venues that had been
kind to me in the past but things did not go too well. ‘It’s your sport I
thought you knew what you were doing?’ She teased me, ‘you’re not very good at
this’ was another comment which really only served to motivate me to prove her
wrong. Maybe she intended to have that
effect all along?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day I received a text informing me of a friend’s capture
of a decent fish, as we were very close by, we went for a look and as we gazed upon
a lovely 21lber I said to her ‘that’s what a big pike looks like’. ‘Is he a
better angler than you’? She countered as we walked back to the car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6EtrwcGLmtZNliLS5E5JQfkZ5z-ogJLD4kOMK9XHvFaK9wTtJXCvLluilWcbIsdnQX73uzaPokZHNy85I7OEc4x36IJMOG9ZG3zaGk2z8uQZSc91O8aPpzUeaEQfHWslUhNdOk-OvCzA/s1600/18lb+Monkey+off+back.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6EtrwcGLmtZNliLS5E5JQfkZ5z-ogJLD4kOMK9XHvFaK9wTtJXCvLluilWcbIsdnQX73uzaPokZHNy85I7OEc4x36IJMOG9ZG3zaGk2z8uQZSc91O8aPpzUeaEQfHWslUhNdOk-OvCzA/s1600/18lb+Monkey+off+back.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monkey off my back</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enthused by the 20 we had just witnessed we returned home and
grabbed some gear and visited the scene of my greatest moment in pike fishing
some 6 years beforehand, for a short afternoon session. Runs were forthcoming immediately but
bizarrely the first four I somehow missed, striking into nothing, an affliction
I had not often previously encountered. Whilst feeling slightly embarrassed I
tried to explain that I really did know what I was doing, but must be a bit
‘ring rusty’. A few more barbed comments were delivered by my partner and as I
look back I realise that it was first class banter, although it didn’t feel
that way at the time. Shortly
afterwards, would you believe it? The 4<sup>th</sup> rod that I had made up for
Lynda was away. She made no mistake with
her 1<sup>st</sup> fish of any description and soon a nice nine pounder was
safely in the net. As I am sure you can
now imagine she found this quite amusing.
Salvation was to come for me however as shortly afterwards the float
belonging to my left hand rod which I had cast some 10 yards upstream in the
nearside margin suddenly appeared in front of me travelling at a rate of knots
its view having been slightly obscured by our shelter, although I had been
checking upon it every few minutes, the strike was met with a solid resistance
and a short pike quickly came into view, it was drawn into the landing net, and
upon trying to lift the net out of the water it dawned on me I could have something a bit
better than I had expected. A short but incredibly fat pike of trout water
proportions was unhooked and weighed at 18lb 6oz! Result! The monkey was off my
back. Photographs were taken and we
retired home for the evening.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">At home basking in the warm glow that only a
good pike capture gives, I formulated the plan for the following weekend which
would be the last of the river season. Naturally a pre- dawn return to same
spot was decided upon. It was the last Sunday of the season and four rods were
cast into position in darkness.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">As </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">the sun came up over the horizon on the far
bank, I noticed that the water was far more coloured than it had been the week
before. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I had in the past discovered
that this spot had not fished well when the land drain upstream was discharging
its contents into the river. It didn’t feel right and although over the years
the area had been very kind to me, it was the last fishing day I had available
that season and I didn’t want to waste it. We decided to pack away the gear and
move to</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">another nearby venue.
This second venue looked spot on but after an hour or so no runs was
forthcoming. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had over the previous few seasons been fishing a land
drain some 10 miles away without a lot of success. I had caught fish and they
had been of a good average size, all over 15lb in weight but captures were
isolated and a lot of rod hours had been fished for each capture, my best from
the venue weighed 19lb although a friend had caught a 21, and I suspected that the
water held bigger pike. Fish were nomadic and long stretches of the 12 mile
long drain seemed completely barren. I had in my possession however some
photographs of fish to 26lb caught by other anglers from the water over the
years, a stamp of fish I yearned to catch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we struggled for a run on this much easier water my
thoughts turned to the drain, it was the last weekend of the season and we were
blanking, knowing that a run if it were forthcoming it would more than likely
be a jack or double at best, I began to feel that we should instead be on the
drain, where a blank would be likely, but we were more likely to encounter a
better stamp of fish should we be so fortunate as to receive a run. I consulted
my partner and we agreed on another move to our third venue of the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the short drive we arrived at my favourite swim and I
wasn’t surprised to find it vacant as the drain was not heavily fished and
access not easy. I had previously negotiated an arrangement to park on private
land, and had never before seen another angler in the area.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We set up and fished, after an hour or so had passed I heard
a vehicle on the drove and shortly afterwards was surprised to see 4 men with
rods climb over the floodbank, they asked me if I had caught and I truthfully
replied nothing, I asked what they were fishing for and they informed me that
they were fishing for anything but would happily give me some live baits if
they caught anything. They then asked if any barbel were present in the water
which amused me as they obviously had little knowledge of the fenland drains.
They seemed quite rough, traveller types and bearing in mind that there were
miles of unoccupied drain either side of me I was a little disappointed when
they set up some 30 yards away. Unfortunately they were not very quiet and I
started to get a little agitated with the intrusion to my peaceful morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Salvation was to shortly arrive in the form of a dog walker
who approached my swim from the opposite direction to the anglers. He stopped
for a quick chat, overlooking the anglers upstream of me and asked if they were
foreign? I replied that they were
English and had only just arrived ,but they were making a racket and I was
considering a move. He then informed me that he had earlier in the week whilst
walking his dog seen an angler unhooking a pike weighing around 24lb in a swim
some 400 yards downstream, and gave me a landmark for swim identification.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I thanked him and
after weighing up the move for all of about a micro second decided to leave our
new found friends and had the rods and gear packed up and after wishing our
neighbours the best of luck for their session began the walk downstream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was our fourth swim of the morning and it was now about
11.30 the sun was high in the sky and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It was
warm and I was sweating buckets on arrival, quickly tearing off my cold weather
clothing and looking at the swim. The water in the drain was very clear and I
considered that our chances were very slim. To the right of the swim in the
nearside margin was a large overhanging tree, its branches were touching the
water halfway across the water, and an amount of debris had collected up
against the branches, it looked a good place for a pike to lie up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcsf0RAHyKHmZFmDV0UYEsQPGrISFkrkTacGKqV0VXAD063F0-6il4eVlNVjWlolr-iqoQtnN2V9Z_HaePXsALxmxrRmw3q7VL_IYZ_d4IzjrHnJqPlt_rE7FrLoxaCsE2Sv1S6Mon8Y/s1600/19lb+2oz+My+first+fish+from+the+water.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcsf0RAHyKHmZFmDV0UYEsQPGrISFkrkTacGKqV0VXAD063F0-6il4eVlNVjWlolr-iqoQtnN2V9Z_HaePXsALxmxrRmw3q7VL_IYZ_d4IzjrHnJqPlt_rE7FrLoxaCsE2Sv1S6Mon8Y/s1600/19lb+2oz+My+first+fish+from+the+water.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I gently under-armed a half mackerel as close as I dare and
was relieved to see the float and bait land unmolested by the spiders web of
branches right under the canopy and in the exact spot I wished for. I then cast
the other two rods into open water, one to the middle and the other to the far
bank. All three rods were then clipped up to audible back biters and I made a
mental note to myself that if one were to go I bet that it would be the one
under the tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My other half and I then lay on the floodbank with the sun
blazing directly on to us; it felt as though summer was just around the corner
it was so warm and pleasant. She put her head on my chest and content with the
world I began to dose and dream of the triumphant moment when I would finally
catch a fish weighing over 20lb’s from this challenging water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a while a high pitched noise interrupted my peace, for
a short while it seemed dreamlike before I realised this was no dream, the
noise was for real and in a moment, without consideration for my partner I was
on my feet to see that the float under the tree had disappeared and line was
peeling off the spool. Aware of the potential for problems due to the branches
and possible roots under the water I was on the rod in a flash and gave the
fish maximum side strain to try and get her out from under the tree, the rod
initially took on an alarming curve but the fish turned and was soon being
played in open water. I caught sight of her in the clear water and remarked
that I thought it was an upper double when suddenly the fish surged off with
alarming power taking braid from the tightly set clutch. And I thought to myself that perhaps she was
a little bigger. The fish soon began to tire and was pulled into the net that
Lynda had at the ready. Lynda tried to
lift the net from the water and couldn’t manage to. At this moment I realised that surely I had
my much longed for twenty from this water that I had struggled so much on. The
net was indeed heavy, the pike was laid out on the unhooking mat and the
trebles removed easily from her scissors.
She was then weighed and photographed. At 24lb 4oz she was at the time
my second biggest Fenland pike, a feeling of pure elation swept over me, and there
and then I asked Lynda if she would marry me? She agreed to but not until I had
caught a pike weighing 30lb. My enthusiasm for fishing had returned, but
unfortunately I had run out of season. Rather than wait and hope for the brace
it seemed fitting that we should wrap things up at 13.00 and celebrate over a
pint in a nearby pub whilst looking at the cased pike on the wall, a monument
as to the waters former glories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fish I has caught actually matched up to a photograph
that I had obtained of a 21lb 12oz pike caught earlier that season. It was the smaller half of the brace caught
by the angler, and I wondered if the 26lb fish that I also had a photograph of
would perhaps fulfil my dream of a 30lb pike and my lady’s hand in marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was at the time blissfully unaware of how much better
things would get over the next two seasons on the fishing front. The fish that
was at the time my first twenty from the water is now my third biggest from the
venue, and although I didn’t know it at the time it was to be the start of a
very productive period for me on other waters too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I keep my promise to Lynda? Well let’s just say I
returned from the jewellers several hundred pounds lighter the following week!
She seemed quite pleased when I said we would set a date when I catch my first
30, deep down I knew this might take many years to fulfil if at all, but I
wanted to tempt fate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The season came to a close, at a time when my motivation had
returned in full. My doubts about the
venue, and Lynda’s regarding my Pike
fishing prowess, were both vanquished, but I was to have to wait until the
following October before I could quench my now insatiable thirst for pike
fishing, and quench it I did, but that’s another story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the time of writing having achieved my long dreamed of
30+ pike I look forward to my wedding in a month’s time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklC6y3DeMIjYUrWLxdAhaAvWGDPMDrQLPLccFToVCeWpII1GLBpDf0KVwwEf6QHsEifAKuKqjz6lNmB5ioWfEv_us2nzO5l-R2DsWXAaH0T-y1t6xfkipwZ2jRZHRM3kzW3xYJ_jsXXA/s1600/Wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklC6y3DeMIjYUrWLxdAhaAvWGDPMDrQLPLccFToVCeWpII1GLBpDf0KVwwEf6QHsEifAKuKqjz6lNmB5ioWfEv_us2nzO5l-R2DsWXAaH0T-y1t6xfkipwZ2jRZHRM3kzW3xYJ_jsXXA/s1600/Wedding.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tying the Knot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having been divorced once due to my </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">love of pike fishing it
seems quite fitting that I will soon me marrying for a second time with pike
fishing having played a very significant and positive part.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since the time of writing the previous paragraphs Lynda and
I married on the 16<sup>th</sup> of August 2014 with several inspirational pike
anglers also being present for the wedding.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiJKVPUaJ8-t92A7vjnOrks4lA2M1Ii_z3_GZ73EWHK2Db34WHixDB0zSqCHDjKLbJ8lFsJQaJifu_uc41bkEZvHum91GZ7HEHGgO_PJ54N_lhci8hXXBiXUM-l94vgbUwZ8FnXJXXYsQ/s1600/Both+Getting+bigger.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiJKVPUaJ8-t92A7vjnOrks4lA2M1Ii_z3_GZ73EWHK2Db34WHixDB0zSqCHDjKLbJ8lFsJQaJifu_uc41bkEZvHum91GZ7HEHGgO_PJ54N_lhci8hXXBiXUM-l94vgbUwZ8FnXJXXYsQ/s1600/Both+Getting+bigger.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A moment shared</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Much of my fishing time currently is spent with our young
son Lucas who is showing much of his father’s enthusiasm. I no longer yearn for the day of my first
thirty, or indeed personal best. Preferring instead to concentrate on
developing my young apprentice’s enthusiasm for the sport, I look forward to a
time when he is desperate for his own pike fishing goals and they can be
accomplished together as father and son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After recounting this tale to a famous and accomplished pike
angler on the banks of Chew Valley Lake he replied ‘The Lord works in
mysterious way’s’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tight lines<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jonno</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jonathon Myles</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" o:spt="75" o:preferrelative="t"
path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f">
<v:stroke joinstyle="miter"/>
<v:formulas>
<v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"/>
</v:formulas>
<v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"/>
<o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"/>
</v:shapetype><v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" style='width:451.5pt;
height:688.5pt' o:ole="">
<v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\skilj\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.emz"
o:title=""/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OLEObject Type="Embed" ProgID="Word.Document.12" ShapeID="_x0000_i1025"
DrawAspect="Content" ObjectID="_1475644459">
<o:WordFieldCodes>\s</o:WordFieldCodes>
</o:OLEObject>
</xml><![endif]--></span>Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-81451648644809766412014-10-28T08:12:00.002+00:002014-10-28T08:12:17.767+00:00A Fish Called Fred<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9oUTDGO7OZYz-6d19ssAapoH3rkhEbIB0JZCvUMUirmLi-fQntNPM632Wt4XiVWnVmArLatiF_dSxQ98IgOs8KbVIaBV4kAuV6WS-nZ2KoDQgPzg1dmYtIOjXFUtf-wV09Rx3j2vNNU/s1600/20140928_130216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9oUTDGO7OZYz-6d19ssAapoH3rkhEbIB0JZCvUMUirmLi-fQntNPM632Wt4XiVWnVmArLatiF_dSxQ98IgOs8KbVIaBV4kAuV6WS-nZ2KoDQgPzg1dmYtIOjXFUtf-wV09Rx3j2vNNU/s1600/20140928_130216.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
My first outing of the unofficial Pike season, turned into
one I will remember for many a season and not because I caught a notable fish
or a PB, but because the pleasure of observation took over from the hunger of anticipation
normally associated with a days long awaited piking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With a disappointing pre season lure day on <st1:place w:st="on">Rutland</st1:place> behind me, the urge to get into dead
bait mode was strong, so for my season opener I decided to fish my local
reservoir, local meaning less than a mile from my front door. I hadn’t fished
the “Res” for a couple of seasons as the fish are generally small, although
plentiful, but reckoned it would be an easy way to get in the swing of things.
Albeit a trapped nerve in my shoulder was causing serious discomfort and had
precluded me from driving to the PAC convention.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The “Res” is bisected by a causeway, which carries the local
rail line, a tunnel joins the two areas of water and fish move freely between
the two, albeit that each area of water is distinctly different in appearance, bottom,
bank side vegetation and access.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The main "res" is a featureless basin with a sandy
bottom and an odd mussel bed and 50% of the banking comprises of steep pitching stones, with no tree cover and
it can be a wild and inhospitable place in any other than a slight breeze. The
“Little Res” however is totally different “kettle of fish” nice pun yeah?,
immediate access from the roadside, with plenty of tree and bush cover on two
sides, although the best pegs require packhorse and jungle skills to access.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had spent the weeks through, September getting all my piking
gear sorted and putting the kids bit bashing gear and my occasional carp gear
to bed. I ventured onto the small “Res” the Sunday before ‘D’ day for a
shakedown session, to be met with choking brambles, cow shit and had great
difficulty negotiating the route round to the side of the “Res”. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The level was a good 3ft down and much of the exposed bank was deep mud and the normal
path overgrown and passable. After sinking in mud up to my knee, I finally staggered
to the only accessible spot giving me access to an area of overhanging willows
flank of the "Res". I had decided to take with me three rods rigged up for float
ledgering – bad move. I quickly found that at the distance I wanted to fish
towards the willows that it was
difficult see and gauge the floats satisfactorily so I quickly replaced the
float rigs with ledger rigs and put two baits out a about 40 yards hard up against
the willows at 9-10ft deep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ended up with two jacks and had another four runs which resulted
in nothing, The trapped nerve was proving
painful and troublesome, but it was not going to get in the way of my ambitions.
I packed up early afternoon as I had other things to do and contemplated a more
organised “proper” session the following weekend – the first weekend of Pike
season proper!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The following Saturday, I
decided to make a recce, in anticipation of a Sunday session and ended up
clearing most of the jungle of brambles or as much as one guy with a dickey
shoulder, a pair of tree loppers and some secateurs could manage. Actually quiet
impressed myself!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So Sunday morning is arrived, “The Bus”, a Peugeot 806, already loaded with everything required and no more (3 dead bait rods). I
passed the water in the dregs of darkness at circa 6.45am and proceeded a
further ½ a mile to the local Maccy D’s for some breakfast.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A big u-turn and I am parked outside the gate to the small “Res”
and all quiet except for the sound of birds and the bait fish breaking the surface
on a still mirror of a surface.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gear out of the bus and on the bank and two trips round to my
spot, way much easier after my earlier jungle clearing activities.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By 8.00am I had three rods out with smelt, Joey and a large Mack
after removing its head. Despite my best planning I’d forgotten to pack a towel "doh!" ,but had a pack of faithful baby wipes. I lent down at the waters edge to
rinse of my hands and as I rose to upright, noticed a snout, a good double
fish, as little as 12 inches from where my hands had been in 8 – 10” of water!
As I rose in pleasant shock the fish turned and the water boiled, leaving cloud
of slit where it had laid. The strange thing is all my rod rest where out in
the water and I was paddling about whilst setting the backbiters and obviously
was unconcerned. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the next twenty minutes every time I moved I noticed a boil
and muddy cloud a few feet from my toes and assumed old Pikey was quiet happy
sitting at my feet. I rummaged in my bag for my Polaroid clip on's, as things
began to brighten up and “Fred” as I will refer to him could be seen clear as
day drifting in a out of the clear shallow patch at my feet. He looked a low
double and I was gripped by this close encounter, shame my camera couldn’t see
through the glare!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some minutes later my left hand backbiter sounded and I hit
a positive run, it was only a jack of about 6lbs but it gave a goods account of
its self, as it came towards the net I noticed that Fred was sat there bold as
brass at my feet, despite all the hullabaloo I was making. The jack tail walked
as came in towards the net straight over Fred who just moved gracefully out of
the way, but then turned and followed the jack to the net, for a split second I
honestly thought I was going to net two fish.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway the jack shed the hooks in the net, so it was quickly
back into the water and Fred appeared to have moved off. Not more than three minutes
passed and back he drifts into view, I toss the mackerel head that was lying
next to me, a foot from the edge and the remains of shredded Joey from the
encounter with the jack a further foot out. For the next hour Fred came and
went and swam over the free offerings and seemingly totally disinterested. By
this time I was focused on Fred’s comings and goings and the fishing seemed somehow
less important.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A little Kingfisher was screeching is shrill song as it
darted across the water and back and I started to think this is just awesome
day on the bank, just me, nature, almost hidden from the main road, just a
stones throw away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvfFEn6emttQTcYDoARu2iNlsJMkpfkoVyI3WP2-IO1yTNTn7dsHmk7dQEM3ESUdR6JcKpIvhdvsx0lV2F0J9PVVX4tCwbbLcZQwTyYOpzDhLaFEenVh9YsXonm9mIRDsZQ8H9OrMDLps/s1600/DSCF3955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvfFEn6emttQTcYDoARu2iNlsJMkpfkoVyI3WP2-IO1yTNTn7dsHmk7dQEM3ESUdR6JcKpIvhdvsx0lV2F0J9PVVX4tCwbbLcZQwTyYOpzDhLaFEenVh9YsXonm9mIRDsZQ8H9OrMDLps/s1600/DSCF3955.jpg" height="240" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a> Out of the gloom a
long shadow came into view heading for the Joey carcass, it glided by and swam
straight through between the bank sticks holding my left hand rod, I was
literally still as statue and holding my breath - non of this would have
visible were it not for the Polaroid’s! Fred circled round again and headed
right up to the Joey and with flared gill covers sucked in the Joey and chomped
on it a couple of times before casually sauntering off.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought I’d had my time with Fred and smile to myself with
deep satisfaction, but not fifteen minutes later and he was back! The Mack head had
got washed right in to the edge so I slowed leaned down and picked it out , he
didn’t flinch, I tossed out in front of
where I could see his snout. Sure enough maybe a minute later, he slowly moved
towards the Mack head and again with flared gills took the Mack and gave it a
good chomping, turned and moved out of sight. Surely this was goodbye Fred?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moments later my right hand rod screamed off and I got out
my chair and into the water to pick up the rod, as I did the middle rod went
too! Shit I thought, I hit the first and felt a couple of thumps and then
nothing, so put down the rod and hit the other, same again, two missed!!! Both
baits were ok so I recast the first and set the alarm, I was about to cast out
the other, when I noticed Fred not more than 3 ft from my toes, I hadn’t
thought of trying to catch him, we’d become “close” as I was so engrossed in
observing him and this unique (to me) prolonged close up behaviour.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With mixed feelings I succumbed to the urge and dropped the
half herring bait, I was about to recast, no more than two feet from the edge
in 10” of now somewhat cloudy water, although I could still see the odd shadow
and fin manoeuvring. I had the rod in my hand with a big bow of slack line over
the bait and almost immediately the line started to twitch and tighten, I hit
it immediately and the rod curved in a big arc as the fish powered off. It broke the surface, my heart
pumping and at such close range I could see it was a fish of around 15lb, it
gave one big shake of the head and fish and hooks parted. I was partly gutted
and part feeling guilty for having hooked the guy I had been quietly feeding
and observing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6ceJzr0U85peSXEJdMIggQw9t5opKzHFBMlvYxCBjQk1DSma8LtU38F0z5JnQvBmMuejAorq-w2wb9s335miXD8awTmCE9ok3R6VuHDQvUGu_0RgdV5Iqt1RftO7X9FaODs7HlEAFoQ/s1600/Fred.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6ceJzr0U85peSXEJdMIggQw9t5opKzHFBMlvYxCBjQk1DSma8LtU38F0z5JnQvBmMuejAorq-w2wb9s335miXD8awTmCE9ok3R6VuHDQvUGu_0RgdV5Iqt1RftO7X9FaODs7HlEAFoQ/s1600/Fred.jpg" height="231" width="320" /></a>I didn’t see Fred again during the session, although another
free offering disappeared whilst I wasn’t paying attention! I almost felt
relieved not now to be on tender hooks watching my old mate sniffing the toes
of my muck boots, but to capped it all off , the Kingfisher later came and sat
on the adjacent jetty and stayed there for a good fifteen minutes before I moved and flew
off screeching. I kicked myself for not bringing a decent zoom camera, only the
pocket canon for captures!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I packed up at 1.00pm having landed six jacks, lost another four before the net and had at least another six runs, but Fred was way uplifting than
counting runs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time I’d made two trips back the car the trapped
nerve in my shoulder was pounding and I was in significant discomfort, the wife
gave me no sympathy for going fishing, but I wouldn’t have missed such an awe
filled morning no matter how much the pain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Can’t wait for the next session, will take something special
to beat today – more to fishing than just catching fish!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pete Crisp Aka Crispy <st1:place w:st="on">PAC.</st1:place></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-39029581466270602902014-10-21T11:14:00.000+01:002014-10-21T13:06:25.569+01:00Dave Horton - One Good Deed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingwMqIvCmvNUPlGsX3essJMay_RBDC3uoEdP2RPEyt8hypkHqXyM9gCasf9mBICM6vm_WEqXhJA22CLWNhFSI7bQfSzonizaV692w9uMhi1I_zDjO1P19ZfSi3hMA1GYuOFRD3b3SoAM/s1600/img044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingwMqIvCmvNUPlGsX3essJMay_RBDC3uoEdP2RPEyt8hypkHqXyM9gCasf9mBICM6vm_WEqXhJA22CLWNhFSI7bQfSzonizaV692w9uMhi1I_zDjO1P19ZfSi3hMA1GYuOFRD3b3SoAM/s1600/img044.jpg" height="227" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 12.8pt;">I first shared this little tale through the pages of a small circulation
Irish Piking magazine (<i>An Luis</i>) back in the early 2000’s?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 12.8pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m hoping then that few if any of you will have read it already and
that it entertains you and fills a few minutes of your life’s as intended.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="line-height: 12.8pt;">I don’t know if it’s the fact that I have Irish blood coursing through
my veins (my father having been born and raised in Tipperary town) but the one
place in this world that find myself most comfortable and at home in is
Ireland. For many years now I’ve nurtured a dream that sees me
living somewhere on that beautiful Island and god willing one day I will! Here
and now though in the cold light of day and the stark reality of the present I
live on a somewhat different Island surrounded by people with whom I find
myself increasingly at odds with and the majority of whom I seemingly become
ever more detached from. Don’t get me wrong, I recognise the fact
that the common denominator in all my conflicts is me and that I can be a
difficult man but on the whole my brother man (</span><i style="line-height: 12.8pt;">and woman</i><span style="line-height: 12.8pt;">) disappoints me more
often than not and even if I am able to recognise and (</span><i style="line-height: 12.8pt;">slowly</i><span style="line-height: 12.8pt;">) accept my own
failings, it still doesn’t alter the fact that there are some who’s failings
are yet greater!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMte14cEBuu0uKXOaZMSnxFvYjl1-Je4esKo74ynWczoDMzDnTyVG1LKwN8yipwSslJ7u3g5FNkZ02Vy2auvvtK25_bD3I9r5AU1vnJJZEhgwoiTfCAioqQ2VgF40cRF24Zeq69uMRTu4/s1600/wye26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMte14cEBuu0uKXOaZMSnxFvYjl1-Je4esKo74ynWczoDMzDnTyVG1LKwN8yipwSslJ7u3g5FNkZ02Vy2auvvtK25_bD3I9r5AU1vnJJZEhgwoiTfCAioqQ2VgF40cRF24Zeq69uMRTu4/s1600/wye26.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here then is a Piking tale that contains considerable good and just a
little bad, that will I hope paint the picture more clearly to you of what I’m
getting at. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p>The story begins with me driving a couple of hundred miles across
country in the dark, in order to get a reasonable nights kip on a mates couch
(<i>Les Moses</i>) and wake just a short jaunt down to his local river in pursuit of
the awesome Pike it held! Forgive me for not naming the venue but
even with this passage of time I’m mindful of treading on the toes belonging to
those more local than myself. Some if not all of you will work out
the venue I’m referring to but at least I can say I didn’t tell you eh?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Previous ventures to the river had seen Les and I share multiple catches
of BIG Pike, with his best going over 28lbs and mine just a pound less. Confidence
then was high especially when the river conditions were at their optimum best
following flood conditions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’d first met Les (<i>a good, good man</i>) in the late 90’s when I’d been
asked to give a presentation to his local region of the PAC. Despite
being well versed at giving these presentations I don’t mind admitting that I
get a little anxious about giving them (<i>few of us like public speaking?</i>)
especially if I attend on my own (<i>please take note people I won’t be alone in
feeling that way</i>). Anyways, there I was, stood anxiously in a room
full of strangers, 150 miles from home in the late 90’s, when out of the crowd
emerged a stranger (<i>Les</i>) who was to become a friend for life with
his warm words of welcome, a kind smile and a pint!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Les, he won’t mind me saying so, is a bit of a scally wag which meant we
found common ground and empathy quickly. Even before we shared great
fishing and more than our share of bad times together we discovered that rare
natural understanding from which lasting friendship grows.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 12.8pt;">Anyways back to the story. It was about ten at night and a
tired Horton decided to pull into a motorway service station for a refuel and a
coffee. Parking the car up near to the Services entrance, my
headlights picked out a forlorn looking figure standing with an empty Petrol
can in his hand. Already starting to recognise an opportunity to
help someone I wandered over and enquired if all was well with him? “Not
really.” He started and proceeded to tell me how he was driving home
in his Van and had realised he’d left his wallet at work and was on the brink
of running out of fuel. Could he perhaps borrow a fiver to get him
to the next Services where he’d hopefully find another “generous soul” who
would maybe lend him another so that he might repeat the process until he made
it home. He would ofcourse take my name and address in order that he
could mail me the fiver back if I were good enough to help him? Blimey
this was my lucky day I thought to myself! This bloke really was up
shit creak and I was in prime position to help him! To cut a long
story short I gave not the £5 he was asking for but the £30 he’s need in order
to get home without stopping again and so that he wouldn’t have to suffer the
indignity of having to ask some other stranger to lend him some of their hard
earned cash – I even bought him a coffee and a pastry (<i>incidentally I’ve never
ever bought myself a pastry from a motorway services because I wouldn’t justify
the extortionate price of one for myself – but when I asked him if
he wanted anything it that which he pointed at and that which he got!</i>) so that
his little tummy might stop rumbling! Feeling pretty good about
myself, we shook hands warmly and parted company so that I might take a leak
and he’d go fill his van up with diesel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needing fuel myself I figured I’d see him at the pump too. Smiling
to myself and humming “Everything is beautiful” I drove down to the petrol stn
and was a little surprised not to see a van of any sort? Certainly
I’d been pretty quick and I doubted I’d missed him but somewhere deep inside me
stirred an uneasy feeling. NO! I wouldn’t allow myself to
think what I’d started to think and so I tried my best to shut it out! The
next couple of hours passed without event and eventually at about midnight I
pulled up at Les’s place. “You’re a little later than expected?” he said
and whilst making my apologies I related the tale of the poor fcuker I’d met at
the motorway services and how I’d saved the day. Les smiled wryly, at the
same time shaking his head and muttering as he left the room momentarily. When
he returned he furnished me with a local Newspaper already open on page 5 with
the bold headline “Motorway Services Petrol Scam!” I didn’t know
wether to laugh or cry when I realised that the very plausible “Paul?” that I’d
met some 100 miles or so earlier and had seemingly shown honest respect and
gratitude to the simple but kind man that had pressed 3 crisp tenner’s into his
hand and bought him a coffee and cake, had likely been little more than a
confidence trickster! Even faced with the mounting evidence I clung
to some desperate hope that Paul would honour our verbal agreement, stop my
already dwindling faith in humanity, restore my faith in myself for being able
to judge the good and bad in my brother man and mail me the money he said he
would to my place of work, the Fire Station. NO NO NO! I
simply refused to accept that I’d been mugged! I even tried to
console myself with the fact that I’d done something that made me feel good,
though I wasn’t sure I felt £30 good? I slept very little that
night and all too quickly morning was upon us with the ever cheery Les enthusiastically
waking me to begin the assault!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A hearty breakfast (<i>Les always looks after me</i>) and we were on our
way. As luck would have it another factor Les and I found in common
is that we both abhor early starts so it was gone eight before we were at waterside
and ready to launch the 10ft Ally boat we were to fish from.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The river was in fine fettle and was just as Les had predicted, only
just becoming fishable after being in flood for the best part of the
winter. Previous experience had proven this to be just about the
optimum time to fish for the rivers Pike. Today that would simply be
re-affirmed! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Les had in the past been a bit of Salmon ghillie and was first class at
positioning a boat in the most appropriate position to get the most from a
swim. The “plan” was to drift along one of the margins and take it
in turns to cast a bait to “Pikey” looking spots. Lives and
deads, cast into every nook and cranny, invariably solicit a rapid response
from any Pike that have taken up residence there and had proven to be very
productive on previous trips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We had only been fishing perhaps 15 mins and had presented baits in
maybe 4 or 5 swims when we happened upon the first really horny looking
one. We were taking it in turns to cast our baits into these often quite
restricted swims and it was Les’s turn to fish this particularly small
one. A perfectly positioned under arm plop saw les’s half pound bait
land exactly where he wanted it and within seconds it was taken. The
spirtited fight that ensued resulted in a fine looking fishing of about 18
lbs. Several hundred yards and half an hour or so later we came upon
a slack that was large enough for us both to fish. I dropped the
anchor and we both swung our baits out to fish perhaps 10 yards apart. We
had simultaneous takes, with mine being a tiddler that was easily dealt
with. Les though was into a much better fish that was taking line as
it headed upstream of our position. I’d just dropped my jack back in
when I witnessed Les’s BIG fish turn beneath the boat and throw the
hooks! A few quick words of consolation were offered whilst we both
quickly hooked fresh baits on and got them back out into the slack again. My
bait reached the tail end of the slack first and “plopped” under!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fight was similar, the outcome different as minutes later we were
weighing our first 20 of the day! A great start at 24lbs and we’d
only been out an hour. I’d love to say that the action was fast and
furious but in truth it wasn’t and rarely is on this particular venue. In
fact you can fish dozens of great looking swims and hundreds of yards on this
river and not get a sniff of a Pike and today was a case in point. It
was then a couple of miles and quite a few hours later that we encountered our
next BIG Pike with just a jack a piece to each of us in between.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 12.8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="line-height: 12.8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As luck would have it, it was my turn to drop a bait into this
swim and as is usually the case, if a Pike is present, the 6oz (the baits were
getting smaller) Roach was taken pretty much immediately. I wound
down hard and the rod wrenched in my hands as an obviously BIG Pike gave it
best for the initial few seconds before being bullied back towards the
boat. It was all over in a flash as the bait came flying back in a
sorry looking state for me to examine. The teeth marks were BIG and I felt the
despair only a fisherman who’s lost a whacker does!</span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 12.8pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The swim required a better look so we dropped the anchor and both got
our baits ready. Decent baits were running out so I mounted a dead
one of about a pound whilst Les stayed with his more moderate live one and we
both got them out into the slack. Both our baits made it unmolested
to the end of the slack but as I rapidly retrieved mine in order to clear Les’s
line, it was engulfed in a BIG swirl. This fish, like all her
sister’s on this river fought like a Demon and set off upstream at a rate of
knots against a not inconsiderable flow! This time the hooks held
and after the initial surge another mid 20lbs fish was bullied into the
net. A little BIGGER than the earlier one this fish weighed in at
25lbs 4oz (interestingly this fish had appeared in one of the Angling papers
some months earlier at a claimed weight of 32lbs and had been one I’d hoped I’d
bump into) and was ofcourse my 2<sup>nd</sup> twenty of the day. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A
few quick shots and a happy Horton sat back to take it all in. I had
a move in mind but Les had other ideas and what’s more he had my best interests
at heart too! “You cast out again Dave I think there might have been
two different fish down there?” Les offered. Well, I have
to admit I was convinced that both takes had come from the same fish and also
it should have been Les that was putting a bait through the swim. Les
though was having none of it and went on the explain his reasoning. “Go
on Dave you might catch a third 20 and after last night events I’d like to see
that!” With that I quickly hooked one of the remaining little live
baits back to the head of the slack. God it’s good to be wrong at
times! The take was a carbon copy of the first and the fight just as
spectacular but the weight was better still! At 26lbs this was our
last fish of the day and still remains one of my favourite days fishing ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmeJYnldUxjG_OpgEtcA-jcp_gyzMeT1ih7Lklw1y5cD5_rW2Kj5YVfVDK0ha1D7jdhyphenhyphenmz09kYav7r-2Jwvc4nyUy4IzXOY0bS4UQ3NTtIvGUFjpjBHmJ9MVYDmn8u4N3SUok9PzCeqzU/s1600/Dave+scan.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmeJYnldUxjG_OpgEtcA-jcp_gyzMeT1ih7Lklw1y5cD5_rW2Kj5YVfVDK0ha1D7jdhyphenhyphenmz09kYav7r-2Jwvc4nyUy4IzXOY0bS4UQ3NTtIvGUFjpjBHmJ9MVYDmn8u4N3SUok9PzCeqzU/s1600/Dave+scan.bmp" height="218" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.19999885559082px;">I’d love to finish on a high note but sadly I can’t for as I’m sure you’re probably guessed already? Old muggings here never did see his £30 quid again. Would I do the same again? Yes I most certainly would (</span><i style="line-height: 18.19999885559082px;">and have</i><span style="line-height: 18.19999885559082px;">) for I genuinely believe in the old adage “one good deed deserves another” (</span><i style="line-height: 18.19999885559082px;">fortunately so it seems does Les</i><span style="line-height: 18.19999885559082px;">) and I live in the belief that for every snake of a human there is out there, there’s at least one good man to balance them out?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.19999885559082px;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 18.19999885559082px;">Dave Horton</span></span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-49228777728658096502014-10-12T10:28:00.001+01:002014-10-12T10:28:11.739+01:00Is this what its come to?<div class="ecxyiv7837867793MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKwZdGmxSmXcF7lbXPyTa2Ufp5Sf3gPfsdvcpSzwOBq0LlAFLl27IOisqiPCQA46Ed1nRGuFYxDSRHrbJ6HkR4-L4jyMacZaMPo4Gm5viFh0OctmjKzT8pfgY1ldXujVo87sO9aqDyu1w/s1600/mine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKwZdGmxSmXcF7lbXPyTa2Ufp5Sf3gPfsdvcpSzwOBq0LlAFLl27IOisqiPCQA46Ed1nRGuFYxDSRHrbJ6HkR4-L4jyMacZaMPo4Gm5viFh0OctmjKzT8pfgY1ldXujVo87sO9aqDyu1w/s1600/mine.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;">Is this what its come to? Are other areas of the land experiencing the same levels of wanton destruction and ruin of once beautiful and peaceful pike fishing locations? My own favourite water which I have fished for the last 27 years is almost a no go zone now. </span></span></div>
<div class="ecxyiv7837867793MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 34.0800018310547px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 34.0800018310547px;">Weekend trips to this highland loch for me are now a thing of the past due to the moronic element who now frequent the place. I’d love to say that they are campers or dare I say trouties, but the sad fact is most of them are pike anglers and I use that term very loosely. And by my reckoning 99% of them are my fellow countrymen. They are at most guys who are having a jolly weekend away, cheap tents, lots of booze, inadequate tackle, inadequate experience and as you can see no regards whatsoever for others around them or the land they are on. Recently the chap who posted these photographs on a facebook page (</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 34.0800018310547px;">I will have a rant about this later</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 34.0800018310547px;">) was contacted by my joint RO of the Glasgow region to offer some assistance to try and curb this behaviour. </span></div>
<div class="ecxyiv7837867793MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj4876NM9Gz2CHfjkfSwXV0I3kVRRlIV2cS5WwxoAtoL9IGAvJGC1QYrRfrAmbzJQP9EWgzSZ5LKcCpf6mNHnmDsi9dkfqZh-KctJgvwqwHPI2Up1Eq8gFFtumhn7G6EJJrblTuTlIRis/s1600/rab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj4876NM9Gz2CHfjkfSwXV0I3kVRRlIV2cS5WwxoAtoL9IGAvJGC1QYrRfrAmbzJQP9EWgzSZ5LKcCpf6mNHnmDsi9dkfqZh-KctJgvwqwHPI2Up1Eq8gFFtumhn7G6EJJrblTuTlIRis/s1600/rab.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;">The good folk in charge of this loch run a pay on the bank system for permits and we have asked if they would entertain the idea of giving out flyers (<i>which we offered to help write up for them</i>) when collecting permit monies, outlining the rules of the water and what pike tackle is required to fish there, also the idea of placing permanent notices at access points around the loch has been forwarded to them and that we would gladly help out. I can only hope that something can be done as it really can’t continue as is. Now on to the fishing aspect of the water. Sad sights as in the photograph are all too common nowadays, and who is to blame? The pike in the pic is just under 20 lbs and why was it found like this? Was it killed by the fools who reckon that the cheap, buy it now pike set ups that you can buy for pennies are fine to use? Because “Yeh the guy in the shop says thats all I need” Are these shops going the extra step to ask if the folk buying these kits have any of the other essential pieces of tackle needed? Forceps, Side cutters, Nets, unhooking mats etc? And if they are not asking this, why not? Because it must be glaringly apparent that these folk are probably new to pike fishing. I, like many others have seen it all, from the runs that last 10 minutes whilst the guy is lying sleeping in the bivvy to the olde favourite of letting the 2<sup style="line-height: 28.399999618530273px;">nd</sup> run develop to help hook the fish. I had a run in with a group of guys who after netting a nice double proceeded to dump it on the bank and with boot on the pikes head try and rip the trace out. When I got there and unhooked it I asked what they were doing and I got “ I aint putting my hand in there, have you seen the feckin teeth on that” my answer was simple “Then why the feck are you fishing for them?” Now by my thinking it is not solely newcomers causing the troubles cos I’ve lost count of the amount of decent home made traces I’ve had to remove from fish, simply because the hooks are a bit deep. We all know that we shouldnt be deep hooking pike but with the best of intentions it does happen at times, but if any pikers who dont know how to deal with the situation please have a long hard look at your bite indication, go with someone who knows how to do it or simply stay at home. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6S7e8409fRhmKzY2HVBjgrzLbQkf_uJtaD8i2K_r9KaNlasIO8naYi2lly9zgua9w0T6w_Loshk2NHXnJJMC91eO2MhR1ynH8AtBWYE3hZdPzhN5HVN6qqF4G8mEQJcKumt-a1t1sZ08/s1600/davy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6S7e8409fRhmKzY2HVBjgrzLbQkf_uJtaD8i2K_r9KaNlasIO8naYi2lly9zgua9w0T6w_Loshk2NHXnJJMC91eO2MhR1ynH8AtBWYE3hZdPzhN5HVN6qqF4G8mEQJcKumt-a1t1sZ08/s1600/davy.jpg" height="230" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="ecxyiv7837867793MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;">My joint RO joint recently had 2 fish with traces cut off in them, not stomach hooked, merely at the back of the throat. Did the guys who caught them not have any long forceps? My mate had a 19 lber from the same water with 3, yes 3 traces in her stomach, all with the swivel cut off? Thankfully we were able to remove them and after a nice long recovery swam off strongly. So we now have the camping ban on Lomond, we have a Trossachs water which used to have great fishing on it, and is now more or less ignored by most of the decent pikers that used to fish it all because of the numpties or as they are known up here, Jimmies or Noddies. Where does it stop? When will it stop? Where do we draw the line? And what can we do? We can help by keeping an eye out, note car numbers down, phone and report these folk to bailiffs and police, help keep the waters tidy by cleaning up not only our mess but any others left around, I know we shouldnt have to but any little helps. Which brings me nicely on to a bugbear of mine, Pike Facebook Pages. Now not all of them are bad, some have decent chaps running them and try and stamp out or educate the noddy element. We all know them, beachcaster or spinning rod on one rest , golf ball on a hook hanging from the line as an indicator, putting up photos of nice fish ,standing up over nice sharp rocks with fish held in one hand. I used to leave a polite reply along the lines of “nice fish mate but maybe a good idea to hold the fish low down with both hands, oh and invest in a mat when you can” this usually gets the reply of “who do you think you are? The pikin polis?” Well yes,if that what you want to think then I am, I am a pikin polis as we all should be cos its a battle that needs to be fought every time we encounter it. Finally on to my all time favourite facebook rants. Naming waters, swims, showing photos of exact locations etc. When AGAIN pointing out the downfall of this practise the usual response is “ I dont see the problem ,everybody knows about it anyway” yes of course eveyone knows , but by broadcasting it and putting photos up it just highlights the fact that it is fishing well and lo and behold more Jimmies and Noddies appear to add more unwanted pressure on the fish we all know and cherish, they just don’t seem to grasp this simple fact. I am often asked why the PAC? What do they do for me? My thinking is rather than look for what I get from them is to what I can do for them, and just hope that maybe just one of my rants, fights, swearing at folk on forums might just sink in and make them think. Both PAC and PAAS are fighting the battle to keep our sport and dreams alive, and I for one thank them for it.</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybK6bwwUSzE0eO8Y7GvRcA04FwlZazii9LfgN7bc92ceazMoq1ooJrxBiMg7eEZKKN75RjB9M3XeuQJ3CK6Zrn4FvFvkw0qS0y-dUpt4pQY5PSYltT512StxUPVu4XYYQFtYqgQY6zuw/s1600/chris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybK6bwwUSzE0eO8Y7GvRcA04FwlZazii9LfgN7bc92ceazMoq1ooJrxBiMg7eEZKKN75RjB9M3XeuQJ3CK6Zrn4FvFvkw0qS0y-dUpt4pQY5PSYltT512StxUPVu4XYYQFtYqgQY6zuw/s1600/chris.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="ecxyiv7837867793MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="ecxyiv7837867793MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;">Ok, rants over, deeep breath and relax. So is it all doom and gloom up here? I’d say no, there are still plenty of beautiful waters, off the beaten track places, places that may require a long drive but are worthwhile for the sheer majestic unspoiled lochs which Scotland is famous for. There is still good fishing to be had in these places, our region (RA105) although a small membership has done reasonably well since the start of the year with over a dozen 20s caught and 2 members finally getting their 1<sup style="line-height: 28.399999618530273px;">st</sup> 20 after years of trying ,especially Rab Allen . I think he has been after one for 103 years :-) They are out there. So after all this , is it still worthwhile to have a wee jaunt up here? Nope, stay away, no pike left, its a total waste of time.................</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxyiv7837867793MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 34.08000183105469px;">John Evans</span></span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-85276551578516388482014-09-05T13:28:00.002+01:002014-09-05T13:28:12.374+01:00Black & White & Fuzzy Edges<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEGO7atbfcwVeMgCqT0Eaffy9Eus1kK5LYObOd3qz0ubkrtXrsMXdbcHBLhbcR2fQO-ia_lErbAtuosr5VJjlEjljqPRHKY2d8wxqcRucHw2wG9kN_t3uTh6lifiHnm1zUI3HPCmdgpeQ/s1600/IMG_0524_(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEGO7atbfcwVeMgCqT0Eaffy9Eus1kK5LYObOd3qz0ubkrtXrsMXdbcHBLhbcR2fQO-ia_lErbAtuosr5VJjlEjljqPRHKY2d8wxqcRucHw2wG9kN_t3uTh6lifiHnm1zUI3HPCmdgpeQ/s1600/IMG_0524_(1).JPG" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
In a world of increasing unrest and increasing uncertainty there has to be a pressure cooker release valve for us individuals who seek one. The overcrowded nature of things could drive me to drink and drugs while reading and listening to the world order of stuff. <span style="font-size: 10pt;">A dorsal fin breaking water, a mass of bubbles, the big splash in the distance and resulting water rings breaking the oily calm. The sound of running water in and around your feet or surrounding the beam of the angler’s boat. The sounds of early morning and late evening as all around us comes alive, oblivious to the angler hidden and nested awaiting for the float to bury or the tip of rod to bounce or even that horrible man made shriek of electronic alarm.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
Big fish or little fish, swimming in the water are oblivious to the world order of things. But perhaps the predator underwater world order is only majorly disturbed by other predators. Otters have certainly disturbed the natural order of things though their unnatural and fast spread across our inland waterways during the last ten short years. Any self respecting big pike will need to adapt to avoid an otter out running and out gunning our pikes natural short burst of speed. I hang on to the hope that the senses of our pike can smell the oily otter territory and holt or at least be on red alert when the danger of this critter is close. When roving the banks of my rivers I always look out for otter droppings, these are often left on the overhanging base stumps of willow trees and are green/brown and often a bit shiny in appearance when fresh. If you really feel inclined to test their freshness, have a sniff and they smell just like a fishmeal carp boilee. It’s worth a look out as fresh droppings equal zero pike on that bank and you are completely wasting valuable fishing time in the area. I know of a water with a population of otters surrounding a big pike. This pike has amazed me with her ability to still be around, she has been seen this summer alive and kicking and I’ll not be disturbing her as she has enough to worry about without the man made disturbance of capture and a day or two sulky recovery from lactic acid overload and tooth ache to add to her surrounding vulnerability.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDjjZ_0cvdCRZi72dtpfmKghE4gMjBYd92qLrxvvzuuKF3QDYIn3pRG6dhdAGmJ-zWSO_DflnWMsVEehrrlgjqQYv4tAGSCHGRnWARlpqo6wtEQUBJhajeYSEBRh5S2reEiup49hoqiGA/s1600/IMG_0435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDjjZ_0cvdCRZi72dtpfmKghE4gMjBYd92qLrxvvzuuKF3QDYIn3pRG6dhdAGmJ-zWSO_DflnWMsVEehrrlgjqQYv4tAGSCHGRnWARlpqo6wtEQUBJhajeYSEBRh5S2reEiup49hoqiGA/s1600/IMG_0435.JPG" height="170" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
I kinda have a love/hate relationship with cormorants. There do appear to be less of them around on the waters I fish, than say 15 years ago. I well remember watching a group of around thirty of them feeding one early morning on a welsh river. Up and down they dived, feeding in formation and more often than not surfacing with a decent dace to be gulped down quick smart before diving again. As an angler it was heart breaking to watch. After having their fill, during an hour of feeding I wondered how in the aviation world of mechanics and design they actually managed to get off the water and fly back to their favored white, self excrement covered branches. The first year that Chew opened up for us, in fact on the second day, Big Dave and I lost count at three hundred cormorants up in the trees on Denny Island as we headed towards Stratford. Our hearts sank, we’d seen this during the early 90’s on our local Chichester pits where a decent pike would be a big double looking like lizard thing. How wrong we were, over 100x20’s came out on Chew that day and all as fat as you like! These days they are still around on the rivers I fish, but more often than not feeding solo or in two’s. Perhaps a couple of generations of cormorant bother has seen the DNA of prey fish coping with the big group feeding of the cormorant and the big black oily bird has adapted by feeding more solo or moved back to improving in-shore waters. These birds certainly give us a pointer towards prey fish location and I’ve often moved sticks to areas where I have seen cormorants feeding and found pike and in particular zander not too far away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
Talking about improving waters, across all the different rivers I fish, fry survival has been great over the past ten years. Silver fish populations have fared pretty well as the match weights demonstrate or my own cack handed bait snatching sessions prove. I don’t think it is any coincidence that the well published demise of our eel population has contributed greatly to this. In the late 90’s and early 2000’s eel bother when fishing was all part of the game. I can well recall having to pack up barbel fishing on many a sultry summers evening with swims a heaving mass of the wriggly things. Having plenty of eel sections in the bait freezer was taken for granted back then. A mass of eels will have had their fill of eggs on the shallow spawning grounds of our rivers, keeping fry survival low in tandem with large groups of cormorant feeding. In 1999 I reported to the EA that I’d seen hundreds of dead eels rotting on the bottom of the welsh river on a close season canoe paddle trip. The old bailiff on the Royalty had reported the same on the Hants Avon. Something bad was obviously occurring to mature eel populations and a few years forward the eel was in real danger, or so we were told. Bang ! , last year saw the biggest reported elver populations on my rivers for a couple of generations. I witnessed the amazing sight of 10,000’s of elvers running up a small feeder river close to my home, the small bridge where they could be seen in elver soup became a local viewing attraction for a few days. This year eel bother during zander fishing has become the norm again, so not only have the elver population returned big time but the more mature bootlace – 2lb eel population have appeared again too. Interesting and I’ve not a scooby doo idea as to why. I kind of expect fry survival to demise again over the next ten years in tandem with increasing eel numbers, hopefully some decent big river roach fishing will result as good current populations thin out and get bigger. Decent big river roach fishing has been very scarce for a decade or more so I look forward to that very much in the future as my bones get older and a nice comfortable roach swim will be the order of the day. It’s all about cycles and the anglers who have been kicking around for a good while, year in year out, will get a feel of what is happening on their waters and take advantage of the tip of the cycles for whatever species are at their peak sizes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68rJl2oZTAmuvPRVmbtFcbW742hQwKQiukrpXknGkQVwDoCNvsydMPIu-3pgNckLK-VxssoQ2Vu7bvQODN67PjPf3cgjmWE3ebNYLss4yyRU6bS_Sioo7WH3YQXBQ_PS4VR9Ho00fJdU/s1600/17.02_073_(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68rJl2oZTAmuvPRVmbtFcbW742hQwKQiukrpXknGkQVwDoCNvsydMPIu-3pgNckLK-VxssoQ2Vu7bvQODN67PjPf3cgjmWE3ebNYLss4yyRU6bS_Sioo7WH3YQXBQ_PS4VR9Ho00fJdU/s1600/17.02_073_(4).jpg" height="247" width="320" /></a>Apart from mankind’s ability to effect water quality, the biggest predator with an influence is naturally us the angler. For all the repeat captures reported there are equal losses from poor angling practices, handling and fish ending up in Tesco carrier bags and as we know our quarry ain't no carp in the ability to survive and thrive on human intervention. Angling pressure in my experience does affect fish behavior and I’ve never agreed with the pike anglers who state pike catching is all down to times and moon phase. Natures push and pull obviously has a big influence and we all know there are windows of time when everything comes together perfectly allowing fish to be caught fairly easily when they are directly in front of us and that fact is not exclusive to predator fishing. Too many times however I’ve seen pressurized fish follow and worry decent live baits and not grab them, when on the very same day in a different place the float would be buried time after time with fish on the mat the end result. It’s no coincidence that at the end of the pike dates on Chew many of us report dropped pick- ups that three or four weeks earlier would likely have resulted in a fish on the boat mat. It’s during these pressurized more finicky times when blending into the background becomes important. Not joining the carp world completely in the disguise of rig and line but thinking about what may be seen underwater by a big fish that has seen it all in the past should be a consideration. There’s nothing more finicky than zander at the best of times, add a dose of angling pressure and converting pick-ups becomes an even greater headache. I’ve always believed that these really big predators in our natural waters are the Queens of their domain and no happening or event underwater escapes their senses. They haven’t survived and grown on to a great size over a decade or more without being in some way smarter than their surrounding compatriots. Perhaps it is luck, if that is the case, they certainly make their own luck. Stealth on the bank and equally on the boat can be the difference between a blank day or driving home with a smile on your face. Too many anglers are too ferking noisy for my likening and I’ll often shout over and tell them so before upping sticks and moving on! Disturbing the peace should be a red card offence and the noisy angler banned for a month, with repeat offenders sentenced to a life of fishing any old puddle full of stunted F1’s. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;">
Thanks for reading my scribble and Play Up Pompey !</div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-17681405888703637552014-08-29T08:25:00.001+01:002014-08-29T08:25:56.397+01:00Targets, milestones and a deformed carp<div class="Standard">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2oq47XcQlCtOEors_MetzJF2gjYT0Ws0Nlf5PMgvUsAprfBt_6yWy-XFXkdpgj00IrcEAy13vKC3EBg7oz3xxRV7hBzVe-OKrSiphuAOf4x6OlHukAgtjbSTTV161BWAyWGVIPeAc0Xk/s1600/20140301_170046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2oq47XcQlCtOEors_MetzJF2gjYT0Ws0Nlf5PMgvUsAprfBt_6yWy-XFXkdpgj00IrcEAy13vKC3EBg7oz3xxRV7hBzVe-OKrSiphuAOf4x6OlHukAgtjbSTTV161BWAyWGVIPeAc0Xk/s1600/20140301_170046.jpg" height="263" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Last season (2013-14) was a good season for me, I reached some
targets I had been aiming for, caught fish from new venues and generally enjoyed
the winter campaign.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
My season though did start off slowly, October was the
hardest fishing I had experienced that time of year with just four fish coming my
way, a poor return for the effort put in. </div>
<div class="Standard">
I had become jaded with fishing my
same old venues and new ones had to be sought out, and this is where I owe a
huge amount of gratitude to both Denis Moules and Jonno Myles let me explain. I had my eye on a drain out in the middle of nowhere for a while, but apart
from the odd chuck with a lure I hadn't really fished it, and on the odd
occasion I had looked at it, it looked uninspiring with no signs of life.
However, after talking to both Den and Jonno, it transpired it was worth
fishing, so mid November saw me making my way over for my first proper go
on the place.<br />
I had planned to only fish the morning and then go else where in
the afternoon. Upon arrival the sun was just starting to creep up and the sky
was fire red, it really did look like a scene from lord of the rings. There was
a nice breeze blowing down the drain putting a nice ripple on the slightly
coloured water, but the drain had been pumped off, still my hopes where high, a quick
cast around found 3-4 foot of water, so out went three baits; a sardine, a bluey and
a herring.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzKTVRTjIUc1rZ3UHhVkDIXMPGWZW0ejDP0Pc_jHzCb3XjoL8jCezwur-sKBgqKVO6_wtou_jP_UlX7gJrdE2DrJ0Y6kBwZVjTsAZ34Zpu2fCeRpiJ5P1C8aL2P_GhONE-vKdN4NWmnQ/s1600/DSC_0508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzKTVRTjIUc1rZ3UHhVkDIXMPGWZW0ejDP0Pc_jHzCb3XjoL8jCezwur-sKBgqKVO6_wtou_jP_UlX7gJrdE2DrJ0Y6kBwZVjTsAZ34Zpu2fCeRpiJ5P1C8aL2P_GhONE-vKdN4NWmnQ/s1600/DSC_0508.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a>The first action arrived after about 15 minutes, a bloody swan
giving me nice clip out take, after recasting I sat back down only for the
recast bait to be on the move again and a low double was the culprit, a good
start I thought. Things went quiet then after, so I then slowly moved down the drain, and not long after moving my half bluey was off and a nice, immaculate mid double
was landed.<br />
<br />
A quick picture was fired off and back she went and I recast, not
long after recasting the bluey was away again and upon striking I knew it was a
better fish, the fight though was unspectacular and soon a large framed pike
was in the net, scrambling up the bank I had a feeling the fish was going to be
close to twenty, luckily the scales confirmed she was well over twenty coming
in at a shade under 23lbs, pictures done and she was released (more of this
fish later), another mid double completed my morning on the drain and |I left
knowing I would be back. The afternoon was much quieter but right on darkness a
brace of mid doubles completed a fantastic day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
November was a turning point in my season where fish started
to come with some regularity and it was nice to get back into catching pike
after a summer of carp and bass fishing.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
As we edged into December I had a look back through my
fishing records, though I only record pike over 10lbs and I noticed that I was
getting ever closer to one hundred doubles in 2013 so decided for the rest of the month
to push myself to try and achieve this, though numbers are not important to me
it is nice to hit little milestones like this. Anyway despite a lot of effort
put in, I finished up just short on ninety seven, not that I was complaining, it had been
a fantastic year.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
At the turn of the year another milestone crept into view,
one which I was desperate to reach, as it stood I was on seventeen, twenty pound plus
pike and I was thinking that maybe making it to twenty, twenties was a realistic
target for the remaining part of the season.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
January started off well with a few nice doubles coming my
way, including a couple from a new estate lake I tried, I also managed to add
another twenty to my list, so it was a case of one down, two more required to reach
my goal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
February started off much the same as January, plenty of
doubles coming to my rods up to 19lbs, so bloody close I thought but not quite
close enough. It was the end of February and I hadn't managed to add another
twenty to my list and was starting to think it would be next season that my
target was reached, but on my last trip of the month the only run of the day
turned out to be my nineteenth twenty, its back on I thought.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
March I have always found to be a strange month for piking,
sometimes it was be fantastic and at other times it can be dam infuriating,
specially if you can see the pike and they steadfastly refuse the bait. Anyway
March found me back down the drain where I visited in November, it was bloody
cold, the drain was very, very low, my baits sitting in about 2 and a half feet
of water, today I had bought a bucket of lives with me and I'm glad I did as the
float on my ledgered live bait rod indicated the tell tale sign of a take, line
out the clip and a swift strike and I knew it was a big fish, after a lot of
plodding up and down the drain the fish was soon beaten and into the net she
went, I instantly recognized the fish, it was my twenty from back in November,
and it had been only a couple of weeks since I had last seen her on the bank,
that time to someone else. I therefore knew she was still over twenty so didn't
bother putting her through the stress of weighing or photographing, I unhooked
her in the net in the water and then let her go. It then dawned on me I had
reached my target, it had been a truly brilliant season.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
The river season ended and my mind instantly turned to some
gravel pit piking while it was still cold enough, however I only had until the
end of March to fish the pit, the wildlife trust where now enforcing the rule
that the lake closed to anglers on the last day of March to allow the birds to
nest in peace, though they still allowed jet and water skiers on, with the huge
wake the create washing away many nests was quite frankly ludicrous, but that
was out of my hands.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
A few fish came my way upto 17lbs which seems to be about the
ceiling weight for the fish in the venue, I was hoping to snare a bigger fish
before they spawned, but alas that didn't happen. The end of March came and that
was it, a fence was erected to stop anglers accessing the lake and we could
only watch on as the jet skiers caused havoc on the place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
April was spent mostly on the north Norfolk coast bass
fishing, something that I have started to enjoy, there where a few trips to an
estate lake thrown in after the pike but all was quiet on the front and only a
low double was caught.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr3zQNdsvdiPXxeVUNhFpvSv8hOWnbtgMgABtQBZcX-3hAVbhSk63LvRvLwVZ6O4y_6X9ukMJpmpN2yXk1SjnFaR7jVZ0mi7v9K7eJrOMXs1DyeGaJrA1QlHptKlp5j-m3BDY15H7iOW8/s1600/20140713_220713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr3zQNdsvdiPXxeVUNhFpvSv8hOWnbtgMgABtQBZcX-3hAVbhSk63LvRvLwVZ6O4y_6X9ukMJpmpN2yXk1SjnFaR7jVZ0mi7v9K7eJrOMXs1DyeGaJrA1QlHptKlp5j-m3BDY15H7iOW8/s1600/20140713_220713.jpg" height="261" width="320" /></a>Into May the bass fishing finally started to pick up and a
few decent fish started to come my way, fish upto 3lb where caught and though
not big by national standards it was a new PB for me, and then a new species of
sea fish appeared for me in the shape on both common smoothhound and starry
smoothhound, these fish certainly give a good bite, the rod literally folding
in half as they move of with the bait and then, once you get them close in
really go for it in the breaking waves, you really do have to be aware and I
was pulled off balance by them during the fight such is the power they have.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7Ydu9Gj0com3_1NHCDbrLhYE6ThUBHJQFoUcANuIWA-Tb9NVG4LP98oGkCvEjYhYVDntMrZh0DNxw2QgWp_lqhxnEJ-CH2MXBNFAeXxD6oMJ_AdJK9VQ1iyxfyoHEujyDPW5a8GUFQg/s1600/DSC_1402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7Ydu9Gj0com3_1NHCDbrLhYE6ThUBHJQFoUcANuIWA-Tb9NVG4LP98oGkCvEjYhYVDntMrZh0DNxw2QgWp_lqhxnEJ-CH2MXBNFAeXxD6oMJ_AdJK9VQ1iyxfyoHEujyDPW5a8GUFQg/s1600/DSC_1402.JPG" height="221" width="320" /></a>Into June and carp started to occupy my mind so I decided to
use my redundancy money to join a new lake just down the road from me in which
I had seen some big carp when I had walked around it only a few days before.
The first day was roasting hot, I didn't have a lot of confidence, not being a
carp angler, not knowing a lot about the lake, and having as it transpired shit
bait meant that the odds where firmly stacked against me. Around early
afternoon I was thinking of packing in, I hadn't caught, I was getting severely
sunburnt and I wasn't enjoying it to much, at that moment my micron screamed off
and a carp had been daft enough to hang itself on the end of my rig, due to the
weed I had to fish a fairly tight clutch to try and stop the burying itself in
the weed, as it happens with the fish that I was attached to it was necessary
to fish tight as rather predictably my carp had to be deformed to such an
extent I was surprised it could even swim! That explained the lack of fight, I'm
sure it spun in the water when I was reeling it in. Still a carp was a carp and
at about 16lb it wasn't a bad first fish, later in the day I added another of a
similar size, though at least the second one resembled a carp! A few more carp
came along over the next few visits, including my bloody deformed one again,
but it was starting to get a bit to predictable for my liking, and with the
river season just starting my minds was turning to a zed or two.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
I hadn't caught a zander off the fens since August 2012,
despite putting many hours in for them during the summer and autumn of 2013,
runless blank followed runless blank that season and I could work it out, but I
started the new season with optimism, the first trip though ended in a blank,
as did the second and the third and I was starting to get the feeling of deja
vu. On the fourth trip things got off to a bad start, we couldn't catch any
bait, and then it tipped it down and we where soaked through immediately,
bloody summer showers. We managed to somehow fluke a few skimmers and rudd so
off we went, half way to our intended spot I changed my mind, I had a feeling
about another spot and after a quick detour and neatly having a head on with a
tractor with arrived to find it deserted, good we thought. Out went the baits
and that's when it started, beep.....beep.beep....beeeeeeeep.....strike.....fucking
eels! Over and over again this happened and my 11.30pm I was sick of it a ready
to go home......Beep......Beeep...Beeeeep...fuck sake I thought I was so annoyed
I wandered to the rod, line was out of the clip, baitrunner was going in fits
and bursts, another bloody bootlace...pick up the rod and start reeling in, I
just winched in whatever was on the end, I didn't know what it was until in the
glow of the headlight when a large looking zander appeared next to me fe'et, I
went into panic mode, the fish was just on one treble right on the end of the
mouth, my mate wasn't ready with the net and I was sure it was going to come
off, it looked big in the water and I had already accepted its escape. God
smiled on me though and the treble somehow stayed in and a quick scoop with the
net and she was ours. We gave her a breather in the net and then weighed a
photographed her, she came in at just under 9lb but looked all the world like
she was bigger, though she was quite empty. We slipped her back and job was
done, nearly two years since my last fen zander and I was over the moon.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxZbwCWxuM6uk1iiY2j-UAtkW3rDFjEC-_oKIJNuXgBDkzS2mYxjQDq5RNMS3hIV0cqV7noUkPg1BpEFC_s59tspg9rxUlWBcIVGb2Uhnr7R74_7aJipSbM0sGA0Vc2KFfaJy8pj4eUI/s1600/20140628_000947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxZbwCWxuM6uk1iiY2j-UAtkW3rDFjEC-_oKIJNuXgBDkzS2mYxjQDq5RNMS3hIV0cqV7noUkPg1BpEFC_s59tspg9rxUlWBcIVGb2Uhnr7R74_7aJipSbM0sGA0Vc2KFfaJy8pj4eUI/s1600/20140628_000947.jpg" height="249" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
The last few weeks have been quiet on the fishing front for
me, a few more carp have been caught but the zander are playing their usual
hard to catch selves, though I didn't fish for them during the really hot spell
so trips have been very limited.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Now its just time to start preparing for my winter pike
campaign, bait has started to trickle into the freezer, new waters have been
marked on maps for exploration and already one new drain has been lure fished
and confirmed pike are present, new job started, car bought so now its just
waiting for the weather to turn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Tight lines all for this winter.<o:p></o:p></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-10940721661688248012014-08-20T15:09:00.000+01:002014-08-20T15:09:00.566+01:00Life Changing & New Beginnings<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">t all started back in the early 90’s at about the age of 8 when I saw
some minnows in a small burn in Blantyre where I grew up. Computers to me were
nothing more than the old Sagas and the Internet was not even known to us, we
climbed trees and went on adventures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not knowing anything about fishing and having a pretty
useless father who didn’t teach me any of this, I came up with the idea that a
bit of old wood and the thinnest bit of gut from an old guitar nailed on to the
end would be a good way to start.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being pretty proud of my accomplishment (<i>I loved making
crazy useless crap out of other useless crap I could find as a kid</i>) I headed
down to this little burn with my homemade minnow catcher and some bread, I quickly realising I needed hooks.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A
quick granny knot on the end with a bit of bread pinched on would have to do, I
suppose I thought the knot would act as a sort of gorge rig, not that I knew
about gorge rigs but it’s funny how our minds work like that.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was later gratified by my inventive little mind as a
minnow clamped on to the bread and as I lifted it out of the water, still hung
on to the bread, but every one of them soon fell off before I could grab it.
Still, I was pleased with the result, but soon got bored of it and it wasn’t till a
few years later that I saw a white Shakespeare starter kit in a corner shop
window. I begged my Mum for it and she eventually gave in a few weeks later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With the new starter kit in hand and not a scooby of how to
use it I headed down to the weir at the David Livingstone memorial park.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcGxVOGaimnBd2wAb_2FQnuJXwiP-wpgk9KuoCEDJmU7R4ytD-gf48JIft9jvxneS3tPZcbooLN05JiknLEaKzKc1qpY0x17nes4gVdmbSUpTCHGvnJ2Y2uSyAi616r0dKziRGx7dOQw/s1600/blantyre-weir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcGxVOGaimnBd2wAb_2FQnuJXwiP-wpgk9KuoCEDJmU7R4ytD-gf48JIft9jvxneS3tPZcbooLN05JiknLEaKzKc1qpY0x17nes4gVdmbSUpTCHGvnJ2Y2uSyAi616r0dKziRGx7dOQw/s1600/blantyre-weir.jpg" height="215" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I met a few people
who gave me pointers, but looking back now I think they knew just about as much
as I did at the time. They said “just cast out the trebles the flash from it
might get you a pike” so that’s what I did, with no bait I might add.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As expected I did not catch anything and casting out just a
single treble attached to what might have been 8lb mono was, well, pathetic to
say the least. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Someone told me I needed lead weights which were not
included in the starter kit. Now remember I said I like making stuff ?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well I wouldn’t recommend this even to adults never mind a
10 year old! But I managed to find those balance weights from car tyres, but
that wasn’t good enough that I had found them, I didn’t ‘Make them’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I went back home, looked in my box of junk and found one of
those little metal football keyrings. I pulled it apart and filled one with
little pieces of lead and preceded to fire up my Dad’s camping stove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So now I have a lump of lead, but how do I attach this to the
line, I know, I'll hammer a nail through it to make a hole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next day I headed out with my lead weight and starter
kit with a treble. It wasn’t long before it got snagged and I lost my entire rig.
Fed up with that I resorted to catching frogs in one of the stagnant puddles
near the weir.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I got home with my new pet I figured he needed a pond
so I dug a hole in the back garden, lined it with bin bags which were held in place
around the edge with bricks and filled it with water. My Mum was not pleased at
all but she just had to live with it as that’s how I rolled back then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few days later I went out to find the frog, but it had gone and my Uncle thought it a good idea to joke that he'd seen him pack his bags and hop away saying he wanted a bigger house, twat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A week later I was made to tidy the back garden and to my
horror found my little frog, disemboweled I assumed by Jock who cut the grass a
few days before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By that time I had totally given up on the fishing until
another few years later my Mum thought it was a good idea for my brother to take me
down to the Clyde for an overnight camping/fishing session.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Really wishing she hadn’t, as my brother, a teenager now with
other ideas on his mind (<i>boozing</i>) as it was, it one of the worst experiences of my
life he was so pished he knocked over the stove and frying pan, which saw the
sausages rolling all over the sand, no way was I eating that!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought it best just to go into the tent and try to make it through to the next morning. Morning came and I was glad to be getting the hell out of
there, but before we went home we tried another bit of the river and my brother
caught a small eel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCgduKOjd2hCLeZEFTdujYf7W6qpBOGz5HxB8pOxlTBSlgA4U1IHIMtvvInPyPJr4umFK_KZ3j99CdCaIFKzTnHPtns52JFlCHc3_vsEuM_EEK0O6-VCQ4t_7u4TDvbLMYMbPTEPlS_4/s1600/forth_and_clyde_canal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzCgduKOjd2hCLeZEFTdujYf7W6qpBOGz5HxB8pOxlTBSlgA4U1IHIMtvvInPyPJr4umFK_KZ3j99CdCaIFKzTnHPtns52JFlCHc3_vsEuM_EEK0O6-VCQ4t_7u4TDvbLMYMbPTEPlS_4/s1600/forth_and_clyde_canal.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me being a bit of a weird child took it home, it had died, but that didn’t matter it was a cool looking thing and it stayed in the back
garden until my mum got mad and told me to get rid of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So that was it, I was scared of fishing for about 10 years
thanks to my brother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2000 we moved to Glasgow and at the time it
didn’t occur to me to try and fish the Forth & Clyde canal that could be
seen from the kitchen window.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With no job prospects I took to keeping myself entertained
by drinking, which promptly became a problem. I would drink almost every day and
stay on the old yahoo chat rooms annoying people and writing software to
interfere with the chat protocol and crash peoples computers, It was crazy, the
buzz you would get from making about 40 peoples computer freeze and crash was
hilarious, even funnier was seeing them all return wondering what had happened.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By 2005 the drink problem had got considerably worse and the
last straw was after drinking two and a half bottles of buckfast and not
remembering anything apart from the odd flash back now and again of trashing
the house, enough was enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked out of the kitchen window in deep thought and
looked at the canal and thought to myself “I need to get out of this house, I
need to do something, these four walls are driving me crazy, if I don’t, I'll end up
killing myself."<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Armed with the Internet, I searched for information and
all the terminology I then found a forum called "Anglersnet", but my first post is
laughable at best as I truly didn’t have a clue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One thing I chuckle about now is this comment I made on my
first post “I'm not fussy what fish I catch as
long as its not pike”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was on that forum that I met my best friend and fishing
buddy Andrew Macfarlane who kindly offered to accompany me to the Glasgow
Angling Centre to get me kitted out and we managed it with £100. Andy picked
out a £30 float rod and a £25 reel,
hooks, split shot, floats, 4lb sensor line.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We left the angling centre and headed to the canal, Andy
showed me how to setup a basic float rig and I promptly caught my first ever
roach of about 2oz and it was named Fred, I'll never forget that little roach.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many joyful years passed with me and Andy fishing side by
side in all conditions and locations. The fishing had changed me so much that I
even landed a job in a letting agents which got me through my driving test and
got me a car. The fishing opportunities that gave me and Andy were brilliant
and we went all over the place. I lost weight and life was looking good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I slowly progressed my way up the angling ranks to start
fishing for pike with Andy as my mentor; this was a big difference from the
little roach and perch that I had been catching.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a few years, me and Andy had been friends before he
felt I was ready for pike and I'm grateful for this and I firmly believe this is
how everyone should do it (<i>start small</i>).<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At first Andy thought it best to start me off with a
spinning outfit and take it from there. He took me to one of the local ressies. I
blanked the first few times, but Andy caught a few wee pike and showed me
how to handle them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The funniest memory of this was the first pike
he showed me how to chin. It was a jack of about 2lb and Andy was showing me
where to put my fingers under the gill plate taking care not to go under the
rakers. I asked Andy “so where does yer finger go” and as he pointed in the
pike's mouth, it clamped down on Andy’s finger. I could hear him mutter “please don’t
move please don’t move” but as can be expected it did move and quite vigorously
too leaving his finger in an awful mess.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnEixRVruqx75RGVOP0uk7r27_rYfCqtcJJnnFLJLTauG0EDI2frJPzqmAY6i2HJQoSJnpXKiyHi4G7f4ONJ6Tnp-fHZzo41_aTBG-aiRdSTWNMf13ooFsHuYtJC0GTbZLk1JbGaEGhY/s1600/IMAG0147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnEixRVruqx75RGVOP0uk7r27_rYfCqtcJJnnFLJLTauG0EDI2frJPzqmAY6i2HJQoSJnpXKiyHi4G7f4ONJ6Tnp-fHZzo41_aTBG-aiRdSTWNMf13ooFsHuYtJC0GTbZLk1JbGaEGhY/s1600/IMAG0147.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;">Stupid cnut.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not long after, I managed to land my very first pike on my
own which fell to a shad, it was only about 10-12lb but my god I was buzzing, I
was howling like a nutter with so much adrenaline pumping through my body, this
pike was so determined to get away. I'm just glad no one was around to hear me
whoopin n hollerin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can’t remember now how long it was until we eventually went
to one of Andy’s favourite waters for big pike, but by that time I was armed
with a 3lb tc rod, alarms, droppers, 50lb braid etc.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was then that I caught my first 20lb pike. In all
fairness I really shouldn’t have caught it as I was meant to be working that
day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Andy had called me the night before saying him and Andy (yes
3 Andy’s) had spent the night there and they had been catching a lot of nice double
figure pike and they could really do with something to eat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went to Greggs in the morning and got them a ton of rolls,
crisps, drinks. I grabbed my rod and pulled a sicky and went to Loch X.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was about 6 or 7 hours before I got a bite but feck me
what a bite. I played this 20lb’er for what felt like an eternity. It didn’t
have much depth to play in so all it could do was go straight ahead at full
speed, to say it looked like a torpedo was an understatement it fought so hard
I could barely keep hold of the rod so Andy suggested I stick the butt on my
hip. Eventually it gave up the fight and was banked, weighed, photographed and
returned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXib4ThhFEoUrCMh1aDundwIh6-VPAZ98DLy_q-4yevQ8zOb3qZGfmHBK3Pvxi1zZ0KgZVgwDUxye0o_91heLUnZRr1xrdgxvJq_hTF2jQScKQIWx_bvs4JKgdHpldoPOEIp3WcY-WTU/s1600/Andy+Croft+With+A+20+-+01_blurred.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXib4ThhFEoUrCMh1aDundwIh6-VPAZ98DLy_q-4yevQ8zOb3qZGfmHBK3Pvxi1zZ0KgZVgwDUxye0o_91heLUnZRr1xrdgxvJq_hTF2jQScKQIWx_bvs4JKgdHpldoPOEIp3WcY-WTU/s1600/Andy+Croft+With+A+20+-+01_blurred.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This pike has been my crowning achievement and it’s been
hard to beat but I’ve come close a few times with a 17 and an 18 from the same
water but I doubt my next twenty will ever be as memorable as my first.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have since fallen away from pike fishing to concentrate
more on tench and carp but come this October I’ll be hard at them again and
hoping to beat my PB.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2012, Andy told me about <a href="http://www.the-pikers-pit.co.uk/">The Pikers Pit</a> and I thought this
sounds right up my street so I registered and kinda fell away from it but then
started reading again in 2013 and tried to contribute. It was then that Ben (Forum Father) needed some help moving to the new server and since then I've found myself a new
angling family. I was getting fed up of forums where you had to bite your
tongue for fear of a ban, but you lot are wonderful and while chat can get
heated and strong words spoken, we don’t get all hung up on it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So to sum things up, angling has given me so much in such a
short space of time. It has changed me for the better; it is in my blood, and
in my thoughts every waking moment, it gave me back my confidence and made me
sociable, it has saved my life and I am grateful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLcTHn3nMQJY6OUsdWXoNZac6kEy3qVO4U9x7FoX4CYSTbhuJc0efqlzBxQ6hxxiQV-rfeiSFSI9BhzaM2s8tGP60f46vDE2dQMAxGYpg9V5DKaVg9nj08DTidQMmb6jLXcPWfjEgf4A/s1600/rodshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLcTHn3nMQJY6OUsdWXoNZac6kEy3qVO4U9x7FoX4CYSTbhuJc0efqlzBxQ6hxxiQV-rfeiSFSI9BhzaM2s8tGP60f46vDE2dQMAxGYpg9V5DKaVg9nj08DTidQMmb6jLXcPWfjEgf4A/s1600/rodshot.jpg" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I have seen some spectacular scenery and awe inspiring events, I
remember the 40-60ft high whirl wind sucking up water as it travelled across a
loch, fog rolling across the mountains to settle on the surface as the sun
rises with intense ambient gold and red.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">At times it’s been grim and dangerous such as when Andy got stuck in
deep silt at HarelawHenrys Snypes dam and the time the weather has been so
horrible you wondered “why” whilst clinging to a brolly soaked to the bone and
through all that, I wouldn’t change a thing, I'd do it all over again next year.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I didn’t have angling I would have nothing. I’am a
piscator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Andrew Croft</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-47204371306887909312014-08-08T10:39:00.003+01:002014-08-08T10:39:42.180+01:00Is It Worth It - Tony "Pieater" Balfour<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJqXm4Cv63hQzUKVzqBaYx9yHTtVeSYns_NNWz_cQZ5X1LTH_k8SWUTorIDoPkZtsVSAUFkOKegYWdGvrnEiqngsC-Dp12Ccn144aAzNgmdV10A7_VabikfrCdqDRDsg-E4zufHmDGaU/s1600/Dawn+-4+and+we+should+have+stayed+in+bed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJqXm4Cv63hQzUKVzqBaYx9yHTtVeSYns_NNWz_cQZ5X1LTH_k8SWUTorIDoPkZtsVSAUFkOKegYWdGvrnEiqngsC-Dp12Ccn144aAzNgmdV10A7_VabikfrCdqDRDsg-E4zufHmDGaU/s1600/Dawn+-4+and+we+should+have+stayed+in+bed.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4047" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16pt; line-height: normal;">Time is 04-45, The sun is nowhere to be seen, the sky is black as coal, wind is averaging about 60 MPH, and the rain is being driven sideways, I’m looking out my bedroom window and thinking bollocks to this for a game of soldier’s, I’m supposed to be going fishing, Yeh right I am, you wouldn’t turn a dog out</span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4047" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16pt; line-height: normal;">in this, that reminds me. </span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4047" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4047" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4047" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16pt; line-height: normal;">I wonder if my mam let the cat in, no bother bloody moggy always seems to find a dry billet somewhere .</span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4047" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_3579" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; line-height: normal;"></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4057" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4059" style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4058" style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;">Anyway where was I?, oh fishing in this weather is crap, I look again out the window and wonder if it will brighten up any<span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4065" style="line-height: 30.2933349609375px;"> </span>and then look back towards my bed, I can see her curlers poking out the top of the quilt , if I play my cards right I could be balls deep before she knows what’s happening, there is nowt as nice as catching um with a full bladder in the morning, tell you what I’ll go make a brew before I decide on bank or bed, but i think my mind is already made up.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWXgrrytjvRx8JjB6MqOh_wikBy1MxH4Ac34VN9kQ6xn72rIUTl1rb313CPHcxxuH_BXho7dYg75sRnCVWFo31GyFvkAT9DQJ8O33HDySzg86OgoXFP-6YkpZ2iSnbi7kYqJgdWiEYFg/s1600/A+night+time+25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWXgrrytjvRx8JjB6MqOh_wikBy1MxH4Ac34VN9kQ6xn72rIUTl1rb313CPHcxxuH_BXho7dYg75sRnCVWFo31GyFvkAT9DQJ8O33HDySzg86OgoXFP-6YkpZ2iSnbi7kYqJgdWiEYFg/s1600/A+night+time+25.jpg" height="219" width="320" /></a></div>
</span></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4057" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_3579" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; line-height: normal;"></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4039" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4038" style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4037" style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;">I suppose I’d better start explaining myself before I get the Mad Mick treatment from my favourite Mod and start getting deleted, so what am I rambling on about? , well if you will bear with me I’ll explain all, I’m an avid reader of anything fishy I can get my hands on, and a while ago I was sat in the throne room doing my unmentionables and flicking through some old fishing diary’s, yes I used to be one of those unfortunates that filled in a diary after every session, at my age now, I can’t be arsed but that’s another tale, and in these said diaries from one of my more successful seasons i noticed quite by chance that most of the better fish that season had come between late morning and mid-afternoon, and when i looked further into this i realized that of my top ten fish only two were caught in this dawn/pre-dawn time of day, with two caught mid-morning one caught at night and FIVE<span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_5_1407434895037_12" style="line-height: 30.2933349609375px;"> </span>(that’s 50% or half ) afternoon caught fish.</span></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4039" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4CcBYdNMRJZes8GITN3HMngMImuNa0UFgYVJ4JUX3Q7D02fgfcmj7zXrBolhwDVYxHSl74paQr_r1ujRJvChyphenhyphenWbr3Ac4bWMISAkL1eHJ8ZdunH4ipcfjP936SQUDj_w9t9G8XDXl18I/s1600/Dawn.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4CcBYdNMRJZes8GITN3HMngMImuNa0UFgYVJ4JUX3Q7D02fgfcmj7zXrBolhwDVYxHSl74paQr_r1ujRJvChyphenhyphenWbr3Ac4bWMISAkL1eHJ8ZdunH4ipcfjP936SQUDj_w9t9G8XDXl18I/s1600/Dawn.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="ecxyiv3297349534ms__id3893" id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_5_1407434895037_11" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 21.33px; line-height: 30.288599014282227px;">
<span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_5_1407434895037_10" style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_5_1407434895037_9" style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;">So what in the name of Torak’s teeth have I been doing getting out my nice warm pit before the sparrows have even farted, by setting the alarm for an hour before I’ve even gone to bed, don’t get me wrong i love this time of day when it seems like everybody and everything is still asleep especially if you get the weather right and watch the weak winter sun climb slowly over the horizon, it’s a magical time of day and anglers usually get to see this because nobody is daft enough to be mooching round the fields and woods at this ungodly time, but my point is, is this really essential in helping you catch fish, fair enough I know you will have your choice of swim and be set ready with your traps out for when its light enough to see,<span style="line-height: 30.2933349609375px;"> </span>and these reasons alone may be enough for some of our keener pikers, fishing is a personal thing and you should do what you enjoy doing if that means living out of a bivvy for a few days that’s fine by me , if you only go for a few hours on a Sunday , again fine , do what you do and balls to the rest of um.</span></span></div>
<div class="ecxyiv3297349534ms__id3893" id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_5_1407434895037_11" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 21.33px; line-height: 30.288599014282227px;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_3579" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; line-height: normal;"></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4042" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjsCazmNNe2q7B-kYWuFpu-273nbaNC3ikpW7HFn7LXLPIRGNNByffcvAREy6Pdicm3Ts09UdPVLAQvsXykW_lQ3zAHa_irdaNO7RhZz_HhJl1QGyXI0e2QtzW-B3CbyjoaHNUKyIoQw/s1600/25lb++An+afternoon+fish.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjsCazmNNe2q7B-kYWuFpu-273nbaNC3ikpW7HFn7LXLPIRGNNByffcvAREy6Pdicm3Ts09UdPVLAQvsXykW_lQ3zAHa_irdaNO7RhZz_HhJl1QGyXI0e2QtzW-B3CbyjoaHNUKyIoQw/s1600/25lb++An+afternoon+fish.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4041" style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4040" style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;">For reasons of my own making I’ve done very little fishing over the last couple of years and to be honest I’ve not missed it that much as my heads been well and truly stuck between my buttocks, but finally I can see a bit of light at the end of the tunnel, so the lumby’s will be dusted off and I might get to wet a line, will I be out at first light?, course I bloody will old habits die hard, but these days if the weather is crap I’m getting back into my flocks, ( go on Mr K , tell um what flocks are ) talking of my bed I’m off before she goes to the bog.</span></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4042" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div id="ecxyiv3297349534yui_3_16_0_1_1407434895037_4042" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24.533334732055664px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: normal;">Tony</span></span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-81189849667871336432014-07-16T13:45:00.000+01:002014-07-17T07:36:39.179+01:00My story James Potts "How it all started to now" <div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{136}" paraid="1422167543" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JY5uHAQ-RBZ8NyKFIwr4nJnRB1KI1WS9YGWiXe4Cwbq8EC_s_gqPwvv6nxfJDrIe-898Uum-MeYPFqYhc-QZ3V2ejD0yx0FmGwVfv0yrxoXQE5OydiHiWyPtacecA4pKPQAobcXsOJE/s1600/Early+days+catching+jacks+was+fun.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JY5uHAQ-RBZ8NyKFIwr4nJnRB1KI1WS9YGWiXe4Cwbq8EC_s_gqPwvv6nxfJDrIe-898Uum-MeYPFqYhc-QZ3V2ejD0yx0FmGwVfv0yrxoXQE5OydiHiWyPtacecA4pKPQAobcXsOJE/s1600/Early+days+catching+jacks+was+fun.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">Living in Sunderland, which is the north east of England, really limits you when it comes to catching pike. I either have to travel 2 to 3 hours South to the Lake District or 2 to 3 hours North to the Scottish Borders. </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">It was the Scottish Borders where I served my </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">piking</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> apprenticeship. </span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{136}" paraid="1422167543" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">When I think back to those days, which were only a few years back, I still feel excited. We would pass loch after loch and I wanted to fish them all. I reckon I've probably wet a line in most of them now.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{143}" paraid="1767969330" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{148}" paraid="374529265" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">We always had a little boat which was perfectly suited to fishing these waters. The majority of the time, due to rules on the waters, we used an electric outboard. This set up suited us, as most of our boat fishing was done in the spring and Autumn were we could trolled and lure fish on the drift. We didn't dead bait so much from the boat then, I think we were too impatient. We just wanted action and </span><span style="font-size: 13.63636302947998px; line-height: 17px;">fast </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">action. </span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{148}" paraid="374529265" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{148}" paraid="374529265" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">In the early days a 6lb fish was an achievement, even if it was on heavy tackle. As we learned more and more, we lightened our tackle and were catching a dozen or so jacks on a loch each. We would then move lochs and catch a few more. I think my record for one day, number wise is 22 jacks to lures.</span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{148}" paraid="374529265" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">We were fairly content initially but my mind soon begun to wonder. I had hit early success in my </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">piking</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> adventure and landed two 20 lb + pike in two visits to a particular loch. So this deluded me slightly were I thought catching specimen pike regularly was going to be easy.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{148}" paraid="374529265" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGCQejA1rxV0fNbZ7fEse58KZhEqn-YTRG0B0_fE47Xl9RaVp7tisdnbesmlg0lEfVzO5eOLX-ukOJfeBw7J9sFXarjusbLp5A3E2OpviuufnXGqbeTmzVTLApr9grI86i1A24Pc4Vo0/s1600/My+Scottish+lure+caught+23+pounder.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdGCQejA1rxV0fNbZ7fEse58KZhEqn-YTRG0B0_fE47Xl9RaVp7tisdnbesmlg0lEfVzO5eOLX-ukOJfeBw7J9sFXarjusbLp5A3E2OpviuufnXGqbeTmzVTLApr9grI86i1A24Pc4Vo0/s1600/My+Scottish+lure+caught+23+pounder.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{171}" paraid="670186936" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">For the following winter season we upgraded our boat, initially we viewed a </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><span class="SpellingError SCX205702466" style="background-image: url(data:image/gif; background-position: 0% 100%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Bontwicho</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> 15' and purchased a 12' cathedral hulled foam filled dory type. Naturally we were eager to test this new boat out. We headed up to Scotland for an overnight </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><span class="SpellingError SCX205702466" style="background-image: url(data:image/gif; background-position: 0% 100%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">bivvy</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> session. I think the first day there was a breeze on the water and with only a </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><span class="SpellingError SCX205702466" style="background-image: url(data:image/gif; background-position: 0% 100%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Minn</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> Kota electric motor fitted to the boat, due to the rules, we opted to bank fish instead.</span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{171}" paraid="670186936" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">I think we had a few jacks, the biggest being around 7lb. But the following morning my fishing partner, Ian was excited. Ian loved being afloat and fishing with lures and today it was flat calm. </span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{171}" paraid="670186936" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{171}" paraid="670186936" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">By 2pm we had thrashed the water with lures but without any fish being landed. At this point the fish finder almost went black with fish. I thought this could be the bream shoal that the water was reputed for. I cast a heavy jerk bait through them the shoal a few times without success as I thought big pike would be following the bream picking o</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">ff the weak and injured. Nothing took the lure</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">, the water has also a reputation for big perch having</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> caught one over 2.5lb before. So I</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> then fitted a small 9cm R</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><span class="SpellingError SCX205702466" style="background-image: url(data:image/gif; background-position: 0% 100%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">apala</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> lure on my UL outfit and cast out. I had a hit immediately and it was solid, a big pike had taken the tiny lure. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">The fight started</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> and</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> every time I got the pike close to the boat it powered off taking lots of line off the small match type reel. When I got the pike along side the boat it looked as if it was almost half the length of the boat. This is when I started getting anxious. </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">T</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">his water had produced a 30lb pike and I thought this was it. There was one problem though, it was lightly lip hooked by a size 10 treble and I struggled to move it until it tired. Eventually Ian netted </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">it. The</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> pike was </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">very long with a huge head, but was </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">just over 23 lb and I was ecstatic. I couldn't believe I landed it on such light gear.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfJvIqoGWzpUnF5HJM0giOP7nA4g22gk3Qpu0GGwTIys4yjtaRogDoRcdIMlZw2CVNCcq9JErjtwKe3o73p9iyppwb7NgMaDMlR_27aROVBp0LyKT0zy0a5Vf0s3zewxmGuPq6rDjh7E/s1600/Windermere+mid+double.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfJvIqoGWzpUnF5HJM0giOP7nA4g22gk3Qpu0GGwTIys4yjtaRogDoRcdIMlZw2CVNCcq9JErjtwKe3o73p9iyppwb7NgMaDMlR_27aROVBp0LyKT0zy0a5Vf0s3zewxmGuPq6rDjh7E/s1600/Windermere+mid+double.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{174}" paraid="1240245744" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">It was shortly after this where Ian suggested we fish Lake Windermere. The border lochs were being pressured and we were finding set lines and blatant poaching. I was right up for Windermere and me being me, started the research. I posted on forums, spoke to anglers who had fished it. All I got was negativity, "I've fished it for years biggest fish 15lb". "I blanked my first 10 visits" I wasn't fazed, I wanted a Windermere 20, after all the water held them.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{174}" paraid="1240245744" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{185}" paraid="416852741" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">Ian suggested we hired a boat, he then suggested we hired a guide. After all Windermere is England's largest lake of over 11 miles long. Through the old P&P forum I stumbled across Eric Hopes name and I called him and arranged a date back end of November. We agreed to meet Eric at 9am at a jetty on the north side of Windermere. Initially myself and Ian were disappointed "9 o'clock, that's half the day gone" we we're die hard anglers, very much used to setting off before 5am and even as ear</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">ly as 2.30am. So we set off at 4</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">am and arrived </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">before </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">7am with our lure rods ready. We found a long jetty and started launching the lures out, I remember using a favourite lure at the time, a S</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><span class="SpellingError SCX205702466" style="background-image: url(data:image/gif; background-position: 0% 100%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">almo</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> perch. I'd caught everywhere with this lure and I had a hit straight away but missed it. I had another hit and landed a small jack. I'd caught my first pike on Windermere</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> after only 10 minutes or so</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">. Ian also had a hit and I had another but we never managed to land any more pike.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{192}" paraid="1613327426" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">Eric then arrived in the Beagle, we loaded up and off we went. He had a huge outboard and blasted us to the first location, he anchored up and 5 dead bait rods were out, 2 for Ian, 2 for me and 1 for Eric. After an hour or so Eric indicated it was time to move. Ian twitched his bait, stopped and his float went under. He was in to the first fish. Eric netted Ian's first Windermere pike, which weighed just under 9lb, although looking at the photo it looks huge. Eric mastered camera angles. We then headed south, trolled a bit which was maybe our idea and settled on the last location. As we were beginning to lose light my float went under. Not having so much boat and float experience I wound down, felt the resistance of the cuddy a</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">nd struck against it. The pike </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">was on and I started t0 reel in the fish, jus</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">t as Eric was about to net it the fish</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> shook the hooks. I felt a bit red faced but hey ho I'd just lost a pike of around 18lb. We then head back and Eric was supportive of our custom and his words were he was pleased to be out with 2 nice anglers who didn't put him under the usual pressure, this comment remains with me.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{192}" paraid="1613327426" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{203}" paraid="163376687" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">The second time I fished Win</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">dermere was probably a bit of a gamble </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">as we were not </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">really </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">prepared for such a massive </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">water. Even though it was a flat cal</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">m day in September. We launched the dory complete with 2.5hp engine. It wasn't winter and we adopted the tactics of the Scottish lochs. Looking back now this was </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">a bit naive</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> even if we didn't stray far off the bank. Initially when we changed from the electric motor to the mariner 2.5hp outboard our catch rate dropped. We had a few blanks on the river and up Scotland. However we were back to trolling lures on the mighty lake Windermere. We fished hard all day and eventually a Windermere pike took my trolled shallow invader lure in 10' of water. The pike was a stunning mid double and I was a happy piker and thought I'd made up for losing the pike with Eric a year prior to this catch.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{206}" paraid="1081282702" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">We wanted to concentrate more on Windermere and the following year we bought a 17' Wilson flyer with a 30hp engine, the 2.5hp engine was promoted to back up auxiliary engine. This purchase was made in April 2013 so we intended to fish Windermere properly during the 2013 winter. At this point I'd only fished Windermere twice.</span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{206}" paraid="1081282702" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{213}" paraid="1728832917" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">I work offshore so miss large chunks of home life, that of course doesn't stop Ian. He loves this boat and was out every opportunity. On the sea, on the river and Windermere. He had a few overnighters on Windermere, using the boat with his dad or alone. I was of course on the end of the phone envious of his position whilst I was stuck working </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">offshore. This</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> was the summer and maybe Autumn of 2013. Ian from memory had a low and mid double, the bigger fish on a M</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><span class="SpellingError SCX205702466" style="background-image: url(data:image/gif; background-position: 0% 100%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">epps</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> spinner.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{213}" paraid="1728832917" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{216}" paraid="878293341" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">We never made Windermere together during 2013 due to other commitments. </span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{229}" paraid="2022162428" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">It was February 2014, I was coming to the end of my offshore leave. There were big pike being caught all over </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">Facebook</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> and the forums. I knew Ian was planning to fish Windermere the following week. It was Sunday and I was due to leave the house at 6am Wednesday morning. I approached my wife "darling" can I fish Tuesday. She agreed and I text Ian</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">,</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">he</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> and his dad were up for it. </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">So we planned Windermere the following Tuesday. </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">Due to the launch </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">we used </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">not opening until 9am I agreed to be at Ian's for 6am.</span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{229}" paraid="2022162428" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{235}" paraid="1134958735" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">I was at Ian's bang on 6am and his dad arrived at the same time. The boat sat there looking a bit neglected as </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">it</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> hadn't been used for a good few month</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">s.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{239}" paraid="557609778" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">We hitched the boat up to my car and head off to the lakes. It normally takes around 2.5 hours with the boat so a 5 hour round trip. We were at the launch before it opened and had everything prepared ready to go for 9am</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">. My research of this lake never stopped, it was like an obsession I studied the lake maps and catch results. I don’t know why but after fishing this water twice I thought I knew it. It was winter and very cold and I knew the depth fish were coming out, I knew where they were heading to spawn. Or at least I thought I did. This was the same with a few waters I worked on, sometimes I looked an expert and I give advice to people on the forum, then I would tell them I’ve only fished the place a few times. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or not but I devoted a lot of time to learning and my passion has evolved over the years.</span><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{239}" paraid="557609778" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{246}" paraid="1343822144" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09YoNGFzhig1sjdY4RohPAcET-gVbUzYXDxNdjfJn84H1ixw-BK6toGffRDI_xp54NCk13Nj0dZYfFyVcOyfjWLr3PMu0JA4ZnK2TmgJAxaYUGQNYgTnlw6Jj6KGc9J8Gu5KJ7W8YwvY/s1600/Windermere+21.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09YoNGFzhig1sjdY4RohPAcET-gVbUzYXDxNdjfJn84H1ixw-BK6toGffRDI_xp54NCk13Nj0dZYfFyVcOyfjWLr3PMu0JA4ZnK2TmgJAxaYUGQNYgTnlw6Jj6KGc9J8Gu5KJ7W8YwvY/s1600/Windermere+21.JPG" height="320" width="148" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">With this in mind Ian and I knew where we were heading. Ian had his thoughts and I had mine. We both settled on a place to anchor up. Anchoring was difficult as the weather was wild this day. Every time we went to anchor we drifted off position. We tried again and again as each time we weren’t happy as we anchored in the wrong place. Eventually the boat held in my spot and I proceeded to p</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">ut my rods together. I had 2 x </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">loch tamers ready with big floats and quick releases so all I had to do was attach a 4oz lead and a trace. I baited up with a large herring and a mackerel and took the front spot of the boat. This left Ian and his dad the full back deck for their 3 rods. Ian spent more time </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">messing</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> around getting his dad sorted after he managed a few tangles but I was fishing and watching my floats.</span></span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{246}" paraid="1343822144" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{d841c59f-9c27-4db3-891b-db56573a9693}{251}" paraid="1470627823" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09YoNGFzhig1sjdY4RohPAcET-gVbUzYXDxNdjfJn84H1ixw-BK6toGffRDI_xp54NCk13Nj0dZYfFyVcOyfjWLr3PMu0JA4ZnK2TmgJAxaYUGQNYgTnlw6Jj6KGc9J8Gu5KJ7W8YwvY/s1600/Windermere+21.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">Once we had the baits in the water we decided to stick it out here due to the hassle of anchoring. It was after a few hours when my float went under, I struck into a fish and began winching it up. When it broke the surface we knew it was a good fish </span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB">as</span><span class="TextRun SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" xml:lang="EN-GB"> it took off. The first time Ian went to net it he missed and the fish took off again. Ian has never missed a fish before and the fish I lost with Eric went through my mind. Eventually it was netted. We sent Ian’s dad into the cuddy so we could unhook the fish. Ian weighed the fish and it went 21 lb exactly. It was a short but solid, fat fish and I was ecstatic. Three times of fishing this vast water and I had achieved what I wanted, a Windermere 20+.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I have so many targets now and waters I want to master, I haven't pike fished the years most pikers have who will be reading this and a low twenty is still a dream fish to me.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{5f8b25d0-dc54-4f61-8b21-b6d62a80369d}{1}" paraid="314435500" style="color: windowtext; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span class="EOP SCX205702466" style="font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">James Potts aka JimK2</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX205702466" style="font-family: Consolas, monospace; font-size: 8px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX205702466" paraeid="{5f8b25d0-dc54-4f61-8b21-b6d62a80369d}{3}" paraid="58133928" style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 6pt; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F4.bp.blogspot.com%2F-b5Hd8c7W_00%2FU8UZvG77ueI%2FAAAAAAAABqY%2FS4YY9gM8oxk%2Fs1600%2FWindermere%2B21.JPG&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09YoNGFzhig1sjdY4RohPAcET-gVbUzYXDxNdjfJn84H1ixw-BK6toGffRDI_xp54NCk13Nj0dZYfFyVcOyfjWLr3PMu0JA4ZnK2TmgJAxaYUGQNYgTnlw6Jj6KGc9J8Gu5KJ7W8YwvY/s1600/Windermere+21.JPG" -->Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148904642584189433.post-30619551207397078932014-06-10T12:26:00.001+01:002014-06-10T12:26:32.726+01:00Carp Story<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5T4J0IxCYupHRrsoXeQ3JA42hXz0sm-vxNx_syREJsvJzP0WIIl2Oo5WityOHX7enhbjpA9yLYFWVjxT5yrb7aLjrV1Zf-4Lry8lqHVMqB5wcOdW4FoPv4Y1mNak6RDI1wRsGo-NUU3g/s1600/GetAttachment+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5T4J0IxCYupHRrsoXeQ3JA42hXz0sm-vxNx_syREJsvJzP0WIIl2Oo5WityOHX7enhbjpA9yLYFWVjxT5yrb7aLjrV1Zf-4Lry8lqHVMqB5wcOdW4FoPv4Y1mNak6RDI1wRsGo-NUU3g/s1600/GetAttachment+(1).jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A
single javelin of moonlight pierced the tangled knot of submerged Oak roots,
scattering in the murky water beneath the great tree. A big Carp lay quietly on the lake bottom,
motionless save the occasional tremor of fins.
Above her a myriad of sheltering fry, luminescent in the moonlit water,
hung in nervous flickering suspension.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
Oak stood half in and half out of an ancient estate lake. The old tree’s
writhing mass of tannin stained roots had served generations of fry well as a
nursery. The big carp herself had hidden there once, as an immature fingerling,
many years before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">She’d
charged headlong into the sanctity of the cavern the day before, following a
close encounter with an angler, and she’d remained there since. She’d been
close to defeat when the anglers hook had slipped its hold; instinct had sent
her crashing beneath the old tree and into its familiar surroundings. Safe
within its sanctuary, the carp had gradually calmed. Hunger would see her
venture out into the lake in search of food soon, the recent trauma slowly
fading from her mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSf8QH5VHubfLcPNUDL5rUvtZvLHaKmKHn4ReYiebc12aBc8TCpNe2_FbDk2o_rhxoJLmRCtgyv06EhHe4wpvhsOQNs_wO6CIs5btMuf94_y25-ofjWthDTYzJOPAH5qnASoPQRbKBgA/s1600/GetAttachment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSf8QH5VHubfLcPNUDL5rUvtZvLHaKmKHn4ReYiebc12aBc8TCpNe2_FbDk2o_rhxoJLmRCtgyv06EhHe4wpvhsOQNs_wO6CIs5btMuf94_y25-ofjWthDTYzJOPAH5qnASoPQRbKBgA/s1600/GetAttachment.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
following evening an autumn sun sat like an over-ripe peach, low on the
horizon, sending the hazy golden mist of twilight dancing along burnished
treetops, and gilding the prominent spurs of the river valley in the distance.
At the dam end of the lake an angler stood surveying this wonderful ‘cabaret’
of light as dusk fell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> Charlie could see the smouldering silver
ribbon of the feeder stream, at the far end of the lake, as it picked its way
torturously down through the contours of the valley. Falling, finally, in an
effervescent tumble over a mossy sluice gate and into the stolid lake below. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Along
the south-western bank the low sun, probing through panoply of tall Poplars,
threw a fretwork of long sepia shadows along the lakes margin. On the opposing
bank it stained the water crimson, and Charlie watched a Barn Owl's ethereal
form lit by a halo of the smudgy remnants of reddening light. He watched as it
quartered the water meadow in noiseless glides, searching for a complacent
small mammal in the deceptive half-light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A
‘murder’ of Crows flapped homeward wearily, sprawled across the richly coloured
sky in a ragged line. Exhausted from a hard day of foraging upon the last of
the stubble, where the pickings were slim, the harvest now long finished, and
competition with the voles and mice fierce.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> Though they didn’t know it yet, or, in truth,
couldn’t remember it from last season, (Crows have very short memories you
know.) things were destined to get much harder for the unfortunate birds. The
onset of winter ‘proper’ would see them forced into harder labour still, soon
they would have to spend their days hard at work digging over the stubble in
search of wire-worms and leather-jackets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This
lake held some of Charlie’s fondest memories and, though he hadn’t fished there
in later years, an urge to reacquaint himself with the place had been growing
within him for some time now. A recent walk around the place had yielded the
sight of a very big carp and boosted his desire to fish there even further.
Today had been a reccy trip for a session he had planned in a couple of days’
time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvuGK0poEDRwlosSKgKBF19iK1IjdLmzPLijKZdBTyHQsMjsGExQZJslmV1C1m4p9UYoSF-uM9_v0WGLpxDj35inilPT4ojxa3mNwIj1jzU2FFb0Ur7NbE6JSpx-Z56eb_kpeLg446yI/s1600/GetAttachment+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvuGK0poEDRwlosSKgKBF19iK1IjdLmzPLijKZdBTyHQsMjsGExQZJslmV1C1m4p9UYoSF-uM9_v0WGLpxDj35inilPT4ojxa3mNwIj1jzU2FFb0Ur7NbE6JSpx-Z56eb_kpeLg446yI/s1600/GetAttachment+(2).jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A
Robin landed close by, perching on the handrail fixed to the dam wall. The
little bird had obviously encountered anglers before and seemed quite tame. He
reached into his shoulder bag and found an uneaten crust from his lunch-time
sandwich. He crumbled the dry bread and flicked some on the ground to one side
of the Robin. The bird dropped to the floor immediately and fed on the crumbs.
Charlie noticed that it had a somewhat ragged appearance, and was missing one
of its tail feathers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> The hungry little bird cleared every crumb
before flying off. Charlie watched it’s unnatural, wobbly flight and said to
himself with a degree of sadness, that poor bird would be lucky to see the
coming winter out. At least you’ve fed well today little fellow he murmured as
it disappeared from sight into the bushes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> He had spent a lot of time at this lake with
his father as a youngster, when they’d enjoyed many a day fishing with a
crowquill float and bread flake for Rudd. Or freelining lobworms for the
elusive Tench, and of course they’d spent many hours in pursuit of the
‘uncatchable’ Carp. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
mood darkened a little, seeing the Robin, and then remembering that fateful
day. The day his father had managed to hook one of those, almost mythical,
carp. The events of that day amounted to the one and only real regret he had
after a lifetime of angling. In truth it was probably the reason he’d neglected
to fish the lake in recent years, he admitted to himself sombrely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<a href="https://dub118.mail.live.com/att/GetAttachment.aspx?tnail=0&messageId=ad02530d-cab4-11e3-96cf-001e0bcc07aa&Aux=850%7c0%7c8D12CD8989350E0%7c%7c0%7c0%7c0%7c0%7c%7c&cid=36ce13a3910af597&maxwidth=220&maxheight=160&size=Att&blob=MHxjYXJwcGljZm9yc3RvcnkuanBnfGltYWdlL2pwZWc_3d" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="View carppicforstory.jpg in slide show" border="0" src="https://dub118.mail.live.com/att/GetAttachment.aspx?tnail=0&messageId=ad02530d-cab4-11e3-96cf-001e0bcc07aa&Aux=850%7c0%7c8D12CD8989350E0%7c%7c0%7c0%7c0%7c0%7c%7c&cid=36ce13a3910af597&maxwidth=220&maxheight=160&size=Att&blob=MHxjYXJwcGljZm9yc3RvcnkuanBnfGltYWdlL2pwZWc_3d" style="cursor: move;" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
was ten years old and accompanying his father for the very first time on a
‘proper’ carp fishing session. The lake was quiet, with just the semblance of a
warm breeze ruffling the surface, as the young boy and his father tiptoed into
the Oak swim. Dragonflies buzzed and
clicked in the clearing, and there was the pervasive smell of water-mint in the
air. The older man motioned noiselessly for his son to stay back a little while
he crept slowly forward. He crawled, down on all fours, keeping his body low,
like the young soldiers that Charlie had seen training on the village common.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A
few minutes passed before his father turned to Charlie, his face flushed and
glistening with sweat, his eyes held a feverish, almost manic look. The young
lad was taken aback by the transformation in his normally stoic father, and he
hesitated to come forward at first when his father beckoned him -with a finger
held to his lips to signal the need for silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
reservation was soon replaced with a tingle of excitement, as he crept forward
to join the older man. Peering through the slender wands of reeds, Charlie, at
first, could see nothing to warrant such enthusiasm as he stared into the
gloomy water. He followed the line of his father’s arm as he slowly extended it
to point to a large patch of lilies to their left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
let out an almost audible gasp as his eyes suddenly focused upon a group of
three carp that were working their way towards them just below the surface.
He’d never imagined a fish could be so big! He’d sneaked the odd look at his
fathers treasured angling books and had seen pictures of mighty looking
specimens, however nothing he’d seen in any book had prepared him for the sheer
‘presence’ of these majestic creatures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As
they came closer the largest of the three carp veered away from the other two
to come to rest no more than a couple of yards from the young boys nose. The
carp, a common of about fourteen pounds, hung there below him, her broad dark
back kissing the surface and her deep Chestnut and honey coloured sides glowing
in the warm sunshine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
was rigid, not daring to move a muscle, his mouth hanging open as he stared in
disbelief! It was unquestionably the most spectacular sight the young lad had
ever witnessed. He felt truly privileged to have shared this wonderful
spectacle with his father, he felt sure they must be the only people ever to
have seen these secretive monsters at such close quarters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father was growing impatient; Charlie’s excitement was infectious. He whispered
to the boy,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Come
on lad, let’s move back and get this tackle sorted out.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
youngster was reluctant to break the spell this mystical beast had cast over
him but the urgency in his father’s voice told him he’d better move!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">They
shuffled back from the water’s edge quietly and he crouched in a daze, barely
noticing as his father tackled up a cane rod and greased the line. There was
nothing by way of terminal tackle other than a hook, and this looked huge to
Charlie. The little hooks he’d used in the past were tiny by comparison; you
could bury one of those out of sight in a single Brandling or a pinch of bread.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father crawled stealthily back to the water again; cane rod in one hand, and a homemade
landing net in the other. He motioned the youngster to bring over to him their
only other item of luggage, a little canvass bag. Charlie scurried forward
eagerly, handing the bag to his father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A
loaf of fresh white bread was produced from the bag and Charlie stared with
disbelief as his father tore off a piece of crust fully two inches square! The
older man proceeded to bury the large hook in the bread then, satisfied it was
properly hooked, and he dapped it briefly in the water below. The crust was
flicked out, expertly, to land on the very edge of the Lilies; a slight twitch
and it was on the water, tight to the pads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father sat back and tore two larger chunks of bread from the loaf, tossing one
to the lad with a grin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘We
aren’t going to let them greedy beggars have it all son.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
nodded his head in happy agreement, and set about the bread with vigour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> They returned to silence. Young Charlie smote
by the atmosphere of the place. The hypnotic drone of insects, the perpetual,
rhythmic, chorus of birdsong and the sweet, incense like collusion of
wildflower perfumes all served to intoxicate him; and he sat in a sea of
intense pleasure. Watching his dad fondly. Waiting for a monster. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
stark white crust bobbed on the gentle hint of ripple, the soft breeze keeping
it snug against the Lilies. There was no
sign of the three carp now. His father explained that this was just what they
had wanted, in order that they had been able to make the cast without
disturbing the fish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Far
better to let the fish find the bait lad, than the bait find the fish. Once
they’ve been spooked it’s a done job.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">They
sat together for the next hour; neither of them feeling the need to speak. To
the imaginative young boy the lake seemed quiet and mysterious. There was no
trace now of the magnificent creatures that they’d watched earlier. Almost as
though it had happened in some kind of magical dream. Yet that beautiful tawny
beast that had hung in the water beneath him was real! His dad and he knew it,
even if nobody else did. The weight of this moment, this shared, secret
knowledge, thrilled him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> A Robin appeared from nowhere, alighting on
the tip of the stationary rod with a sway and eyeing a few crumbs of bread in
the grass. Realising the presence of the two anglers almost immediately, it
flew into cover scolding them vociferously as it went. Charlie’s father turned
and spoke for the first time in over an hour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘That’s
a sign that we’re about to catch a fish.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> He whispered knowingly to the young boy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
stared in open-eyed wonder at his father. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Were
all anglers aware of this amazing fact?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
wondered innocently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Oh
yes’, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father continued<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘It’s
well known, a Robin landing on your rod is like being given a lucky charm, in
fact I once…’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
learned no more of the tale. His father had stopped in mid-sentence and was now
gripping the lads arm tightly in a signal for silence and nodding urgently
towards the lake. As though to corroborate his father’s story, the big common
had appeared cruising steadily through the surface layers, heading towards the
Lilly pads. Charlie watched, hardly daring to draw a breath as the big fish
slowed then came to a rest a yard from the floating crust.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
stole a quick glance at his father. He’d never seen such a tense look on his
face. A bead of sweat had appeared just below the peak of his old flat cap and
his temple was twitching. Charlie noticed how his fingers had whitened around
the tightly gripped rod. His gaze fixed unerringly on the scene in front of
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
big fish moved again. This time, with no further ceremony, it ghosted up to the
bait, tipped itself slightly in the water, and nosed the bread gently. The
piece of crust rocked in the water and moved a couple of inches away from the
pads. A scattering of crumbs broke away like a flurry of snowflakes and hung in
suspension around the hook bait. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Please
let the hook stay in.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> His father offered up in silent prayer,
terrified that the water sodden bread would part company with the hook. Then,
as if in answer to his plea, the carp came again to the bread. There was the
briefest glimpse of a pair of lips, accompanied by a loud slurping noise and
the crust disappeared into a mini vortex.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
slack line was ripped from the surface of the water sending up a plume of fine
spray. The cane rod hooped over as Charlie’s father struck it high over his
shoulder. In a flash, he was on his feet and paying out line to the running
fish. There was no stopping her on her initial surge, and his father
concentrated on applying a constant pressure on the drum of the wooden reel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> The rod bucked violently as the carp slowed
and shook its head in anger. Charlie was on his feet too now, and admiring his father’s
skill with the simple tackle as he fought the carp. The polished cane creaked
audibly as he pumped the rod in an effort to win some line back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This
process was repeated several times over the course of the next few minutes, no
sooner did the angler gain a few vital feet of line back on the reel, than the
fish would charge away, stripping the line again effortlessly. After what
seemed like an eternity the powerful surges finally began to grow weaker and
Charlie's father exclaimed, through clenched teeth,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘She’s
tiring son.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> ‘She’s tiring now son.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> He repeated, through shallow pants of breath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Just
grab the net and keep very still.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
responded, trembling with excitement. The water just in front of them boiled
and they gasped in unison as the big fish rose in the gloomy water and came
into view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘That’s
the biggest fish I’ve ever hooked!’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father exclaimed excitedly, with a quavering voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Please
don’t let her come off.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Put
the net into the water very slowly Charlie.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
did as asked and held the net as still as his shaking hands would allow, just
below the surface. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father drew the carp slowly towards the net. She came through the water,
slightly tilted to one side, her flank gleaming like golden chain mail in the
clear water. She was no more than inches from the net when suddenly she awoke
again. Righting herself in the water and
thrashing it to foam with her powerful tail, she thundered away again! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">With
a new and seemingly unstoppable strength she tore the line from the whirring
reel and ploughed along the margin! Charlie’s dad fought wildly for control of
the churning centrepin. The fish steadied a little but continued unabated with its
bid for freedom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Directly
to their left the Oak tree that gave the swim its name loomed menacingly out of
the water. Charlie's father knew this was where the fish was heading. If she
made it to those treacherous roots he would lose her! The tree was a good
thirty yards away and the fish had covered nearly half the distance when he
instructed Charlie to drop the net and run down to the tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘If
she tries to get in there throw a stick or something into the water to scare
her off.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
shouted to the running lad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
sprinted to the tree and searched frantically for something to make a splash
with. Vital seconds passed as he scoured the ground. He spotted an old brick,
partly covered in moss. Seeing little else he grabbed this and scrambled to a
position at the base of the tree. From this vantage point he could see the
furrow the big fish made as it came towards him. With his heart pounding
wildly, the young boy raised the brick above his head shakily and waited. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Back
in their swim Charlie’s father had begun to think he was going to lose the
carp. He was applying maximum side-strain with the protesting cane rod and his
thumb was burning painfully as he attempted to check the revolving spool.
Although the fish was paying dearly for every inch of line, it would not stop.
There was nothing more he could do, and as the fish entered the last few yards
of water between him and the tree roots he resigned his self to losing it. In
one last-ditch effort to stop the carp from reaching the snaggy lair, he locked
the tackle up solid and prayed!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
saw the fish about four yards out. It was shrugging its head as it came
straight for the Oak, fighting desperately against the unceasing pressure. He
picked a spot in front of the fish and took aim. As it got to within two yards
of the menacing roots his father’s prayers were answered. The big carp finally
came to a standstill. His father could feel the fish stop and rise in the water
against the pressure of the locked tackle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
let the missile go! The heavy brick was awkward in the ten-year-old’s small
hand, and the throw was awkward. The carp rose nearing the surface. He watched
the twisting trajectory of the brick looping through the air, and the burnished
scales of the carp’s majestic head as they broke the surface tension. They came
together with a sickening dull thud! There was a hiss as the sharp edged brick
severed the taut line and Charlie’s stomach retched as he saw a big ugly white
gape appear on the fish’s head. She listed over onto one side and sank slowly
from sight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
young boy stood biting his lip as hot tears ran down his face. His father came
running, demanding angrily,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘What
the hell happened?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘What
the hell did you throw?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Poor
Charlie was beside himself and could barely speak through the sobs as he
explained to his father what had happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie’s
father, on seeing his son in obvious distress, soon quelled the anger he’d
felt, and though he was bitterly disappointed he did his level best not to show
it to the grief stricken youngster.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘We’ll
catch her next time Charlie, don’t you worry son.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
told the boy. Charlie though was inconsolable and felt sure his wretched throw
with the brick had killed the innocent carp. He adored wild creatures of any
kind, and to think he might be responsible for ‘murdering’ one was almost more
than the young lad could bear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Honestly
lad, them old carp are as tough as old boots. I’ll bet she’s as right as nine
pence in a week or two. We’ll meet up with her again one day and you see if I’m
not right.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father tried to reassure him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
walk home that evening was a troubled one for young Charlie, he was to suffer
bad memories of that fish for several years to come. He said little on the way
back, talking to his father only once to ask him, with a wavering voice,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘How
do fisherman know a Robin is lucky dad?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
father feigned enthusiasm and told him,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Well
it’s one of those little bits of knowledge that have been passed down from
father to son over the year’s lad. Every fisherman,’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
began,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> ‘No matter how good he is’,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> He added with mock seriousness,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Needs
a little luck sometimes.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Glad
of the opportunity to take the young boy’s mind off of the day’s disastrous
events he continued,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘When
a Robin visits you make sure to offer him a little food and he’ll usually repay
that kindness with a little luck.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This
intriguing tale cheered the woeful youngster a little and they continued their
journey home in silence, Charlie’s spirits a little brighter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> For the first time in four days the big fish
stole from beneath the Oak and out into the quiet lake. The water temperature
had risen significantly during the recent ‘Indian’ days and she felt a hunger
welling up inside. She cruised a while,
still a little uneasy, eventually circumventing the perimeter of the lake
before she was content to think about feeding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Her
acute senses picked up on the subtleties of air pressure and the particle drift
moving toward the North Eastern bank and she followed the breeze across the
lake, back in the direction of the Oak. Pausing occasionally to turn and watch
a struggling insect caught in the surface tension and being towed along with
the ripple. Gently sipping them in, each time her suspicious nature was
satisfied that nothing was amiss with the tiny, floating, protein rich morsel.
She swam purposefully past the Oak shelter and into the little bay next to it. Finally
settling down to feed in earnest amongst a patch of decaying Lilies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A
week later the chilly temperatures that had signalled the arrival of the autumn
gave way to a period of unseasonably warm weather. Charlie mused to himself
that you could be forgiven for mistaking the days of cobalt skies and low,
fiery sun, for mid July, as he packed his fishing gear into his estate car in
shirtsleeves the following Wednesday. He could hardly believe his luck, with a
warm breeze picking up from the south and three consecutive nights without a
hint of ground frost, he’d have been hard pressed to choose much better
conditions for an October carping session. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">At
the lake, he crept to the water’s edge, parted the curtain of reeds carefully,
and peered out over the calm pool. He studied the brightly-lit water intensely
for several minutes. Before too long
he’d spotted four very big carp cruising through the surface layers lazily. His
pulse raced. Although he’d observed large carp at close quarters on countless
occasions in the past, the experience had never failed to get Charlie’s
adrenaline flowing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">At
least three of the carp were well into thirty pounds in weight, but they
weren’t what Charlie was looking for. He continued to scrutinise the lake
carefully. There were lots of bubbles fizzing up from one patch of lilies and
he focused his attention on these.
After about twenty minutes he saw what he’d come for. From amongst the
tangle of dead and dying Lilies he watched in awe as an enormous blue-black
inkstain formed on the surface.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">For
over an hour he remained, squatting uncomfortably, captivated by the vision of
this wondrous creature. Again and again he watched as the carp upended and
nose-dived from sight. The pads were twitching violently and the water fizzed
as the hungry fish churned up the bottom sediment aggressively. When he could
bear the discomfort no longer, and with cramp shooting through his legs, he
reluctantly shuffled slowly backwards, keeping low still, until he was sure the
carp could not see him, then stood up, grimacing as he straightened seized
limbs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He’d
left his fishing tackle back at the car, preferring to approach the lake
unhampered to begin with to make his swim choice. The journey back to his car
was an arduous one, the blazing sun drew beads of sweat to his brow and each
gurgling step he took across the boggy water meadow awakened an unsavoury smell
in the heady afternoon heat. The pungent smell attracting a constant onslaught
from countless varieties of irritating flying insects that, Charlie told
himself with feeling, shouldn’t even be around at this time of year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Despite
the tiresome trek there was no regret about his decision to park in a nearby
bye lane rather than the car park at the dam end. A number of the swims on the
North Eastern bank were only accessible by crossing a wide expanse of boggy
water meadow from the lane. Access was cut off from any other direction by two
muddy drainage dikes, used in the past to adjust the water levels on the meadow
during the summer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In
effect, by parking in the bye road, next to a bridge where the two dykes
unified, any angler willing to slog across the marshy pasture with his tackle,
would find themselves on a triangular island. The chances of anyone else making
the effort during the week were fairly remote and Charlie hoped he would have
the place to himself for a couple of days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Back
at the car Charlie took off his battered old safari hat and mopped the beads of
sweat from his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It
really is incredibly mild for the time of year. He thought, opening the car
boot and pulling out a well used folding chair and a grubby thermos flask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> Sitting back in the chair he poured himself an
anaemic looking cup of tea. It occurred
to him, while he sat there, that he would never have been able to do this as a
young man, the urge to get to the water would have been far too strong. He
chuckled, remembering the many bootfuls of water he’d suffered in his haste to
get across that water meadow in the past. Smiling to himself he gulped down the
remaining tepid tea and duly refreshed, he began unpacking his gear from the
car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
image of that big carp filled Charlie’s mind, as he organised himself for the
hike across the meadow. How big might she be, he wondered, he was almost
certain her capture would break his personal best for the species, which stood
at thirty-seven pounds three ounces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He’d
been a keen angler for many years now; the early trips with his father had
unearthed a passion in him that had stayed with him throughout his life. Apart
from his family nothing else stirred such feelings within him. Even now, after
so many years, he could feel the excitement welling up inside as he
contemplated the coming session.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘It
would be a sad day indeed!’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
reminded himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘When
I don’t get that feeling.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He’d
fished almost fanatically as a young man, barely pausing to court and marries
his young wife ‘Lucy’. He knew he’d been a lucky man indeed, to have found such
an understanding and generous girl. Lucy had always accepted without complaint
his frequent forays to the water. In fact, she had given nothing but
encouragement, despite the many long hours of loneliness inflicted upon her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">To
his credit Charlie had always appreciated this fact and had repaid her kindness
at every given opportunity. When she had borne him two wonderful daughters he
had stored his tackle away gladly, to take up his duties of fatherhood,
resuming his fishing only when Lucy herself had prompted him. The faraway look
in his eye when the wind was pushing the ripple at his favourite pool onto the shallows
had been more than she could bear and, once the girls had began school she had
persuaded him to return to his sport. All this never failed to amaze Charlie,
especially as she herself had absolutely no interest in angling whatsoever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
had always kept things in perspective, and fished within their financial means.
In fact he was extremely proud of his tally of specimens, caught mostly from a
variety of inexpensive day ticket waters. There’d been no expensive, exclusive
syndicate waters for Charlie. The one burning ambition he had left was to catch
a forty-pound carp. Although he knew, that at fifty-five years of age and
without access to any proven ‘forties waters’, it was becoming increasingly
unlikely that he ever would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Unless.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
told himself, with a tingle of anticipation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Unless!’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
arrived, hot and breathless, at his chosen swim. It was in roughly the same
place that his dad had lost the big carp all those years ago. His tackle was
set up as quietly as possible and, with no sign now of the fish he’d seen
earlier, he baited up the patch of lilies where he’d seen her feeding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> A moderate amount of stewed hemp and wheat was
distributed amongst the yellowing fronds. He wanted to add to the appeal that
the area had to the big fish without arousing too much suspicion in her. The
small grains of corn and hempseed would soon get lost amongst the weed, giving
the big fish something to root for and a reason to return. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Satisfied
that the right amount of bait had been scattered in and around the pads, he sat
back in his chair and made up his rod with a simple, single, swanshot link
ledger and left it in the rests unbaited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It
was already early evening by now and Charlie set up his oval brolly back a
little from the rods. He spent a few minutes organising his shelter for the
night ahead, then lit a gas stove and put a small camping kettle on to boil.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Sitting
back, with a freshly brewed mug of tea, He looked out over the silky surface of
the lake and wondered if there could be any better way to spend an evening.
There was a Great Crested Grebe working its way along about twenty yards out
and each time it dived, Charlie amused himself by trying to predict where it
would resurface. It never failed to amaze him how long these birds could remain
under the water, and the distances they could travel while under.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">From
the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of steely blue, flashing past above
and behind him. He turned quickly and just caught sight of the Sparrowhawk as she
arrowed across the clearing. For an, all too brief, moment he marvelled as she
flew like a bolt, straight at the bole of a giant Crack Willow. Tilting the
primary feathers on one wing, almost imperceptibly, just at the moment that she
looked sure to dash herself against the tree. Then rolling acrobatically around
it in a spectacular aerial manoeuvre that would have had the most seasoned of
fighter pilots green with envy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
remainder of the evening passed quietly, and Charlie occupied himself by watching
the various creatures that were busy on and around the water. At midnight he
drifted into sleep and slept soundly through till dawn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
woke feeling a little uncomfortable in his reclining chair. A quick brew up on
the stove soon revived him and he positioned his chair close to the water’s
edge and watched over the baited area. After about a quarter of an hour his
spirits soared as he saw bubbles begin to rise from amidst the pre-baited lily
pads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">An
hour’s observation had proven that the feeding fish were indeed the big common
and a slightly smaller mirror, and by the time the feeding spell had finished
Charlie was almost unable to contain his excitement. He watched the fish leave,
then retired back to his shelter and prepared a welcome breakfast of eggs and
bacon. This was washed down with copious steaming mugs of coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
appetite satisfied Charlie turned his attention to the fishing once again. He
topped up the baited area with a pint or so more of the particle mix. This time
though, he introduced a few grains of sweet corn. This was to be his hook-bait
when he decided the time was right to put out his rod.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
magical dawn quickly passed and Charlie sat close to the water’s edge watching
the lilies again. At about 11.00 a.m. the two carp came again. Once more they
fed for over an hour and Charlie sat trembling with excitement. She really was
huge he told himself shakily. Again the two big fish left the pads. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Three
grains of sweetcorn were put on a size 6 hook with the light link leger set up
and lobbed underarm to land at the very edge of the pads amongst some more of
the free offerings. Charlie kept the front rest quite high. This allowed the
line to be kept reasonably tight, and to rise out of the water against the
stems and at a similar angle. He hoped that any contact made by the carp with
the line would be construed as merely a brush against a lily stem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
settled into his chair, his heart was beating a little faster, he knew he’d
probably have to wait a while but the sense of anticipation had grown with the
session and he was becoming more confident. It had taken a good deal of
resolution for him not to cast a bait into the Lillies any earlier. He prayed
that his patience would pay off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
ran the idea of her capture through his mind, imagining her perfect scaling and
huge girth on the unhooking mat. He visualised her in the weigh sling, and saw
the scales sweeping past the forty pound mark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Lost
in this reverie, he was a little startled when a Robin appeared suddenly;
landing on a nearby thistle head. Charlie instantly recognised it as the tatty
little specimen from the dam; with the missing tail feathers. Slowly, so as not to scare the timid bird, he
reached into one of his tackle bags and drew out a small bait box containing some
red worms. He made sure the Robin could see a bunch of the wriggling worms in
the palm of his hand then tipped them on the ground in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
bird fluttered a couple of feet away at the movement of his arm and landed on a
Sallow twig. It never took its eyes off the worms though, as they squirmed on
the ground trying to find cover in the short grass. It sat quizzically turning its
head from one side to the other for a brief moment, then deciding there was no
danger it dropped to the grass and began rounding up the escaping feast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
watched the Robin gobble up the half dozen or so worms one after another with
some amusement. He felt the little bird must surely go pop before long, and
wondered where on earth it was putting them all. As he watched the last inch of
worm disappear down the Robin’s beak with a struggle he laughed out loud,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘You’ve
just about eaten yourself cross-eyed haven’t you?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
asked the Robin. The little bird hopped back up to the thistle head and eyed
him curiously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Well
I hope you’ll remember that.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
added, laughing again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘I
shall be expecting a little bit of luck this evening.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
Robin, deciding the restaurant had finished serving, cocked its head once more
to look at him, relieved itself, and then flew off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">With
the little bird gone he made himself comfortable in a position where he could
see the pads, and relaxed into his chair. His thoughts inevitably turned to the
fateful day with his father. Not wanting to tarnish the session he was having,
which so far he’d been enjoying immensely, he pushed the bad memories to the
back of his mind and concentrated on the job in hand. Mentally planning where
he would net the carp and where he could position himself for a self-take
photograph, should he be lucky enough to catch her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
afternoon came to an end. Charlie had hardly noticed the hours slipping by.
He’d been engrossed in watching the resident bird life going about its busy day
on the water. He considered making a brew, and was just about to get out of his
chair when something caught his attention. Just beyond the baited area. A big
flat spot was hovering on the oily surface of the lake. The water heaved and
the flat spot developed into a bow wave as a big fish approached the lilies.
Charlie froze in his seat<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
held his breath and waited. She was there! In the late afternoon light he could
see her huge torso flashing beneath the surface. His mouth had dried out and he
tried to work his jaws to get back some moisture. She turned in the water
slightly then moved confidently into the pads and momentarily out of sight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">One
hand hovered over the rod butt and he gripped his trembling knee for purchase
with the other. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, the tension
showing in his furrowed brow. The lilies jerked and bent over as the big fish
rooted around for the tiny grains, he could plot the passage of the fish as it
worked its way through the dense pads, towards his bait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">For
a moment the lilies settled and he was terrified that the fish had eaten its
fill before finding his hook-bait. Seconds later the pads began dancing again
and the fish moved closer. Charlie was feeling slightly nauseas and his heart
was hammering at an alarming rate. The aggressive feeding spell had stirred the
water into a milky consistency now but through the mire he saw her big head
appear on the outside of the lilies. He watched in expectation as the great
blunt fork of her tail rose in the water and she upended herself over his bait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
knew he was a split second from hooking this fish of a lifetime, almost
definitely about to break a personal record of some fifteen years standing.
Above all though, he knew he was about to exorcise a very old ghost! He turned
his attention from the wagging tail to his rod tip and watched it with hawser
tight nerves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
was watching it still when the tatty Robin landed on it with a jolt! Charlie’s
eye followed the resulting tremor, as though in slow motion, as it travelled
down the taut line. He watched in disbelief as the signal was transmitted below
the water to the feeding fish, and he watched in horror as the water boiled and
a bow wave surged in his direction from the edge of the lilies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
looked at the Robin, still perching on the rod tip, cocking its head over to
look at him. It almost seemed as though the little bird was mocking him. He was
numb. It was all too much to take in. The harsh irony of the situation began to
sink in. His father’s words echoed through his head. He felt like a cruel and
twisted joke had just been played on him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> These thoughts raced around Charlie’s head in
a micro-second, meanwhile the bow wave continued steadily towards him. He
watched it come right past him and only then in the clearer undisturbed water
did he realise. The fish going past him was a big mirror carp!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
Robin chirruped once, and flew away. Charlie watched it go blankly. He looked
back towards the lilies with confusion.
There had been barely been time to register the briefest glimpse of a
huge tail extending up from the bottom and then his rod tip had bent around.
Acting purely from instinct, he struck and stood up and found himself firmly
attached to the big common carp!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Realising
she’d been hooked, the big carp burrowed immediately, deep into the lily pads,
gulping a mouthful of silt and vegetation and shaking her head wildly in an
effort to dislodge the offending hook from her mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
kept the pressure full on the fish, his carbon kevlar rod pulsing in his
fingers under the cork handle. He knew with the tackle he had the carp would
not break him, nor would the softened decaying lilies. By keeping the fish
under maximum pressure he would ensure the hook not slipping as the big fish
clearly intended it to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Mottled
lily pads popped up to the surface as the strong monofilament line scythed
through their stems and Charlie eventually felt the fish’s head come around a
fraction. He seized the initiative and arced the rod around horizontally,
keeping up the momentum of the moving fish. She pulled free of the lilies and
out into open water. He could feel her huge golden hull now as she hung
ponderously in the water for a brief moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Gathering
her senses, and deciding the pads were of no use to her, she moved with purpose
away from the resistance, cutting cleanly through the water at pace. Charlie
breathed a sigh of relief, he was strangely calm now. He adjusted the rear drag
reel as she cannoned off into the lake, making her work for each yard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Charlie
waited patiently for her to slow, then piled on the pressure again, once more
she came quite easily as he pumped the rod quickly, winding down furiously
between pumps and kidding her back towards him. He eased up as she came within
twenty yards of the bank, knowing she had more in the tank yet, and not wanting
her to react again, close to cover.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">His
decision was vindicated when she woke up and headed out into the open again.
This time she motored away in an awesome display of raw power. The clutch on
the reel sung out loudly and Charlie hung on to the rod tightly. For the first
few yards he dare not attempt to tamper with the drag setting, so explosive was
her strength. He regained control and stopped her after about thirty yards,
then repeated the pumping procedure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">She
didn’t come quite so easy this time, shaking her head and pulling more
stubbornly. He’d only retrieved about ten yards of line when she set off again.
This time he stopped and turned her before she’d got any real steam up. He knew
he’d got her ‘all out’ by now. The dynamic bursts began to wane, and he brought
her closer this time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">She
rolled in front of him a few yards out and came heavily towards the net. With
her energy resources diminishing the big fish summoned one last effort and
lumbered off parallel to the bank. Charlie smiled; he knew where she was
heading.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> The carp never got within ten yards of the Oak
tree. Charlie wasn’t limited by his tackle, the way his father had been all
those years ago. He knew, barring an absolute disaster, this fish was his. He
bullied her back from the direction of the Oak and placed the net in the water
in readiness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
feeling as she slid over the cord and he lifted the deep mesh of the net to
embrace her was indescribable! Forty five years of splendid pleasure and achievement
came to fruition at that joyous moment, and Charlie punched the air in victory!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As
he unrolled the huge beast onto his unhooking mat he knew he’d caught his
forty-pound carp. Her broad, perfectly scaled sides were the colour of polished
brass and she looked in peak condition, with a deep healthy lustre. Charlie
thought she was quite the most exquisite carp he’d ever seen. She weighed 42lbs
and four ounces on his scales.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">He
quickly organised himself for a few photos and with this accomplished, he put
her back in the roomy net and lowered her into the margin. She gasped gently
regaining her strength quietly in the water. He gave her ample time to recover
and when she started to nose about looking for an exit, he knew she was nearly
ready for release.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
Robin reappeared, sitting on a twig as though to watch over the proceedings.
Charlie watched it for a minute or two chuckling to himself. Then returned his
attention to the fish. He gathered the slack up in the net and cradled the
fish’s body carefully, gently rolling the mesh over her head. Raising her in
the water, for one last look before he set her free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 70.9pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">And
then he saw it, an almost imperceptible, thin ragged white line of scar tissue
on the crown of her head. He hadn’t noticed it in the excitement of the
capture, it was only visible because he was looking directly down on the carp
now. He watched her slip away numbly, the significance of it dawning on him
slowly and overwhelming him. He turned, once she had disappeared from sight,
and looked for the Robin. It still sat watching him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 70.9pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">‘Thankyou.’ </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">He
said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 73.65pt; margin-right: 73.65pt; margin-top: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Chris Hammond</span></div>
Jason Skiltonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08171305848672542984noreply@blogger.com0