Showing posts with label Rigs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rigs. Show all posts

Tuesday, 3 October 2017

Organisation


I'd forgotten how organised you need to be when beach fishing in the dark. I figured I could rock up with two rods, a bucketful of bait and a rig or two somewhere in the box and just catch fish. It had not entered my mind that it might be dark on a beach at 4.30 in the morning without reading glasses to see with or how difficult threading lug worm onto a baiting needle can be in those circumstances.

Pre-dawn

It was my birthday - a big one - so I decided to get up very early to catch the seven o'clock low tide and start the day off watching the sun rise and feel that glow of early morning sun to offset the iridescence of smugness one attains for crawling out of bed that early. 

I'd had a bit of a panic in the preceding days, as my Conoflex rod wouldn't fit together and after a mad week or so using wire wool on the ferrule, rubbing like a mad Aladdin trying to summon a recalcitrant Genie, I switched to fine emery paper and sorted it in less than five minutes. It slipped together with ease after that. 

Then I realised that after 20 or so years without use, my rod tip lights and headlights would probably be unfit for purpose and I was right, so I needed to buy new tip lights and new batteries for everything. My fishing clothes were OK so I assumed I was ready.....

Tuesday was calm and clear so with a fresh coffee and some healthy, sustaining, rich tea biscuits I grabbed the gear and walked the 100 yards or so to the water's edge. I set up the Zziplex, struggled like mad to bait the hooks ( no glasses you see) and cast out the first rig. The Conoflex slipped together easily but the reel was a bit loose and the coasters were rusted up but I eventually managed to bait those hooks and cast out. 

I sat back to relax but the Zziplex was bouncing around so I picked it up, struck and reeled in. A small whiting was wriggling for freedom and within a minute or two (no glasses) I returned it and eventually baited the hooks again (!)

Time to bring in the Conoflex - difficult because the reel had fallen off completely now. But I struggled on after the appliance of gaffer tape - not easy in the dark without glasses - well, you know...


The sun appears...


I was grateful for the dawn - my smug iridescence had long since dissipated - and eventually I just fished with the one rod, but at least the Conoflex came apart easily...! I had 7 or so small whiting and a big reminder about fishing in the dark, but I have to say, minor issues apart it was a good start to the day and my smug glow returned eventually. 
 
I realise I have a lot to learn all over again, especially seeing the professional looking anglers around me on the beach; sorting my gear will help, but all the time I still get excited about catching fish, any fish - and while my enthusiasm still carries me along - I shall carrying on.....














Thursday, 23 February 2012

Don’t just do something – sit there!



This is another published article....I hope you like it....

When I was a kid, my father and I used to love the verbal antics of Stanley Unwin and the great Doctor Spooner. The latter was brought to fabulous fame by the late Ronnie Barker in a sketch by The Two Ronnies. My Dad and I spent hours in Unwin dialogue or inventing new Spoonerisms which would have us falling about on the carpet or giggling wildly in the streets of Germany, where I was brought up as a child. Much of the Germans’ strange views about the British may well have been brought about by my Father and I staggering down the streets of Hanover with tears in our eyes as a new phrase or expression tumbled out of our mouths. For some reason, the juxtaposition of syllables, words and phrases always seemed to be just the funniest thing in the world.

Doctor Spooner, particularly, was a favourite of mine and I still often chuckle at some of the reversed phrases that had me in stitches as a child. Some of his expressions have even made their way onto Birthday cards – ‘’No, no nurse I asked you to prick his boil!” or ‘’I’m sorry for the mix up Mr Smith, but apparently the Doctor said I should slip off your spectacles – my mistake!’’ My favourite original occurred when Dr Spooner was asked what he wanted for breakfast:

“Hot toated bust, my man, with my thanks.”

However, now that the years are creeping on I find that my childhood comes back to haunt me and Spoonerisms have slipped into my daily language at an alarming rate that Wogan would refer to as continuous Senior Moments. Only recently whilst abjectly trailing my wife around a local supermarket I asked her if she had remembered to buy the Granny Gravules! And on another occasion, meaning to refer to myself as “Your White Shining Knight in Armour”, I instead stammered out the phrase ‘Your Whining Sh**e!’

She agreed with me by the way!

None of this has of course anything to do with Pike Fishing at all, but it does remind me of a phrase my Father used to use when, as a teenager, I showed some reluctance to helping with the washing up or starting on my homework. He would come up behind me and in his soft, but authoritative brogue, he would whisper in my ear: ‘Don’t just do something, sit there, you lazy wee beggar!’ and, naturally I would then get up to help with whatever chores required attention with as much enthusiasm as a dog going to the vets to have a minor undercarriage operation.

Anyway, I was thinking about the different ways that we all fish and how occasionally, we get back home and wonder if we could have done something different, fished in a another spot or used other tactics to catch our chosen quarry. Do we really work at our fishing? Do we really give ourselves a chance to catch? Or do we throw out our deadbaits and wait for something to happen? It’s easy, sometimes, to get comfortable and forget that inactivity on our part may result in a poor day’s fishing or even a blank.

I’m assuming that we have found areas that do usually contain fish, as location is another complete subject in itself, but one that we should not ignore. However, it may be that on a given day the fish have fooled us and are either elsewhere, or are keeping a low profile for whatever reason best known to themselves. In either case there are things that we can do to make the best of the days fishing. I’m also discussing deadbait fishing here, because there are many articles on lure fishing - which is a pretty active niche of our sport anyway - and live baiting, which has a life of its own as well and therefore not relevant to this piece; and so we’re back to location again.

What, then, can we do to improve our chances when using the static deadbait technique that seems relatively popular with many pike anglers?

Move

One action we can take is to relocate if the swim we are in is proving to be unproductive. This sounds obvious but there are a number of factors to take into consideration first. Have we entirely covered our initial swim with baits and are we sure that we have placed them on the noses of any Pike that may be too lethargic to move or are not really feeding? It’s too easy to leapfrog or change swims on a pit (assuming you are able to do so – more of that later!) without having fully fished the one you were in. Often there are several areas in the same swim that may require our attention before we consider moving on.

I used to be bad at this, my daughter calls me a dwarf doctor – a man of little patience, (you see what she did there…?) and often I would cast out a few baits, give them just 20 minutes or so and then move if no takes were forthcoming. Actually, I think this smacks of low confidence more than impatience, because if you know that the fish have been there in the past and should be there now, then perhaps a little extra time may be needed. It’s also possible that there are more areas in that one swim than can be covered by two or three rods, in which case all these areas should be fished fully before moving on. Pike are not always on the hunt, sometimes they are lying quietly, but a close encounter with a meal may induce them to take it. We should not always assume that the fish will move 5 yards or so to inspect a bait.

To take an example of one 40 acre gravel pit I fish, there is a certain area which has five or six fishable locations reachable from one bankside spot. There is a dropoff about 35 yards out from one swim, and beyond that, about a further 8 or nine yards there is a small gulley. The gulley is only about a foot deep and maybe 30 yards long, but sometimes this will produce a fish when the dropoff does not and vice versa. To the left is a culvert and often a fish will be located a few yards away from this, or sometimes, a little further away still, under the bankside willows.

To the right of this same swim is a marginal shelf which runs for 20 – 25 feet or so before dropping gently into deeper water and fish have been taken here in the past, too. So, in this one swim, which is only large enough for one person to fish at any time, there are, at the very least, five different areas, not counting both ends of the gulley or the far end of the marginal shelf. Some of these spots aren’t very far from each other, but it is surprising how reluctant pike are to move at times, even just a few feet. We will revisit this swim a little later. You can see though, I hope, how easy it can be to move before each area has been given a fair chance to produce.

Many of us avoid margin fishing and I think the main reason is because we assume that we have scared all the fish away with our arrival. I almost always place my first bait in the margins whilst setting up the other rods, but you do have to be quiet. I know, I know – it’s very obvious, but the times I see somebody turn up at a swim and drop their rucksack on the floor, stamp around for 10 minutes while setting up, before casting the first bait towards the horizon, are just too numerous to ignore. None of this stuff is new, but it does sometimes need to be repeated, most of us have forgotten more about Pike Fishing than we care to consider. I proved this to myself again recently when fishing with some of the PAC committee. My best fish of the day came from the first cast under an overhanging bush and resulted in a seventeen pounder ably netted and photographed by John Cahill, which earned him a hot sausage sandwich! Margins are always, but always, worth a try.

Another factor to take into account when considering another swim is the feasibility of actually moving all our gear to a new location. I know that nowadays some Pikers travel light, especially when fishing rivers or drains, but when it comes to fishing pits there are still many anglers who settle in a swim for the entire session, and I really think that sometimes this is because it is just too much hassle to move. Hands up anybody reading this that has to use a trolley to get to the swim simply because all the gear is just too heavy to carry. It stands to reason then, that if it is too much effort to move then we may spend a wasted few hours in a swim which is either devoid of pike or has non-feeding pike within it.

Now and again – about once or twice a season - it’s a good idea to upend your rucksack onto the garage floor and have a good old rummage about. Don’t do it on the bank – it can be really depressing! Do you really need a pound and a half of lead weights? Or, eight different oil flavours and sixteen pike floats? The last time I looked in my rucksack I found three different books that I had finished reading but forgotten to take out. If you have too much gear, you will be reluctant to move, especially on the cold days when Fred J Taylor’s “I’ll be glad when I’ve had enough of this” philosophy is really relevant.

So, yes, do consider a move, but only once you are as certain as you can be that the swim you’re in is not going to be productive. Mind you, there are two sides to this coin. I have returned home to think, ‘should I have moved swim?’ almost as often as I have thought: ‘Should I have stayed where I was?’

Twitch

Sometimes a move is either not possible or unnecessary. It can be that there are no other swims available, and not just because the location you are fishing is crowded, but maybe because there are very few swims on the water you are fishing that ever contain pike. Mind you, “never say never” is a good motto to have as an angler. It also may not be necessary to move because you know that the fish are where you are, but they’re not feeding. In this latter instance, I guess that we are relying on past experience and guesswork. But if you are fishing in a known hotspot and not catching fish, then a move may prove pointless. I will give an example of this shortly, but first, what can we do to tempt a non-feeding pike into taking our bait?

One technique, widely publicised, but not so widely utilised, is the art of twitching a deadbait back to the bank, gradually over a half an hour or so. If the swim is clear of snags, this is a relatively simple task. I just pull about two or three feet of line in by hand and then reel it back onto the spool before re-setting the drop-off indicator. I pull the line by hand rather than just reeling it in because I can ‘feel’ what’s going on at the lead end more easily. This way I can feel any undulations on the bottom, but, more importantly, I can feel for snags, weed, gravel etc. It’s even simpler when using a float, of course, but distance is a little harder to achieve and distance is important, because you want to cover as many spots as possible on the way back. For this reason I use this technique most on the rod cast furthest away and obtain maximum movement across the lake.
If the swim is not so clear or relatively unknown, then I use a buoyant deadbait set anything from 12 inches to three feet from the bottom, and although it’s probably unnecessary, I use an uptrace too. In my mind I can picture the deadbait wavering enticingly near the bottom after each retrieval. As any good lure angler will tell you, it pays to think like a fish and I think that a gently wafting bait must look a little more tempting to an un-hungry pike than a static one.
I have caught many fish using this method, with more fish coming to the popped up version, but certainly both techniques catch and catch well. To reinforce this just ask yourself whether you have ever caught fish just as you pick up the rod to start winding in. Or whether fish have followed your bait in only to turn away at the last minute as soon as it spotted your bemused face at the bankside! The pike has seen movement and has acted upon it – it works! And it probably works more often than we know because we can’t always see the fish that follow the bait or are patiently nosing it when we start to reel in.



Wobble

Another great technique often overlooked is the art of deadbait wobbling. Not only can it entice non-feeding pike into action, it can warm up a cold and bored angler with a bit of activity.

Really, it’s just a more active version of the twitching technique and, in fact, the deadbait can be as active or static as you want it to be. This last point, for me, depends on many factors, but the two main ones are time of year/temperature and depth of water.
Generally - and it is only a generalisation - fish, including pike are less active in colder temperatures and I take this into account when wobbling. I will move the bait slower if the water is colder – generally. But, as I said earlier, never say never. I have had pike chase a bait that has been wound in at some speed whilst there has been a hard frost on the ground, and very low water temperatures.

Now to depth of water. Because I like to use as little weight as possible when wobbling, depth of water is important. The deeper the water, the longer it takes for the bait to reach the bottom and I don’t want to rush it either. The best part of wobbling is the take on the drop. Nothing makes the heart beat faster than a take whilst you are waiting for the bait to touch bottom. So when the water is deeper more time is spent making sure that the deadbait keeps in touch with the bottom and the bait, therefore out of necessity moves slower.

On some waters I fish and more particularly the rivers, you can put a lot more movement into the bait, raising it to the surface and letting it sink back to the bottom. With deeper water you have to pick a half to work in, either the top half or the bottom half, or even choose which third to work in if the water is very deep.

There have been many articles on deadbait wobbling rigs so I won’t cover them here except to say that I prefer to use just the weight of the fish itself where possible. I like it to look as lifelike as possible (even though it’s a deadbait!). If weight is needed then I keep it as small as I can. Wobbling can be a deadly method on its day and ignored at peril.
Jerk

Occasionally, I carry a light lure rod and a box of whatever happens to be sparkly to me at the moment. (Ooh look, pretties, my dear! said Fagin.) Lures to me are like spangles of wonderment; I am drawn by their shape, colour and feel, far more than I am attracted by their perceived technical ability. I don’t even care if they catch fish sometimes as long as they look nice! Except sliders – I love sliders, I love the way they mooove.

Because of that major flaw in my pike fishing attention span, I either don’t carry any lures at all, or I’m trying out some new ones, and therefore carry them and them alone, whether they’re suitable for the venue or not. But I do catch on them and chucking a lure around can warm up cold feet and hands. I’ve almost always got a spoon, somewhere!
Please don’t wander away from your rods though; I’m certainly not advocating roaming around the pit you are on leaving unattended rods on the far side of the lake or hopping off down the river bank too far away to reach your rods quickly in the event of a take on the baits. Also, don’t be tempted to use an extra rod that you don’t have a licence for, because the fines are large and the ignominy even larger. That said, using sparklies in your swim can sometimes induce a fish to move and that fish might just pick up your deadbait if it can’t be bothered to chase your lure.
I remember a mild October day in the Lake District many years ago. The morning had been long and unspectacular, but the afternoon had resulted in four runs in an hour or so, before quietening down again, with not a touch for two hours. I had decided to pack up at around 4 ish, and at half past three I reluctantly pulled out the lure rod and chucked a Kuusamo around in a desultory fashion to waste a little bit of time and to discourage myself from packing up early. I was jolted into wakefulness by a huge take on the spoon, a hefty weight, and then nothing. I threw the spoon another dozen or so times but couldn’t entice the fish to take it again. I was putting the rod back in the quiver and turning around to start packing away the other gear when the bite alarm dropped off the left hand rod fishing a popped up sardine, and the line peeled off the spool. It was a low double, but to this day I’m convinced that it was the same fish. I have no way of knowing of course, but it is a coincidence that has just happened a few times too often to convince me that cause and effect aren’t occurring. I firmly believe that sometimes running a lure through the swim can encourage a fish out of lethargy in the same way a sleeping cat can be enticed awake with a toy mouse on a string. It’s not always possible to carry a lure rod as well as all the other paraphernalia – I know that, and I certainly don’t want to encourage the trolley angler any further – but where it is possible, try and take a couple of lures and a rod. It’s another method, another activity that just might turn a blank into a catch.

I don’t know whether we all analyse our fishing, I know that some of us do, but I do know that if we all went home after every trip having caught at least one fish, we’d all be happier and better anglers. It’s the catching fish that gives us most of our experience. It’s certainly the catching fish that gives us our confidence, so the more fish we catch…well, you know.

Next time you’re cold and tired and temped to sit under your brolly, pull up your collar and pull down your hat, just give some thought about whether doing something active might help land a fish – maybe even a big fish - and whether that’s worth the effort. Let’s get it right this time – Don’t just sit there – do something.

Saturday, 25 August 2007

A Touch of Autumn

It was a chilly morning...
Another overnighter, with a few different approaches in an attempt to tune some of the rigs that I’ve been using. I’m afraid that the fishing this year has taken a back seat, with work being so busy – both mine and Franc’s. And if we’re not working, then we’re decorating the flats or trying to keep on top of the garden with all the rain we’ve been having. Later on in the year we have a trip to Holland and the States, so it’s not going to get better for a while.

I always get the rods out first, especially here, as three can be fished, but I usually only cast two, leaving the third to do some plumbing around. Then when the rods are out I’ll set up the Shelter and everything else, then when all is shipshape, I’ll make a brew. The weather was definitely heading towards autumn, with this being a Friday and the only day for about the last 10 that hasn’t seen rain, there was a distinct chill to the air.

My daughter, Laura-Anne turned up around mid-morning, bringing some ginger cake, shortbread, sausage rolls and scones – all home made of course. Harry turned up too, no doubt homing in on the smell of cake. We all had a nice long chat though, Harry staying longer than LA, and he seemed to be yearning to get beside some water himself – he’s been busy too.

And so the day passed, with nothing happening on the fishy front. I cast the rods out ready for the night: pineapple boilies, fake corn and special luncheon meat being the baits for the purpose of attracting the bream or tench. I am, of course after the female bream, but have so far only caught the males, identifiable by the tubercles that cover them and make them look so tatty. Tonight was to be no different, and, unfortunately, the tench failed to show again.

Kelly Kettle
At around 2.30 am, with the mist swirling and my breath a huge plume of vapour in the suffused moonlight, the first bream of six and a half pounds was brought into the net. I was shocked at how low the temperature had dropped. I was sleeping in a tee shirt and shorts and gasped as the cold wrapped around my naked legs as I weighed the fish.

At 5.30 am another bream of 6.10 was on the bank, this one having taken the meat, the first fish the boilies. It was still very misty, but gradually, the sun pushed it’s way through and the morning began to warm up as I packed away the gear, stowing it in the car, and leaving the rods until last.

Thursday, 2 August 2007

Going back...


It’s been over six years since I fished this lovely looking pit in the heart of the Kent countryside. I had a short Bream campaign at that time, which culminated in some nice fish up to just short of the nine pounds mark. It’s a hard water, but it’s one of those lakes that always looks just the part. Lilies, lush overhanging trees, clear water and an abundance of wildlife make up the pretty, micro environment hidden away in a motorway junction. Of course, there is no escaping the traffic noise, even at night the motorway, just some 300 yards away over a small rise, can be heard droning away like a nest of angry wasps.

That aside though, there are some nice bream and tench in here but they are very hard to come by, so I’m not after expecting much. It will be nice to spend the odd night here despite the noise from the traffic. The carp in here grow very big too – into the thirties by all account, and there’s always the possibility of a chance encounter with them.

I arrived nice and early, hoping to get three feeding spells in and set up two rods while I did some plumbing around with the third. From the past campaign I knew that the prime feeding area for the bream was about 60 yards out in the middle of the lake where the bottom seemed a little harder and the water is about 16 feet deep. As for the tench – well I picked out some spots around the lilies and one spot under the tree away to the left.

I made up a dozen or so goody bags of pellets in PVA and fired a few out with the catapult. Two rods were semi fixed leads with hair rigged fake corn on a neutral buoyancy rig and pineapple boilie, the third rod was set up with an in line maggot feeder filled with red maggots and with two pop up hair rigged casters on the sharp end.

At seven fifteen, just after I arrived, this last rod was away with a very typical bream bite making the bobbin jump around like an epileptic flea. After a short and unconvincing fight a tatty looking male bream of 6 pounds ten ounces was in the landing net. It was still covered in spawning tubercles and was, unfortunately, well below the average size that the bream are reported to be. But these are, of course, male Fish and it’s the females we’re looking for.

I’m sorry to say that that was all that came along. Through the night I had a few jerky sort of bites that may have been line bites or maybe the feeder wasn’t heavy enough. There are a lot of eels in this water and, apparently, mitten crabs, but whether that latter rumour can be substantiated or not, remains to be seen. There are rig refinements I will need to look at next time, as well as researching some alternative baits. The other two rods with boilies and fake corn, remained completely untouched, so a rethink may be called for.

Saturday, 7 July 2007

Overnighters

I’ve never actually achieved a comfortable overnighter in all my years of fishing and so I’ve kept away from them to some extent. I don’t like bivvies per se, preferring open fronted shelters because I don’t like the seemingly total detachment from fishing that close fronted bivvies provide. I’ve never worked out how to sleep comfortably whilst fishing and get up the next morning without feeling like death warmed over.

Until now.

There’s a trick to it all you see and I’ve missed that trick right up until last night. You just need the right stuff but you need to use it the right way. For example: you don’t sleep in a sleeping bag, you sleep on it! That way a bed chair is infinitely more comfortable and with a Trakker Sleeping Bag cover over the top, there is absolutely no need to sleep in winter bib and brace and winter jacket. Therefore sleeping is easier. The other option previously was to try to sleep without wearing winter clothes but freeze to death; those days are over now. Last night I was snug and warm for the first time, and although the bream didn’t let me get much sleep, it was much much better than previously. The other plus, of course, is that if you sleep in a sleeping bag, the getting out of it can be a nightmare when you’re in a hurry. With the Trakker cover, you just shrug it aside and jump out. Well, perhaps not jump…

I decided on the F*x Evolution Brollie X with groundsheet and winter wrap. Lumby had mentioned the Aqua Brollie System, but I think I wanted something a little more substantial and something that could be used for a couple of nights, if necessary. I also wanted some thing that was quick to erect, and a brollie would have achieved that, but the Evo is pretty fast when you get the hang of it. It’s light to carry and open fronted. I haven’t tried the wrap for it yet, and there was no need for it last night. The temperature dropped after dark, as the sky cleared after a grey, windy day, but I was warm under the Trakker. All I could catch over the twenty-seven or so hours I fished were bream. Most were around the three pound mark, with the biggest at about 4 and a half. I caught them on boilies, pellets and plastic corn (a first), but of the Tench, nothing was seen. If I tried maggots, I couldn’t get away from the small rudd. I used my usual simple rig – through bomb and short kryston hair rig – as casting is only short distance here, and put one in the middle near the pads and one fairly close-in to the margins. I used goodie bags filled with pellets and boilies and fired a few freebie bags to the longer-range rig and threw in a few handfuls for the nearer rig.

The average size of the bream in the past has been around five pounds, but these larger fish didn’t show at all. Just the small ones – at ten to two in the morning and a rude awakening at quarter to five, as well as at all other times!

Sunday, 29 October 2006

First Twenty (Going Dutch)

Well, here we are back in Rotterdam as Franc is working with our good friends in the city for two days. I decided to fish the River Keen just outside Strijen in a spot I found in May. I wasn’t sure if I could fish with three rods or not, so, setting up in the dark, I put out two rods with deadbaits which had been carefully transported across the channel, France, Belgium and Holland. These included some lovely fresh Herrings I bought in Deal and froze immediately. They were the freshest herrings I had ever seen, still pink and bright eyed.

Nothing actually happened until about 9 o’clock when I had a take on a half mackerel float legered against the reed bed opposite my swim. The fish fought well and was soon hand landed. I weighed her at 15.12 and was chuffed to bits with her. She was my second largest fish to date after all and so I was very pleased. I had a couple more takes from the same place over the next hour or so and lost one fish, but the bites do seem to be quite twitchy, not exactly screaming runs.
In the meantime, the other, legered bait had also been receiving attention of a twitchy nature, but at about 2.15pm I leaned into one such take and hooked a fish. The bait was half herring fished as far as I could cast (not far in the wind) up along the reed bed toward, but not reaching, the overhanging trees. She fought well and stayed quite deep and as I netted her I felt she could be a twenty pounder. At 21.03 I was so pleased I could have done a Gord Burton and yelled Yeeee-Haaah at the top of my lungs - but I didn't! I sacked her and carefully to allow both her and me to recover for half an hour or so. A nice Dutch couple came along at about that time and took the photographs for me before I gently slipped her back. She had been nicely hooked in the front of the mouth but I also removed another treble from her gill rakers, so obviously others fish here for the pike.I had no more takes at all in the afternoon, so I packed up to drive back to the hotel, very pleased with my day’s fishing.

The next morning saw me back at the swim before first light, setting up in the dark again. Remember though, that in Holland as the closks don't go back in the winter, it doesn't really get light until about 8am at this time of year. This early start was made all the harder due to a late night out in Rotterdam with René in a lovely cigar bar. I was suffering a bit. The wind had switched overnight and was blowing a lot stronger into the reed bed where I caught the fish yesterday. As yesterday, nothing happened at all until after 9am, when I had a run on float legered sardine against the reedbed, right on the corner. These fish do seem to switch on at a set time here. It was another double at 12.03, a long lean fish and completely different to the next I was to catch an hour or so later.

After no activity for a while I cast the legered half herring into a small depression in the reed bed to my right and almost immediately had a run which resulted in a short stocky pike of 11.12.So in a day and a half’s fishing I had four doubles totalling some 61 pounds in weight, an average of 15 pounds per fish. Not bad, Mikey, not bad at all.