Perching....and Rain

We really wanted to catch something bigger.....

There's something about constant rain that is vitiating, it saps the energy, and leaves you unable to undertake even the most simple of tasks. It seeps into your neck, your sleeves, your socks and into your very soul. Rain soaks, it bleeds, it oozes, it exudes - and it leeches endurance and fortitude as it does so; rain is the very kidnapper of  animation and enterprise, the purloiner of pizzaz and the the poacher of purpose.

Today, yet again, it rained.

Naturally, constant rain also means that all the tackle, the bags, the electronics and the very clothes in which you are attempting to stay dry, end up a soggy, heavy, waterlogged mess that takes longer to dry out than it did to get wet in the first place and then leaves the car, the house and the laundry room damp too. Also every time you venture out from under the brolly the rain somehow lashes down harder and splashes onto your seat so that eventually even ones bottom becomes cold and wet.

....a lot bigger....

Poor old Harry - he's been fishing 3 out of the last 4 Tuesdays and it's hammered down on all three - he must be really damp...

Anyway, the plan was to fish a local carp water that also has a good head of perch, some of which are over the three pound mark - we managed to ascertain that half of that supposition was correct  - we caught plenty of perch! That was after an initial mix up about venues which yours truly managed to completely screw up...

Unfortunately all the perch were all small and the only thing that was immune from their hungry attack on anything that was remotely wormy, maggoty or prawny, was a livebait - these went untouched for the whole day. 

We couldn't even dodge the rain when we packed up - the showers were incessant - and by the time I got home the Land Rover was completely misted up and almost wetter inside than out.

It didn't rain at all the following day....

Rutland writings

Harry's Tatty Jack

 The annual PAC visit to Rutland took place today and Harry and I, having learned from our excursion last year, stopped off for breakfast on the way, thus missing the mad rush and the lodge prices.

I had to laugh again at the sight of Neville running in his over trousers in his usual manic attempt to be first off the quay and onto the water. Why he thinks it’s so important to be the first away is beyond me, but if it keeps him happy…

Harry and I found some interesting features again, on a different arm to last year, but even though some of the lumps and bumps on the bottom looked very fishy, nothing was tempted from the water. I did have a follow from a lovely looking Perch over some tree stumps. The water was clear enough to see the fish flaring its gills as the Ernie lure reached the surface, before sinking away, fading into the depths like a spectre in the mist.

The day was much better than the windy, rainy day we experienced last year, but it was still a day of changing weather. Cloud, sun, showers, but not much in the way of wind was the order of the day and it wasn’t until late in the afternoon that we encountered a fish.

We were drifting slowly along when Harry quietly said “I’ve just had a follow, Mike.” We continued to drift over the spot and a while later Harry was into a fish on a spring dog copy. It was a tatty looking jack, and it just about destroyed the cheap lure, which probably is a moral in itself.

And that was it. Others caught, but most didn’t; there were two twenties and a handful of doubles and jacks, but the real fish defeated us again.

Still, there’s always next year.

Charity Day - The Kelly Twins

Earlier this year, Mark Barrett set up an auction on the Pike and Predators web site in order to raise money for a charity for one of the forum members. I placed a bid and managed to obtain a day with Tim Kelly in his boat on the Thames around Snetterton, just a few minutes from my daughter’s house. Our original plan was to fish for the elusive Zander and Perch and although we tried for them, it was the pike that were predominant through the day.

I met Tim in the car park at 5.30 as the mist was beginning to drift in upward spirals and the day brightened. We immediately launched the boat after some frantic trailer manoeuvring on Tim’s part, and made our way to one of the many weirpools in the area. It turned into a lovely morning and I was surprised at how much the sun shone through the water into the weirpool. The river was a lot clearer than I thought it would be and the sun glinted off the spoon as I retrieved it to the boat at a considerable depth. Tim was into some jacks almost immediately, but it was some time before I started on my catch card.

We caught fish in the weirpools, along the banks; we caught them trolling and casting and we had an awful lot of fun trolling small hornets to catch some perch. Unfortunately, these turned out to be smaller than we had hoped for. However, they were still fun to catch among the pier legs, cabbages and jetties along the river.

We had a shore lunch in a local hostelry which went down delightfully and allowed our clothes to dry after a short, sharp shower had caught us some distance from the pub, and I found Tim to be a great person to chat to. He seems content with life and was having a laugh with his wife on the phone which is always a great sign for a keen fisherman. Being self employed allows him to choose his time on the river to a certain extent and he seems to enjoy company, choosing to fish with friends, rather than alone.

I chose to fish with Tim, because he’s a successful lure angler. I put this success down to his focus, his knowledge of the water and his dextrousness with the boat. His ability to cast and retrieve lures while controlling the electric motor, keeping the boat in position was remarkable and enabled me to fish without having to worry about where I was. I found myself casting and taking for granted the fact that I would be where I needed to be. Tim would turn the boat and say ‘Try over there Mike.’ Or ‘Just by the cabbagy goodness…’, and, sure enough, most times we’d get a hit.

Tim easily outclassed me in terms of numbers of fish catching at least double the number that I did, but it didn’t matter, I had a wonderful day, I caught fish and I enjoyed Tim’s company immensely.

I also caught the biggest fish of the day.

Fat, Fit and Fiesty

I thought I would have an early morning piking trip along this top part of the local river. Franc and I had a walk along here a few evenings ago and I saw some fry jumping near an overhanging bush, so I thought I would investigate.

It was drizzling and overcast for the first couple of hours, but I started with a slider jerkbait going on to try the Sossy Perch, but the first fish, a very nice Perch of around two pounds or so came to a shad soft plastic in firetiger. It took on the drop and from the area where I saw the fish swirling the other evening. A nice fish, and very welcome at that hour of the morning.

I walked right back along to the lock without so much as a knock, trying various lures, spoons and plugs, until I was actually standing on the weir bridge. I cast up river with a Shakespeare Big S and had a savage take, but the fish came off. I thought it might have been a jack, because it felt ‘toothy’ but on the next cast it hit the lure again. My 'toothy' jack turned itself into a lovely Chub of three pounds; a fat, fit and fiesty fighter that capped off my early morning jaunt very nicely, thank you. So not a bad morning in all, but no Pike, which is a little strange for such a jack infested river.