Saturday 28 September 2024

You Can't Always Get What You Want

Copyright Mick 'n Keef 1969

Since the ridiculously successful and enjoyable European trip I've been mostly catching next to nuffink.

Last Sunday the camper was pointed in the direction of the glorious north Norfolk coast in search of bass. We ( Bully and me ) were covered for all eventualities, I'd dug lug and ragworm locally for two bloody days on the trot and the lure box was full.

The post equinox tides were perfect, as were the conditions and I knew exactly where to go. Or so I thought. 


Unfortunately the fish had other ideas and on the first evening we ended up with a couple of smallish bass and a few flatties. Not really what I was expecting. 

The following day we made a long trek with the lure rods to a beautiful and remote spot that had been producing good numbers of fish in recent weeks.



We gave it a good try but totally failed and the walk back seemed a bit longer than earlier in the day, where we strided out full of expectation.

What to do the rest of the week ? Head for the tidal Trent, that's what.

Bully had sloped off home to pick his wounds so I was flying solo this time.

The river looked spot on, about four or five feet up and nicely coloured. I caught bream ( of course ), roach, dace, chub, bleak, pike and zander, but not a sign of a barbel. To me, that's unfathomable.  It's full of them and even the long stay "carbarbellers" who camped out overnight were not catching.



At first I was a bit disappointed, but sitting in a country pub demolishing a fantastic breakfast I pondered on being lucky enough to spend so much time fishing and pleasing myself.


On the last day I tried a new spot and had a variety of species, nothing to set the world alight, but a bit of action nonetheless. 

The promised rain held off all day and at one stage I was in a T shirt such was the power of the sun. Later in the afternoon it felt a bit more autumnal but I made it back to the camper without getting soaked and with my first Trent zander under my belt.


It blew a hoolie overnight and after a leisurely breakfast I headed home, singing along to the greatest playlist in the world for three hours. 

Love it.










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