Two Days

Two visitors this week, Bully and The Chubmeister General. 

Bully was determined to get a mullet before they departed for the winter and by chance picked a perfect day, calm, mild and hazy.

I was working in the morning but when I finally got down to see him I saw a rod bent double and an old bloke with a smile on his face. He'd wangled one out on a brandling on the fly rod.

We moved down river to another mark and waited for the tide to flood. I'd got the fly rod, confident of a take at least. The mullet arrived on cue, hundreds of them packed in to a tight area. I totally failed to get a response on the fly but Bully's brandling worked its magic again as he hooked in to what was obviously a very good fish.

It gave him a fantastic fight on the fly rod, until I eventually scooped it up in the net. A real beauty of 4lb 4oz.

He was chuffed, a reward for persistence and the hour plus drive he has to make each time he tries. 

Next day TCG joined me, with all his shiny new camera gear, to make a film. We walked a fair way upriver for a recce, lots of birdlife and I took him to where I'd caught the big carp. Sure enough, sitting in the reeds, in a few inches of water were five carp. There were mullet mixed in with them too.

It was dull and breezy, the weathermen had yet again failed to cover themselves in glory.

I had a couple small bass on the surface lure in the first ten minutes, then a much better fish, which unfortunately threw the hooks after a few seconds.

The mullet appeared. I couldn't get a take.

By this time it was a bit grim, duller by the minute. 

A move downstream. Mullet soup. Loads of them. 

I failed.

That is all.