Big Roach Madness

Warning '- Long self indulgent post

I was up early again the next day, there were obviously decent fish in the area, so I went back to the same spot.

First up was a clonking ide of 4lb 8oz, a great start. Then, the bream moved in. There are loads of them, decent fish too, mostly 6-7lb but a pain in the neck if you're targeting roach and ide.

When the bream thankfully drifted off I had two good roach 1lb 8oz and Ilb 11oz, before it went quiet.

Out of the blue I hooked what I thought was an average sized ide, but it seemed to be fighting a bit too well for the "weedy chub".

I got a glimpse of a silver, rather than a bronze flank and sure enough it was a big roach. A proper big roach.

Thankfully it went in the net first time and as soon as I opened the net up I knew it was over the 2lb mark. At 2lb 6oz my biggest ever and first two pounder in almost fifty years!

I re cast with wobbly legs and a silly grin on my face and as soon as the feeder hit bottom the tip went round. A similar fight and another big roach in the net, this time 2lb 0.5oz !

So, a brace of two pounders in consecutive casts after waiting a lifetime to get even one. It's a funny old game Brian

I packed up and walked back to the van for a welcome breakfast. 

The next day we had to move pitches on the campsite due to a cock up. This meant I could fish straight outside the van. 

I found a nice weedy area about twenty yards out and after baiting up lightly with half dozen feeder fulls the tip sprang back and after a short but spirited fight another clonking ide was having its photo taken.

More ide and bream followed before another big roach was banked, one that was obviously over two pounds. I put it in the net while I got the scales and on my return the roach was....gone. Oh dear.

After that it went dead, so I packed the gear away, leaving just the net and rod out whilst doing so.

Two German blokes I'd been chatting to shouted out that I'd got a bite and as I reached the rod it was thankfully still on.

It went hard in the flow and it was difficult to say what it was. One of the Germans said he saw it and it looked like a smallish bream, but as the fish rolled a flash of silver gave the game away.

It was a massive roach.

2lb 12oz and a truly huge fish.

Unbelievable. 

The following day we had a lovely long bike  ride along the river on virtually traffic free lanes. Bit different to Old Blighty.

We got back about 14.00. It must have been about 28 deg C and totally flat calm. The worst possible conditions.

As we had tea I chucked the feeder rod out, no baiting, just that feeder full. As the carp boys say, a "pub chuck".

Before I'd even sat down the tip whacked round. I couldn't believe it. A roach of 2lb 4oz. Then another of 2lb 2oz. It was getting ridiculous. 

I was then into something that was obviously not a roach, ide or bream. My first Waal barbel, going 9lb 1oz. Blimey. 

What an incredible day.

First Stop the River Waal

The sun shone as we sailed from Harwich and soon enough we were back on Dutch soil.

It being August, we just about managed to squeeze in to a riverside campsite and before I'd even tackled up S had a small zander first cast.

She followed it up with another one from a ridiculously shallow area that I would have passed by. Pre conceived ideas and all that.

The next morning I was up and about early, leading and plumbing to try and find a decent spot.

I settled on a shallow area adjacent to some weed and immediately started catching bream. Big ones of six or seven pounds. After half dozen they started to get annoying, preventing other fish getting on to the bait.

A fat pig of an ide weighing 5lb followed, after the bream disappeared. That's more like it.

Next cast and a 1lb 15oz roach. What an absolute corker. No amount of re weighing would get it to the magical two pound mark. Did I care ? Not at all.

Another lovely roach of 1lb 9oz finished the short session.

"A great start" as a friend said. It certainly was, but there was much, much better to come.

Destination.....Somewhere

The work has finished, and this evening I'm out for drinks and a meal at the best Italian restaurant in East Anglia. 

Today I blitzed an overgrown garden for a customer with customary speed and panache. It's my blog, I can say what I want.

Nobody at the property, so headphones on, music at full volume and I was grooving in the sun as I worked. 

Tony De Vit, Idles, Nick Cave, Mud ( yes, Tiger Feet ), Sleaford Mods, Morrissey, Wreckless Eric, Motorhead to name but a few.

The rake makes a decent air guitar too. Finished before 14.00. Perfect. 

On Monday we're off to somewhere in Europe for a month.

The van is packed. Somehow there are six lure rods, three feeder rods, two float rods, two barbel rods and a light sea rod along with pretty much any bit of tackle I may need.

And a ludicrous amount of lures.

Nothing booked, but the first couple of  days we'll be on the Waal for asp, zander and ide. After that, we'll make it up as we go along.

Probably fish the Lek, maybe the Meuse and definitely want to have a go for the barbel on the Ijssel again.

Then I'm thinking about heading further north. Much further north.

Aswell as fishing we'll be on the bikes every day. Nice cycling somewhere where you're not in danger of getting killed each time you go out.

I'm hoping for four weeks of sunshine and not a drop of rain. Got to settle down sometime hasn't it ?

I'll be blogging as I go.

Don't get too excited.

Midsummer

I heard this on a podcast last week.

" When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me. It still sometimes happens and they ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. 

They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. 

The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don't ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. 

We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting.

We knew we were beneficiaries of chance. That pure chance could be so generous and so kind, that we could find each in the vastness of space and the immensity of time.

The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. 

That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don't think I'll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful. "

Ann Druyan ( Carl Segan's wife )

Take a breath eh ?

I'm sitting in what I call the luxury recliner in the shade right next to the camper.

Its half three on a steaming hot afternoon and a cup of tea and the essential digestive biscuits are by my side.

I'm on the Fens again, on the fringes of that strange area of space, peace and just a little weirdness. It's most certainly not Surrey.

The timing of the trip was unfortunate, it poured down with rain on the days prior to leaving and the land drains were pumping millions of gallons of water in to the river, resulting in tonnes of weed, detritus and suspended silt floating downstream. 

That's my excuse for not catching much.

Me and Bully endured a hot and slow day with just a few bream and one decent rudd between us. That made me realise how successful many of the trips have been in last few years.

I don't really buy the " Its enough just to be here" stuff. It's fantastic to be here but much more fantastic when you catch a few.

The previous evening I'd watched a barn owl catch a vole not twenty years from me. It then flew along my bank, getting closer and closer, until it was almost on top of me. It looked me straight in the eye and bolted off over the flood bank. I've never been that close before. Incredible. 

That same evening I watched the terns diving for fry, a buzzard lazily whirling on the thermals and an otter that surfaced a few yards from the rods. Sometimes you forget these are once in a lifetime ( or never ) experiences for some people.

Yesterday I sat outside the van until midnight, drinking a cider and feasting on cheese and biscuits, basking in the rare warmth of a beautiful July evening. 

OK, sometimes it IS enough just to be there.

Heatwave

Well, a mini heatwave at least. Four days of baking temperatures up to almost thirty degrees in the east of England.

I'm sure one of the red tops will have posted a photo of a packed Brighton beach with "Phew, what a scorcher !" as the headline. Happens every year.

Brits basking ( its always basking, same as anyone drinking or partying are always "revellers"), the Mercury hitting 30C, Met Office warnings, all the clichés coming out. Standby for warnings of  swimming in "rip tides"and Margate being hotter than Madrid.

I spent almost the entire day laying outside the van on the reclining chair, listening to podcasts and audio books. How civilised. I thought I'd wait for the temperature to drop a bit before getting on the river.

Speci Boy was joining me for his first session targeting rudd, so I was hoping for plenty of action and activity.

First swim the floating bread was attacked by hoardes of mostly small fish,  with SB getting off the mark with a nicely conditioned fish of half a pound or so. 

Walking along the raised flood bank, the evening sun giving the wheat fields a beautiful golden glow and the willows starting to cast long shadows over that flat calm river it truly was a perfect evening. 

Well, almost perfect. The mozzies were on the rampage again and I was once again glad of the head net. Looking a plonker is a small price to pay for keeping the bastards at bay.

We found a group of fish that were intermittently feeding, although it was proving difficult to catch one of the better ones, until SB's rod hooped over as he pulled into something bigger. Hustled through the lillies it was soon in the net.

Not a massive fish, but a real beauty and at 1lb 13.5 oz a PB for SB. Job done.

We kept moving and searching and in "The Tree Swim" we saw a extremely large fish bow waving towards the the floating bread.  I so wish we'd have caught it as it was bloody massive. Another time maybe.

I looked up and saw a barn owl quartering the opposite bank not twenty yards away, that unmistakable ghostly vision slowly working its way along the reeds into the distance. We'd seen a kingfisher earlier so a good night on the birds too ( go on, guffaw, pretend it's 1985 ).

We packed up deep into dusk, the starlite glowing, the evening close, warm and silent, the end of a gorgeous day in June.

Summer Here - Official

At last. With a hot, sunny forecast I jumped in the camper and headed into the Fens for some more rudd fishing.

Now, as its been horrible weather since October I'm loathe to complain, but 28 degrees C ? Blimey.

Instead of doing he sensible thing and waiting until it cooled down in the evening I had to have a quick go in the afternoon. I was sweating buckets, contending with flies and covered in stinging nettles, but first cast resulted in a corker of 2lb 3oz. Fanfeckingtastic.

Great start, but things petered out and after a big veggie curry I was back in the evening.

The less said the better. Bream, swans and swarms of ravenous mozzies. It was not pleasant. 

Next morning I was out on recce along the river on the bike. Covered a fair few miles and found some nice spots. Always worth getting out for a scout about along little lanes and backwaters.

Prepped for the evening session I donned a mozzie mask. It isn't my usual expression, honest. I feel obliged to gurn for the camera.

I tried for a tench on the bottom rod, but was breamed out, hefty fish of 5-7lb, but annoying after the first five or six.

Firing bits of bread in and watching for bigger rudd I pulled in to a good fish and hustled it to the net through the lillies. An old warrior of 2lb 6oz.

I had the England Euro bore fest, match number three, against the mighty Slovenia on the radio at very low level while I fished. Its the way to do it, less painful than having to watch.

Later on I hooked a very big fish that came to the surface and then surged away before the hook pulled. Bastard ! 

I thought I'd show you the hideous carbuncle of a float I was using, with a starlite so I could actually see the bites with my Mr Magoo eyes.

It works though. Takes three swan shot and casts well.

They continued feeding until well into dusk with several rudd of 1.5 to just under 2lb ending up in the net.

Plenty of fish but if only I'd have landed that big one. Maybe next time. 

As I write this, I've just got in from another bike ride in the morning sun, having bagged up on PYO strawberries and golden raspberries and a crusty French stick. Coffee is on and I'm just about to pig out.

It ain't just about the fishing

Summer is here. It's light until gone ten, the Euros are on and the Tour De France starts this weekend.

Ave it.

Deep In The Fens

"As a fisherman, you belong to no one"

Dexter Petley.

I was a grumpy sod over the weekend.  We were due to have weekend trip in the camper to a site right in the river, but the forecast was shite so I cancelled.

Sunday I saw that the early part of the week was going to be dry and sunny. Hmm.

What to do ? Sack off work for Monday and Tuesday that's what.

I was the only one at the campsite, total quiet apart from the birds calling, perfect. Kettle on, get the tackle sorted and I'm raring to go.

The river was slightly coloured and flowing harder than normal.  Hardly surprising after all the rain. 

The fishing was quite hard, nowhere near the amount of surface activity that you'd expect, but there were fish to be had with a bit of effort.

I kept mobile and eventually got two cracking rudd over two pounds, with the best at 2lb 6oz, plus a clonking great bream.

They were hard earned fish, lots of walking, stingers, mozzies, flies and worst of all a big hurd of bullocks, which spent most of the evening staring at me and edging as close as they dared. 

The next morning I had a lay in. This is unheard of when I'm in the camper and there's fishing to be had, but Bully was joining me and I decided on a lazy start to the day. Sitting in the sun, radio on, drinking coffee, a very pleasant way to start the day.

We tried a different stretch and had some decent fish. I had an absolutely pristine rudd just over 2lb, several other nice ones and Bully had bream, some nice rudd and lost a tench at the net.

We leant a few things and although they weren't feeding hard, we still had some cracking fish, so a decent start to the season. 

I'm coming back for a longer trip next week, all being well.