Waterland

We headed north about twenty miles to the "Groene Hart" , a land full of djkes, drains and canals.

Most of these places contain carp of varying sizes. The place we stayed was surrounded by perfect looking, lily fringed water.

But you shouldn't jump to conclusions.  We walked and cycled miles, me on the lookout for tell tell signs of carp. Nothing. Not one sighting.

Back at the camp we had a tiny djke backing on to us.

A few casts produced small roach and rudd, there were hoardes of them. A couple of handfuls of hemp/corn mix were chucked in to see if anything bigger was present.

An hour later while having our tea outside the van, I saw a big patch of bubbles. Tea was put on hold and a big bit of flake put on the hook, under a piece of peacock quill.

A couple of minutes later the float slid away and an obviously much larger fish was on. Small carp I thought, but no, a lovely tench around 3lb. That'll do.

After tea I didn't, as you might expect, carry on fishing. I got on the bike and had a recce at another,slightly larger canal, just outside the campsite.

A few hanfuls of the old faithful hemp and corn mix was deposited in a couple of swims, ready for an exploritory session early next morning. 

Arriving at dawn, the swim was full of bubbles,it was like a cauldron ! But.....not a bite!

Not to be beaten, I returned the following morning and had a great result. Decent roach and rudd to 1.25lb, chunky silver bream, two nice tench and a huge great bream. All on a simple float set up and the old classic Mk1 Drennen Tench rod.

"On the bike" , a rod, net, bait bucket and bits and pieces in your pockets. The crazy thing is that in all the miles we've cycled over the last few days, we've only seen two anglers. There's so much to go at, but you just have to "suck it and see" and find out yourself.

More cycling and fishing planned.

Off Again

We got the ferry over to Holland, with rough plans to visit western Germany and the Ardennes in Belgium/northern France.

First stop however, was the mighty Waal, in the Netherlands. The river was at near record low levels, but let's be clear, it's still six hundred yards wide !

There was far less flow and compared to normal standards, far greater clarity, which unsurprisingly made the fishing tough.

There were still some excellent fish to be had though and over five short sessions I had roach to 2lb 14oz,  some very nice bluenose to 2lb 8oz, big bream and a monster ide of 6lb 2oz, a new PB.

An additional bonus was that we secured a riverside pitch and when we were sat outside the camper one evening, a beaver swam by and ended up on the beach not twenty yards away.

We've moved on to somewhere very different now, a little place in the "Grone Hart", with djkes and polders criss crossing the land for miles. The possibilities are endless.

Let's see what fish they hold.

Glorious Flatlands

Up on the north Norfolk coast again, thirty miles of endless sand dunes, marshes and reedbeds, bursting with wildlife and yes, very, very big skies.

I was on the hunt for thick lipped mullet, or at least that was the nominal reason for a few days in ( one of ) my favourite places in the world. 

Monday I went out at dusk looking for nightjars. I waited, then waited some more, until just on dark thay showed. That weird churring, as the bird sits somewhere in the heathland and then the high pitched, short calls of birds on the wing. It was almost totally dark before a pair flew over me and then disappeared in the blink of an eye. A real buzz.

I walked back to the van through the woodland, torchless, the scent of honeysuckle and pine trees in the nostrils and the sound of muntjaks barking in the distance.

Tuesday I met Waaaak for a pint in a proper pub and then embarked on the long trek to the beach. And what a beach, miles of flat, golden sand, backing on to dunes and creeks and back channels running mosaic like round the marshes.

I missed my only take, but what a place.

In the evening I joined Charlie boi on the beach to record an episode for the podcast. Hadn't seen him for a while, so lots of piss taking ensured and tales were told. The man doesn't give a feck.

Next day, I walked for miles, bins at the ready, looking for mullet. A few showed, not really enough to give a chance of catching, but the lack of angling was compensated by a huge amount of wildlife.

Spoonbills, three types of egret and three species of tern, ringed plovers, reed buntings, stonechats, eider duck, a tree creeper and countless others.

In the marshes I saw Chinese water deer, roe and munjak, hares, a toad ( not Nigel ) and a lizard.

Once again, a great trip in a wild, beautiful  area. Lucky to live only a couple of hours away, looking forward to returning already.

This England

No, not the England of little Tommy, Mr Toad and the flagshaggers, an England that still exists, hanging on, whilst the shitehawks, grifters and ruthless corporations do their worst. 

North Norfolk,  one of my favourite places, unchanging ( almost ) and always a joy to visit.

We were bus wankers for a week and I bloody loved it. Thumbs up to Sanders coaches. 

Titchwell, Wells, the magnificent Picnic Fayre in Cley ( with entitled middle class twonk parking on double yellows, shouting work instuctions into his mobile, blocking the tiny street ), a pint with Wak at the Dun Cow in Salthouse and we even battled it out with the hoardes at West Runton and Sheringham.

A magnificent week in one of Old Blightys best spots.

Back on the Mud

It's warm, sunny and we've lost that nasty northerly wind, so that can only mean one thing.

Time to get back on the tidal river.

Bass on the top water lures.

Mullet on the fly. Feeding well at the moment. 

Two yesterday and two this morning.  I took Dicky Boy today, to show him the static fly method.

He loved watching the mullet nosing along the edge, occasionally swirling and bolting. He was less keen on the mud, more specifically the Mud Pit of Doom. He stopped for a breather and found himself stuck. 

Rule Number 1, keep moving

He is not alone in this, every "guest" hates it. 

Packing the camper for a few days in north Norfolk, with the fly and lure rods of course.

Forecast is hot and sunny. That'll do.

In The Dutch Groove

With no further sign of grassies, the next morning I scaled down somewhat, to 7lb line and a strong size 10 with double corn, in the hope that I'd have a few more tench.

I'd had a couple over the last two days on heavy carp gear, with three grains of maize on a size 6, so they weren't especially fussy.

The bream were still active ( surprise surprise ), but by fishing a few yards away from the main baited area you seemed more likely to get a tench or carp.

It wasn't hectic fishing but they were all in good condition and really scrapped hard. I was using an old Fox 12 foot Floater rod, a cracking tool, with a very soft tip with power in the butt, just about perfect for this type of work.

Scaling down a bit resulted in five nice tench to 5lb 8oz, my biggest canal fish, so a good mornings fishing in my book.

The fishing is what we come for on these trips obviously, but it really is just a part of the experience.

Typically, we fish the morning, then retire to the van for a big breakfast, usually a dirty omelette ( copyright me ), coffee and a bit of lazing about, followed by an afternoon bike ride, with or without rods. 

Its a great way for checking out new waters and enables you to add to your knowledge of the area. I've stumbled across loads of spots over the years doing this.

Normally there's a bait bucket in the rear basket, so we can pre bait any swims we fancy.

I can never be arsed to move the van, so the bikes are used to stock up on provisions in the nearest town too.

Then it's a meal at the van before the evening session. The day ends with a drink or two and more eating. And lots of talking bollocks.

Repeat the next day and for as long as possible. 

All Together Now

Bully had seen that the best results came in the early morning, so the next morning saw both of us on the bank at dawn.

The pre bait seemed to have done it's job, as my swim seemed full of rolling fish. After half hour or so the rod went round and as I pulled in to the fish it became apparent that it was too heavy for a tench. Not fighting hard enough for a carp, so....

Could it be a grass carp ? As it surfaced there was no doubt and after a brief tussle my first ever "wild" grass carp was on the bank.

I left it in the net and text Bully, but before I could press "Send"  a message from him popped up on the phone.

"Just had a grassie"

Weird, we'd both had one at the same time and similar size, mine going 14lb and Bully's estimated at 15 plus. Fantastic. 

Job done.