Pioneering

We've just been for a trip way upriver for bass and roker. When I say upriver I mean upriver, I was expecting to find Colonel Kurtz holed up along the banks of the Colne.

The spot is a place where years ago as kids we caught huge amounts of eels and flounders at this time of year.

You rarely see either at this spot now but it is a good place for bass. Usually.

The deal was I'd dig the lug and supply the squid-herring and Cocksy would drive.

After sweating my gonads off digging bait he said he wasn't picking me up as the venue would add ten minutes to his journey. Poor show eh ?

Anyway, we got there a bit late, joined by a non fishing mate who had the first bite. With the rod on the way into the briney he pulled into and landed a nice skate of 6 or 7lb.

Cocksy's turn next with a litlun, then I had one half decent one.

Made a change fishing for them with 9 foot spinning rods and braid 😆

No bass though...

Absolutely no pull in the tide.

Beautiful calm evening with a nightingale singing non stop behind us and munty's calling on the distance. 

We had several more skate and good old whiting before heading home, with Cocksy having a small schoolie.

Are eels and flounders in the old days better than skate and bass we have now ? No, give me skate and bass any day.

Cocksy continued into the night when I think he had a few more before being jumped and abused by the bogie man on his long walk back.

A beautiful evening to be out.

Wunderbar

I was on the mudflats digging for worms "early doors". Cocksy needed some ragworm for his upcoming match, so being a fine fellow I helped him out. Obviously I dug some for myself too.

I watched scores, maybe hundreds, of sand martens nesting in the soft, eroding sand cliffs, chirping and twittering as they did so. In the distance I heard a nightingale calling in the thick blackthorn, now in full blossom.

After digging, I headed to Harwich. Much maligned, poor old Harwich. Well, I like it. Old Harwich, around the pier area, has several really good pubs and some excellent restaurants and loads of history.

More than that, Jack's Snax, a mobile breakfast van on the front does a fanfeckintastic monster French stick with whatever you want. And what I wanted was two eggs, two bacon, two sausage, loads of fried onions and brown sauce. Mmm.

I had my light eight food spinning rod, small hooks baited with scraps of rag and lug. Plenty of unwanted dogfish, whiting and dabs but no mini species, which is what I wanted, so I moved to some steps by the posts and pilings. Loads of cover.

I dropped the bait straight down and maybe ten minutes later had an aggressive take which turned out to be a pollack. A very rare catch round these parts and the first I've ever caught locally. Lovely.

Next cast the rod whacked round and was heading seawards until I trapped it with a desperate boot on the rod butt. Turned out to be a keeper sized bass. That'll do nicely.

Next cast a crashing bite which I somehow missed. Then an eel. Then a pout. Then a whiting. Seven species in all and a nice, pleasant unspectacular day.

Wunderbar. 

(Not) Working It Out

More canal fishing.

Yes, I caught some fish. Some decent ones. Had some poor sessions too. At no time did I have any idea what was going on.

You'd catch a few fish, then nothing. Move, another couple. Stay on, build up the swim. Nope, didn't really work.

I ended up pre baiting a couple of swims one evening. The next morning one produced quite well and the other was dead. 

Had some rudd and perch well over a pound, some decent silver bream, lots of skimmers and roach and "we" also had a ruffe ! Decent one too.

In football terms it was a draw, "We're happy with a point Brian".

Thoughts and Reflections

I've just finished working three days a week in north London. I started in late November and it got some cash in over the boring winter months. I was lucky, I made a phone call and started the next day, no contracts, work as much or as little as I like.

It wasn't glamorous. Early starts, long days at the hairy arsed end of the industry. But I got something out of it. I don't mean only money.

I didn't "enjoy" it but at the end of the day I was glad I'd done it, although I was pleased the day had finished. Bit of cut and thrust sales type stuff, banter and a go on a modern fork lift type thing.

It's a funny old business. I spent twenty eight years at the same company. Good times, bad times, poor pay, excellent pay, but often felt like an imposter. What was I, a bloke that couldn't wire a plug, doing in a job as a "Technical Sales Engineer" ?

I was good at the sales, shite at the technical bit.

I stayed there that long because, I suppose, I never believed anyone would pay me to do anything else. Sounds pathetic, but I think that's what happens when you stay in the same place too long.

Anyway, on the day of my 50 th birthday I handed my notice in. No job to go to. I gave up a job that paid over three times as much as I earn now. I was not stressed, just bored.

In the seven plus years since, I've been self employed and done bits and pieces in sales for some old mates, gardening, some house viewings ( I can't bring myself to say estate agency ), taught English to refugees, picked up and driven cars and had a few days labouring.

Something always turns up if you don't mind a bit of hustling. Yeaaahhh boiiiii.

Best thing is that you paddle your own canoe. Nobody allowing you "annual leave" ( sorry Waaaaak) or telling you what to do.

Drawback is not so much money. Not if you spend lots of time not working like me.

Its April now, the camper is packed with food, tackle and bait. Next week on the canal again, then at the end of the month a trip in the south west somewhere. A big European trip being planned too. Who knows, stuff happens, plans change.

No proper work until November hopefully.