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.

Greed

Yes, that's me. Greedy for everything I like. I was keen to get back to the canal but the forecast, following a week of very warm weather, was not good.

Anyone sensible would leave it for another time but not me. Bollocks, I'm going.

First day to be fair ( Brian ) was very nice. Had some nice big rudd again, one good silver bream and several skimmers 1-2lb ( or is that classed as a bream in these parts ?), plus perch and roach.

Had a go for the zander in the evening and after missing a few runs I snared a litlun. I'm sure the missed runs were from fish of similar size.

Hungry boy Chris from Stansted joined me the next day, turning up with a ludicrous amount of gear. He had a sort of wheelbarrow type affair the matchman use when they transport their four bedroomed platforms to their woodchip covered swims in search of something called an "F1". Bred to keep small, is that right ? Apparently they catch so many they bring two or three keepnets.

Less is more. Honestly. 

Anyway, Hungry Boy thought the  wheelbarrow thingy was great until he had a puncture on the way back. He moved very much slower with one flat. Especially up the steps. Oh well, he should have bought a rucksack.

We really struggled. The temperature was probably down 8-10 degrees on the day before. It was a bit grim.

We had a big rudd each, skimmers, small perch and roach but it really was slow. Oh well, can't win 'em all.

After Chris had left, I cooked a huge pasta dish, washed down with a very nice Cotes De Rhone, consumed whilst listening to some damn fine music on Marc Riley's show on 6Music. If that's classed as a poor day I'm a lucky man.

Good Times, Bad Times

The first road trip of the year, down to the canal, a three hour chug in the camper. BBC weather on Monday told me it was sunny all week, by Tuesday they said that, actually Wednesday it was going to pee down. All day. They were right on that score.

I arrived early afternoon and waited for it to stop. It didn't. Never mind, I'd wait until Thursday.

Walking to the swim my pre made up rod got caught in a tree, a gentle nudge and it was free. Half a mile later I arrived at the swim and found it'd snapped off, my favourite bobber float too ! I walked back to find it.

No sign of it, walked back to swim only to find it on the ground. How it got there I don't know.

Never mind. Relaaaaax.

I started to set up my impulse-purchase-but-not-very-good-pole. Oh dear, I appear to have left the top section in the van

And so it continued. No zander, just a handful of roach and rudd. It was dry and I was fishing but to put it mildly, I've had better days.

Second day I awoke to bright sunshine. An absolutely gorgeous day. The Turdster was joining me for the day and we set off for a couple of swims close to the campsite.

I picked a swim on the basis that I could sit comfortably on the sun. Yes, watercraft in action.

The pole was set up reasonably professionally, I even had a pole winder and a proper pole float. I'm da man ya know ? 

First drop in and the float buried and a cracking rudd around the pound mark was in the net. Great start.

After that, amazingly I had a fish a chuck for and hour and a half until we packed up for lunch.

A dozen big rudd to 1lb 10oz, eight bream 1-2lb and several silver bream. As you can see from the photos the fish were in absolutely immaculate condition. I was well chuffed.

Oh yes, and Turdy caught a decent rudd on a rubber shad too.

The afternoon session wasn't quite as good but let's not be too greedy. A few good rudd, roach and silver bream. And still no zander.

A glorious day in the sun, as you can see from my Fergie like port drinkers face.

I'm looking forward to getting back there in April.

Last Hurrah

The last day of the season arrived and I set out on a glorious spring day to a fast flowing stream in search of minnows, broon troot and peace. I got them all in spades.

The stream is set in beautiful woodland and today the resident wildlife seemed to be enjoying it as much as me. Buzzards, a kingfisher, loads of song birds and the first summer migrant, the chiffchaff. Or chiffchaffs, there were lots of them.

Little nine foot rod and a bobber float, drifting with the flow downstream, unhindered, amazingly, by any wind for a change.

Five or ten minutes a swim then a move, my type of fishing being a rather ( extremely ) impatient type. I had plenty of brownies, roach and some big minnows , then I hooked a tiny fish an inch long. A three spined stickleback ! Wahoooooo, I wanted one of them.

Sitting in the sun, just the birdsong, nobody about, I got the I-wouldn't-want-to-be-anyone-else-or-be-anywhere-else-in-the-world feeling. You know the one ?

A break to see the olds at lunch and then down for a last gasp session on the Stour. Ooooh, it looked perfect. But the Stour is a temperamental bastard of a lovely river and until the light really had gone I remained biteless.

 

Dusk worked it's magic and fish started topping. Yes, topping. Rattly bites on the spinning rod. Not an ideal tool but it's what I had. Holding the rod and touch legering I wangled out  two very decent roach and a chub.

A great way to end the season. A day of prep and then a short three day road trip in the camper. Fishing of course. Can't wait. The fire that never goes out